#“How did I make the most colorful guy all browns and greys????”

[sunfloo-wers]

Day 5!!!! Overstimulation!

Four, buddy, you got the eyeball overstimulation today, go get a nice cup of tea and a blanket away from people, please.

(I think I’ve been cursed by the Whumptober gods cause I was feeling incredibly overstimulated today and had to cancel plans and everything over it. Really hope this doesn’t keep up cause most of the things on this list I would probably not survive sooooo)

Very happy with this one, I think it’s appropriately creepy without showcasing the exact thing going on! Eyeball creepiness my absolute beloved!

[burningcheese-merchant]

TEHY'RE SO CUTEEEEE!!! I JUST FINISHED DRAWING THEM IN MY STYLE!!! SHOULD I POST IT??!

You drew fanart of my blorbos? 😭😭😭 You shouldn't have 😭😭😭 Yes please, I'd love to see how they look in your style, I bet they look great!!! Better than mine, probably lol!

If you haven't colored them in yet, may I offer some help with that? I gave them specific color schemes (and used a color generator to help visualize them lol. That's kind of stupid, I know, but it helped me a lot personally)

Here's Pepper Jack's:

There are supposed to be little bits of red and orange in his hair as a reference to how pepper jack cheese actually looks. He's brown like Golden Cheese is, but lighter. He's got red eyes like Burning Spice does, too (no slit pupils though, just normal eyes)

I labeled these all as "wings" because I have, like... a sort of gradient in mind, you know? They're mostly blue with a bit of grey/silver mixed in, that gradually lightens to white. (Again, this is for an honest reason. I know it's weird, but I didn't make them blue just because, I swear.) Also, that blue on the far right - you know how Golden has those little triangles on the tips of her wings? I thought of Jack having those, too. Little bright blue triangles that stand out against the white. Idk if that would actually look good, but that's an idea I had... He might look better without them tbh lol. (Also, the skirt is blue, too. Blue with white trim and a black belt. And the bracelet, anklet and sandals are gold)

Here's Matar Paneer's:

I wanted her to be orange because matar paneer (the actual dish) is orange. The eyes are a nod to her mom and to the "cheese" part of the food she takes after ("paneer" is the name of the cheese used in it, it's a type of goat cheese that's a lighter yellow). She pretty much stole Burning Spice's hair, color and texture and everything lol. I'm still debating how to color the dress tbh... idk whether to do a red blouse and a yellow skirt or vice versa. (Also, spoiler, Paneer gets tattoos when she's older lol. Some of them are just like Spice's, some are entirely original (won't spoil those just yet))

Didn't want too much green anywhere, just the trim honestly. Like the hem of her skirt or... certain stitches or something. "Matar" refers to green peas, so I figured she ought to have at least some amount of green in her look. (Plus she has little green earrings that look like green peas!) Again, still not sure about the dress. Her primary color is red (both because of Spice and for another reason), so I want red to be the most prominent thing. Been leaning towards yellow blouse w/ red sleeves + red skirt, but idk. You're welcome to experiment lol. Nvm that one color there, idk what to do with it anymore. Maybe it would be better for the tattoos? Maybe it would contrast against her skin better? The fuck kind of name is "chocolate cosmos" lmao

Also, I wanted there to be some sort of design or pattern on her skirt. Pattu pavadai often has that (look it up, they're all very cute. Indian women's fashion is so cool honestly). I was thinking, like... little cheesebirds or lotus flowers or something. Or hieroglyphs. One of those. (Also, she has gold bracelets on both wrists. I didn't draw them because I didn't think they'd be seen properly with the way she's holding the katar)

Sorry for rambling, I did warn you all that I would talk about these little guys forever lol. I'm extremely flattered that you wanted to draw them, I can't wait to see what you did with them ❤️

[ye-it-is-skeet]

I found some poses on Pinterest and you can guess what happened✨ Also taking this time to show the full-body full-designs of the teetlez+Usagi✨ And to talk about the designs and choices that were made. Also behind them is basically the shapes I imagined as I drew them all

<Info-Dumping Zone>

Leo- The most I can say about his design is like.. He wears wrappings either to have support for his wrists or just because. I have sketches of all their masks from behind but Leo's is based on, when I looked up traditional ninja designs, and saw a ninja with a warrior man-bun type deal so ye✨

Raph- His rough and "spiky" look is more just to show his aggressive demeanor most of the time. At first I just added the armor because I saw some ninja outfits where they wore armor (mostly on their shins and forearms), but after drawing this I realized it can be good for ramming into people and having that protection. Also the instant I finished designing him I knew I wanted him to be DARK, and I am OBSESSED with how dark he is✨ Also the short mask tails are because I see so many ppl giving Rise Raph specifically his tails tied to a bow so ye. Also it wasn't just a pentagon, it's more that I just thought about polygons.

Donnie- I actually designed Donnie first, because he's my favorite, heheh✨ His design is simple, I wanna talk more about his Bo-Staff. As I drew this I just made this area that stuck out from the staff where the wrap is, and it reminded me of those pencil grips. So now it's that Donnie doesn't like holding the rough staff for too long and has that little area to give his hands a break as he continues to fight. The armor on his shins I do not yet have an explanation for. Maybe it's so his kicks can hurt more.

Mikey- Again, simple design. When I designed him I wanted him to look round and a lil chubby maybe~✨ Quick tip: if he doesn't look baby then you drew him wrong.

Usagi- For the most part I just did my own thing, the outfit design, more specifically how the blue cloth bits are designed, were entirely based on how @okumura-senseixxx draws Usagi (love how they did it✨, obviously). Using that design because I wanted Usagi to look pretty, and that design of clothing is very pretty✨ Other than that it's a matter of just flipping Usagi's hair because trust me it doesn't look good any other way. I didn't think heart when designing Usagi, but when I think of Usagi I think "heart" so ye.

Teetlez- I am thinking of doing one of those "art study" sheets for my teetlez and characters if you guys ever want, I'll just do a mini worded version for now since I'll be working on something else. Overall their bodies are based on the first concept designs of my "Turtlier" Teetlez which was the Rise Boys just.. "Turtlier". Those designs changed but I loved the body type and used it here✨ The beaks are personally a must✨ I find it more interesting to draw beaks than normal mouths for the teetlez✨ The tails are also just a personal must, I just like them✨ Took a while to figure how I'd draw the individual pieces of their outfits, I thought doing brown or grey (ew) but both matched Raph's red in greyscale so it would never work. Then I looked back at my sketched design of Donnie and noticed to differentiate the pieces of clothing I had shaded his arm and leg bits. ✨Lightbulb✨ Just make the other pieces darker variations of the main color✨

I have a lot of information that I'm still trying to hash out, so ye✨

References (if it's important at all, from Pinterest except the nunchaku one, google):

[barclaysangel]

Death by her Side

And here it is! My fully sapphic vampire x death story! Wow…in complete disbelief that this random idea I had came out to a short story that’s close to 10K words. Insane af. But I’m proud of myself and the motivation I received along the way, it meant the world to me! I do have ideas for a spinoff story involving witches, over a decade after this story, but that requires making even MORE characters and I don’t think I have it in me. So for now, no story. I may jump into some Chucky fanfiction and/or continue my sapphic human x mermaid/siren story before I start my new semester of grad school next month. Anyway, I hope you guys like this and PLEASE leave comments if you do, it motivates me to post more of my stories if you do so!

Thank you and enjoy :)

Tags: @streets-in-paradise @cult-of-dollbabies @morganandtheemorgana @fairchilds-glasses

Word count: 9.2K

Magdalena Iglesias was 24 years old when she was turned against her will. 

A wicked and monstrous man named Nathaniel Murrow had been enraptured by her beauty and wanted her for his bride, his mate for eternity. 

He followed her down the alleyway, a shortcut to her home, and pinned her to the cobblestone ground with his body while his fangs punctured the soft flesh of her neck. 

Magdalena had tried screaming, but to no avail, no one would hear her. No one would care. 

She was no one. 

As her consciousness began to slip away, Magdalena saw someone. 

A woman standing some distance away, watching intently. She wore a long black dress and corset wrapped tightly around her frame, a black hood almost hiding her face but her piercing blue eyes were noticeable.��

But Magdalena could not focus on her for long because the moment Nathaniel cut open his own wrist with his teeth, feeding her his own blood, the image of the woman slipped away. 

She was gone as quickly as she came and her body turned cold. 

It was clear that Magdalena was part of the undead now, the ones that feasted on blood. And she despised Nathaniel for turning her into the demon children fear at night. She had tried to kill him but was too weak to do so, something he enjoyed mentioning one too many times. 

Instead, she had to kill others. To drink their blood just as he had with hers. 

She would be lying if she said that the taste of blood was not the most delicious thing she ever tasted. Filled her with delight and the warmth she had been missing since her turning. 

But there was also something else. 

Each time Magdalena fed on her new victim, she would see the woman in black. Watching with that same intent yet neutral look. And the more she saw the woman, the more Magdalena realized little details about her. 

Her skin was pale, so pale she was almost grey. 

Her curls were long and a soft brown color, almost looking like there were streaks of copper in them. 

And in one hand, there was a scythe. 

Magdalena always wondered about who the woman was. Perhaps she was a figment of her imagination? She must be. No one else has seen her, even Nathaniel has not. He just found her ‘delusions’ to be amusing. 

Perhaps she was delusional. Perhaps he took her sanity along with her soul. But she did not care. None of it mattered. 

She had already lost everything. 

Her family. 

Her heart. 

Her life. 

At the very least, Magdalena just wanted to hang onto the woman in black in her imagination. 

That was all she wanted. 

And for decades, Magdalena built her strength. She agreed to be Nathaniel’s bride, and let him take her as he wanted every night. Let him think that she loved him when in reality, her mind wandered elsewhere. 

Her mind was focused solely on revenge. 

Until finally, one night, she got him where she wanted him. 

Magdalena was 62 years old when she straddled his hips, her mouth on his and her hand on a wooden stake that she kept hidden. 

Then she made sure that her stake met his heart, just like how his fangs met her throat all those years ago. 

Blood spurted as he screeched like an unholy demon, his body convulsing until he was nothing more than blood and other bodily matter all over their once shared bed. Magdalena was out of breath but so full of glee. She was covered head to toe in his blood, even licking parts of him off her hands and the wooden stake. 

Then, she felt something. A cold yet warm presence, something she felt before, making her slowly turn her head. 

The woman in black was there in the corner of the room, scythe in hand, her hood down this time, but there was a different look in her bright blue eyes. 

A look of pride. 

It made Magdalena’s insides flutter. 

“Are you God?” She asked, trying to find her words. 

The woman now looked amused, shaking her head. “I am not.” 

“The devil then?” Magdalena asked instead. 

She smiled just slightly. “No.” The woman in black said simply before stepping toward Magdalena, unfazed by the blood that coated her body. Instead, she took the bloodied stake from her hand, tossing it to the side. 

The woman’s blue eyes met her maroon ones, and then she spoke her next words clearly and strongly. “I am Death.” 

Death. 

The word that would strike fear in Magdalena as a child. A word that still did. 

But it was different now. She had taken lives. She had killed. 

And now Death was standing before her, just after she slaughtered her maker. 

Who knew Death could look like an angel. 

“Have you come to take me?” Magdalena asked but she was not afraid. If Death was here for her, to finally pay for her sins, then she would allow it. 

Death smiled gently and shook her head. “No. I have already taken a part of you. Your mortal soul.” 

Magdalena tilted her head just slightly. “I remember you. I saw you, when I was…” 

Death nodded, a sympathetic look in her eyes. “Yes. But I could not intervene. I cannot. I am only here to guide those who have passed or to ensure they go where they are supposed to. Nathaniel will not harm you ever again.” 

She swallowed thickly, trying to push down the tears that threatened to come out, tears of blood and pure relief as she let out a long breath. 

Free. 

She was finally free. 

After a moment, Magdalena asked her next question. “If you are not here for me…then why can I see you before me?” 

“I do not know,” Death answered truthfully, “many cannot. Even creatures of the night, such as yourself. No one can see me unless I allow them to. But I have never allowed you to see me. You are…a conundrum.” 

Magdalena did not know why that sparked something in her. She was a mystery, a paradox, a conundrum. 

How incredibly lovely. 

Death stared at her some more, her eyes staring so intently before she took a step back. “I must go. More spirits to guide and collect. Quite laborious work.” 

“Will I see you again?” Magdalena asked without thinking twice. 

For a moment, she feared that she had been far too desperate, but Death only smiled. “You need blood and I need souls. We will meet again.” 

Magdalena smiled watching Death turn away before she suddenly rose to her feet. “Wait! I…I am Magdalena. Magdalena Iglesias.” 

She didn’t know exactly why she felt the need to introduce herself to Death herself, but the woman in black merely turned back around and smiled sweetly at her. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Magdalena…” she paused for a moment before speaking again, “You may call me Thanathea.” 

Thanathea. 

Oh, the name that sounded so holy, so beautiful, as if it would haunt Magdalena for the rest of her days and she would allow it without another thought. 

Thanathea. 

And without another word, Thanathea was gone. Leaving Magdalena all alone. 

She could not wait to see her again. 

The next night when Magdalena was on the hunt, this time her victim was a mortal man that resembled Nathaniel in his unrelenting perversion, she again saw Thanathea. 

For so long, she would be forced to hunt young girls, girls that reminded her of herself. But now, Magdalena swore to herself that she would only go after those who resembled her maker in mortal form. 

His blood and screams were much more delicious compared to her other meals. 

And just like before, Magdalena saw her. Her fangs were on the center of his throat, some blood spraying her face as she kept him pinned below her body. But none of that mattered. All that mattered was seeing Thanathea there, watching her with that same look of pride, her blue eyes sparkling. 

When the man was finally drained, Magdalena pulled away, her face and even her chest covered in blood. But Thanathea did not look afraid. Well, she was Death after all. Perhaps she had seen much worse. 

“You came.” Magdalena said softly, smiling at her. 

“You took a life. So I came.” Thanathea replied simply, scythe in her hand and she drew it near the man’s corpse. The blade glowed a bright shade of gold until it faded away. 

“What was that?” Magdalena asked in curiosity, tilting her head to the side. 

“I collected his soul. I will take him to where he belongs soon enough.” Thanathea told her as Magdalena stood up to face her. 

It still surprised her to know that she was standing this close to Death. Death, in all her glory, was even taller than her, and there was a certain coldness yet warmth surrounding her. 

How peculiar. 

“Is there a heaven? And hell?” Magdalena asked. It seemed as if she had a million questions whenever she saw Thanathea. 

She simply shrugged her shoulders. “There is all and none. It varies on one’s belief. But I am very real, I can say that. Death comes for everyone.” 

“Will you come for me again?” 

The silence was quite loud before Thanathea finally replied. “I cannot answer that. No one knows when or if their time will come. I shall not answer.”

It made Magdalena frown just slightly. There was a part of her that wished for Thanathea to take her. She missed her family, her life, the future she could have had. All of it was gone without a second thought. 

Now here she was, a monster that feasted on blood every single night and had to hide from the sun unless she would burn to a crisp. 

Suddenly, Thanathea took a step closer and wiped some of the blood off Magdalena’s cheeks with both of her thumbs, her eyes looking gentle and sympathetic. “Immortality can be a blessing and a curse. Enjoy the blessing. Live your life. It is what matters. Do not allow yourself to be held back. You are free. What will you do with your freedom?” 

What will you do with your freedom? 

Magdalena wished she had the answer. 

“I do not know.” She finally answered, looking down. “I have not had freedom in so long. I have lost my family. I cannot go back to them, not like this. I have no friends nor allies. I am simply…alone.” 

Thanathea did not say anything for a moment. She watched Magdalena silently, an unreadable expression on her face, before she finally smiled. “You are not alone now. For I will be your friend.” 

Those words brought comfort to Magdalena, comfort she had not felt in decades. 

She did not know how long Thanathea would be her friend but she knew that she would treasure her kindness and friendship until her immortal form had finally passed. 

Magdalena was 73 years old when she wished to have a child. 

She had wanted to be a mother for a very long time, ever since she was a child herself. But that dream of hers was stolen away by that monster, leaving her unable to ever conceive. 

“Did you ever want to have a child?” Magdalena asked Thanathea suddenly one day, the both of them sitting near one another on a bench, the moon illuminating the dark streets just as a woman walked by, holding an infant in her arms. 

“I do not know,” Thanathea replied after a moment of consideration, “I have been quite busy. I have helped young ones pass on, holding their hand as they crossed over. I never thought of becoming a mother all that much.” 

Magdalena nodded in understanding. She was sure that it must have been different for Thanathea, being Death, an entity as old as time itself. Surely, she would not have the time to want to have a child. 

“You wished to become a mother?” Thanathea asked her, almost rhetorically. 

“I always have.” Magdalena responded without hesitating. “I wanted to have many children. It was the only reason I wished for a viable suitor.”

“You desired to be married?” 

“Yes. I wanted to be married. I would only need a husband for the sole purpose of procreation. That is the only importance to me of a man.” Magdalena told her calmly. 

Thanathea chuckled under her breath, an amused look glistening in her vibrant blue eyes. “Men bring more issues than what they are worth. Perhaps one day they will not be needed.”

“I could not agree more,” Magdalena answered before smirking, “until then, I shall drink the blood of men and decrease their population. And help your business as well, of course.”

Death herself smirked as well and rested her cool hand over Magdalena’s, making her blood feel as if it was rushing throughout her body. “Thank you, my night.” 

Magdalena was 81 years old when Thanathea gave her a cottage in the woods. 

Ever since she killed Nathaniel, she had been staying at his mansion. She never enjoyed it, but she could not go to the streets. The sunlight alone would kill her. Nor did Magdalena wish to break into the houses of mortals, killing families just to have some shelter. 

The mansion would have to do, even if it was hard for her to remember all that she has been through because of that monster. 

“Your mind wanders, my creature of the night.” Thanathea said suddenly one night, sprawled against one of the seats in a lazing manner with her scythe lying on the floor beside her. “What ails you?”

Magdalena’s pose was rigid with her back pressed against the wall, a glass of fresh blood in her hand in almost a tight grasp. She forced a smile at Death herself, shaking her head just slightly. “My apologies, muerte. Sometimes my mind goes back to the past. I cannot control it. I feel as if I am still stuck with that man. This place haunts all of my memories.” 

Thanathea smiled sadly yet gently before sitting up some more, raising one hand toward the blood drinker. “Come. Sit by me.”

Like a moth drawn to fire, Magdalena moved towards Thanathea wordlessly and without another thought, sitting beside her. “Drink up. I would like to show you something.” Death told her, even tapping the center of her throat before Magdalena drank the blood from her glass.

Perhaps she was wrapped so tightly around Death’s finger. 

They walked for a while, going deeper and deeper into the woods. Magdalena knew she could get to the destination in seconds by running and even that Thanathea herself could teleport them both there. But it seemed as if Thanathea would rather enjoy the detour the longer way.

Magdalena would not complain. She enjoyed the adventure after spending much of her afterlife under lock and key. 

“If I did not know any better, I would assume that you are luring me to my death.” 

“You have already died, Magdalena.” Thanathea replied swiftly, sounding just a little amused. 

“I could die again.” Magdalena jumped in with a playful smile. “You could put a stake through my heart. Or perhaps tie me to a tree and wait until the sun rises. Maybe even cut me into little bits with your scythe.” 

Thanathea raised an eyebrow at her. “You think that I could kill you?” She asked and moved her scythe closer to Magdalena’s arm, the sharp blade just grazing against her bare skin. 

It made the creature of the night shiver in anticipation. 

“I hope not.” Magdalena responded after a moment, her maroon eyes staring deeply into Death’s eyes. 

Thanathea smiled, chuckling quietly before removing her scythe. “I will not harm you. I swear upon it. You are safe with me. Besides, you are my friend. What kind of friend would I be if I intended to wish you ill will?” 

“Not a very good friend, of course.” Magdalena said and giggled under her breath, staring up at her. “Do not worry. I merely jest. I trust you, madam death.” 

“Good,” Death told her with a smile before taking her hand, “follow me, we are near to my surprise.” 

Magdalena walked right beside Thanathea, still spending the next few moments curious about what possible surprise Death had in store for her before she saw it. 

It was a small but precious looking cottage deep into the woods, far from civilization. There was a warm feeling to it but she could sense its emptiness. The cottage held no owner. 

“It is lovely,” Magdalena told her with a soft smile, turning her head to look at Death, “but why have you shown it to me?” 

“Because it is yours now.” Thanathea said suddenly. 

The creature of the night paused momentarily. “What do you mean?”

“The cottage is yours. Away from the mansion, away from your pain and suffering. There is a coffin inside for you as well. It is small but I…I do hope you like it.”

There was a hesitancy in Thanathea’s voice, something Magdalena had never heard before. The cosmic being seemed as if she was nervous. Even as she looked at Thanathea, Magdalena could see a certain bashfulness surrounding her facial expression, her body language, like she was concerned that the bloodsucker would not want the cottage. 

It was truly sweet to see Thanathea like this, realizing that Magdalena might have an affect on her as much as Thanathea has an affect on her. 

Magdalena’s grip around Death’s hand tightened slightly, a genuine and true smile gracing her face. “You are too kind, Thanathea. Thank you. How can I ever repay you?”

Thanathea smiled happily back at her, her shoulders relaxing and her thumb began rubbing against Magdalena’s knuckles. “Your friendship is all I desire, Magdalena. That is all I can ask from you for the time being.” 

And for the creature of the night, that was all she wanted as well. 

Magdalena was 95 years old when she realized that the feelings she had for Thanathea was much more than friendship. 

They had been by each other’s side for three decades, easing Magdalena’s loneliness and filling her with joy. She had forgotten what it felt like to have a friend after nearly forty years of isolation and was cherishing every moment with Thanathea. 

But something began to change although she did not know exactly when it started. 

Magdalena did not know when she began feeling the urge to run her fingers through Thanathea’s curls. 

Magdalena did not know when she began feeling like she was drowning in Thanathea’s blue eyes but enjoying every moment of it. 

Magdalena did not know when she began to crave Thanathea’s touch, how she would beg inside her mind for Death to touch her hand once more. 

Magdalena did not know when she began to find herself lost as she stared at Thanathea’s lips, wondering if they would be soft or harsh, cold or warm, against her own. 

All Magdalena knew was that something about Thanathea made her feel completely alive and human again and she didn’t want to give that feeling up. 

Magdalena tried her hardest to remember if she has felt this way before, for any of the boys in her village. But the more she thought of it, the more she realized that she only felt this way for one of her friends, a young girl who was bright and lovely. She married young and Magdalena remembered feeling heartbroken in a way that she could not describe nor could she tell anyone about it. 

But now the feeling was back at full force, stronger than ever. And despite all her years and wisdom, Magdalena did not know how to navigate and shift her feelings to turn a different route. 

“Have you ever been in love?” Magdalena asked one day, a thought that simply bursted past her lips, as they walked beside one another along the streets. Thanathea had made herself visible to the mortal eye, her scythe tucked away from anyone’s view. 

Thanathea had not said anything for a moment, seeming like she was thinking the question over before responding. “I have not. Even though I am a cosmic entity, other entities try to…stay away from me. With my job, of course. Death is a frightening thing.”

“I am not afraid.” Magdalena told her without another thought, looking away briefly before looking back at her. “I have walked beside Death. I have experienced death. I partake in death every day of immortal life. I do not fear you, Thanathea. I never will.” 

Thanathea looked at her, wearing an unreadable expression before her eyes glistened and she rested her hand on Magdalena’s shoulder. “You are very kind. A wonderful creature of the night. I am grateful for your friendship.”

Friendship. Of course. Friendship. Thanathea is an all powerful omnipotent being. She could never feel anything more than friendship for a bloodsucker like her. 

It stung, it hurt. But Magdalena still smiled. She would keep her thoughts to herself and value her friendship with Death herself. 

The last thing she wanted was to ruin everything and lose her only friend. 

Magdalena was 108 years old when she experienced the kiss of death. 

She had kept her big secret to herself for over a decade, hiding it so well that she strongly believed that she fooled Death herself. She had to, it was the only choice she had as to not destroy their friendship, even when it teetered on something more, something deeper. 

But it was okay. Everything was just fine, Magdalena had everything under control. 

“Shhhh, hush now…” Magdalena found herself whispering to the man squirming in her arms, trying to escape and failing each time, with her hand clasped tightly over his mouth to suppress his screams, “My beloved awaits…” she told him before sinking her fangs into his neck. 

No matter how many times she fed from mortals, she would never get over the rush she got the moment their blood was down her throat. It was delicious and something she craved more of, she would drink and drink until the body was finally empty, filling her body with momentary warmth and pleasure, as if the blood was an aphrodisiac. 

Perhaps it was. But Magdalena enjoyed it each and every time. 

“Your beloved?” The blood drinker heard an all too familiar voice behind her, turning to look at Thanathea quickly and then dropped the corpse as she stood up. 

“You finally came. I was beginning to wonder if I would have to kill another just to get your attention.” Magdalena told her with a shy chuckle, licking some of the blood off her lips. 

“My apologies, my night, I was preoccupied with other souls. But I am here now, as always,” Thanathea told her with a smile, waving her scythe over the body and just like always, it glowed a beautiful shade of gold, “you did call me your beloved, did you not?”

Magdalena could feel her cheeks flushing from the newfound blood in her body, chuckling under her breath and looking down at the ground momentarily. “I…I did. Yes. You are my beloved friend, after all.” She told Death, smiling as well and hoped, prayed even, that Thanathea would believe her. 

She truly did not want to lose everything and be left alone all over again. 

“How sweet. Like an angel of death.” Thanathea told her with a smile. 

Magdalena sighed quietly in relief. “Are there angels of death?” She asked curiously. 

“Oh, yes. Quite a few. Although they mostly appear for young ones whose time has come. They provide them comfort in their last few moments.”

“I would die again before I ever harmed a child.” Magdalena pointed out. 

“I know you would,” Thanathea replied, still smiling at her, “it is very admirable, your dedication to the little ones. Very sweet as well. My beloved.” 

It should not, it really should not, but those two words made the blood swirl inside of Magdalena, making her crave even more for Thanathea to call her that over and over and over again until she finally took her immortal soul to the Underworld. 

“No one has ever called me their beloved before.” Magdalena told her, almost shyly, almost bashfully. 

“They were fools,” Thanathea told her as she took a step closer to her, “no one has called me their beloved either. Only you, my night. Only you.” 

Those blue eyes, those beautiful bright blue eyes, were staring so deeply into Magdalena’s maroon eyes. Like she was trying to read everything about her, read her soul. She would let her, of course. She would let Thanathea do whatever she would like. 

Because even if Death might not know it, Magdalena’s heart belonged to hers and would be for the rest of her immortal life. 

“Lena? May I ask you something?” Thanathea asked suddenly, making the creature of the night a little surprised before nodding while the nickname made her feel all flushed. 

“Of course you can, Thea.” She replied, using a nickname for her as well. 

“Do you know what it is like to fall in love?”

Of all the questions that she could have asked, that was not a question Magdalena expected. 

There were a million things that she wanted to scream, to let Thanathea know exactly how it feels like. But she had to be discreet, cautious. 

She couldn’t let Death know the truth. 

“I am unsure. I…I feel very strong feelings. Where the person is all you can think of. Where you wake up every night, wishing to see them. Wanting to see them happy. To see them smile. To have them touch you. To spend time with them. You want nothing but the best for them and you’ll push everything aside just to keep them with you and not shatter everything. I…it is just a nice feeling, I believe.” 

I have said too much, have I not? Magdalena thought to herself, no longer looking at Thanathea. She should have just said no, should have just kept her mouth shut. She should have never said anything at all, after a century of being alive, she should have known better!

Thanathea took another step toward her and then a hand was on her shoulder before slowly moving to her chin, lifting her head up to make sure that Magdalena was looking at her. “I have only felt that way once in my lifetime. Just once. Magdalena, my beloved…I have fallen in love with you.” 

Magdalena’s breath hitched in her throat. 

Was this real? 

“Thea…I love you. I…I have for many years. I do not know if this is wrong or right. I just know that I love you. That I have craved you for so long. I want you and only you, my Lady Death. I swear it.” Magdalena told her truthfully, leaning her cheek closer to Death’s hand. 

Thanathea smiled at her, her blue eyes lighting up. For a moment, neither of them moved. Then she began moving closer to Magdalena, her movements slow, as if she was giving the blood drinker a chance to pull away, to refuse. 

But Magdalena would never do that, not to her beloved. 

Then, finally, Thanathea’s lips were on hers. 

And every part of her exploded. 

Magdalena had kissed before and felt nothing. They were simply kisses with no attachments, only brought on by force. But this was entirely different. Thanathea’s lips were intoxicating, mouthwatering. She wanted more of it and for it to never stop. 

Without another word, the blood drinker pulled Thanathea closer to her, her hands all over her body and her mind spinning. “Take me home.” Magdalena whispered breathlessly before she felt Death’s shadows all around them, taking them both to the cottage, their home, where they remained attached to each other’s bodies until the sun rose above the sky. 

Magdalena was 116 years old when she first tasted Thanathea’s blood. 

The bloodsucker, or vampire as some of the mortals began calling creatures like her, would be lying if she said that she never wanted to take a bite out of Thanathea. 

She could not help herself. She was curious after over fifty years of friendship and nearly a decade of being lovers. Magdalena never even knew if Death had blood. But she had to have had something because the vampire could smell how delicious her scent was. Similar to the smell of mortal's blood inside their body, but there was something stronger, something different that made her want to have just a taste. 

“If I did not know any better, I would think that you are about to make me your newest victim.” Thanathea said while she was polishing her scythe with a black cloth while Magdalena’s lips were on her neck, light and soft, with her fangs just barely grazing against her soft flesh. 

“Hmmm…why ever would you ask that, my heart and soul?” She asked innocently, still kissing and feeling her fangs brush against Thanathea’s neck, anticipatory, craving for a bite. 

“Because your thoughts are quite loud as well as your actions.” Death replied, an amused tone shining through in her voice. 

Magdalena giggled under her breath, her hands now trailing up and down Thanathea’s exposed arms. “Well, I do not intend on making you my next victim. I just…want to have a taste.”

“Lena, my darling, the blood of a cosmic entity could kill you.” 

“Even if it’s just a drop? Just one little taste on my tongue?” Magdalena tried to bargain, tilting her head in front of Death, batting her maroon eyes at her. 

Thanathea sighed loudly, not saying anything for a moment as she stared back at the vampire before nodding. “Just one drop. That is all. Nothing more.” 

Magdalena immediately grinned and then tried to sink her fangs into Thanathea’s neck but she pulled away just before the vampire could. “No no. Easy, my love. I will do it.” 

She was confused for a moment before Death took her scythe and pressed the sharp blade to her finger. In that very moment, Magdalena could smell the blood that emerged from her lover’s prick finger, gold instead of red. It made her mouth water at the sight and smell, wanting nothing more than to taste her blood. 

Magdalena was craving it, desiring it, wanting as many drops as she could manage. So when Thanathea brought her finger closer to the vampire’s face, Magdalena automatically opened her mouth and closed her lips around Death’s finger. 

Everything exploded in that moment. 

No amount of mortal blood could ever compare to the blood of a cosmic being, a deity, so delicious and making Magdalena crave for it, sucking the blood, swallowing the few drops, desiring for more and more of her blood. 

Then, as quickly as it came, Thanathea pulled her finger away, making the vampire whine like a child for just a moment to be withdrawn from the exquisite blood that she was tasting. “That is enough, my love. I cannot allow you to drink any more, you will burst into flames if you continue.” 

“It would be a worthy death.” Magdalena said simply, feeling almost out of breath with her mind spiraling as her mouth and body processed the immortal blood she consumed. 

“I may be Death, but I will not allow you to die because of me.” Thanathea told her, sounding amused again. 

“Perhaps just a little, my beloved? Un beso de muerte?” Magdalena asked her sweetly, taking Death’s hand and pressed a kiss to each of Thanathea’s fingers and then her palm before resting her hand on top of the vampire’s chest, Death taking control as her hand slowly began to descend. 

“Who would I be to deny love to you?” Thanathea asked rhetorically with a smirk, before her body was on Magdalana’s and her mouth on hers, throwing her into another night of pleasure. 

Magdalena was 127 years old when she learned that vampires were not the only supernatural beings walking the earth. 

A part of her truly never thought of other entities or beings there could be beside her. She spent so long stuck with that monster during her first few decades as a vampire, that the thought of other creatures lurking around did not dawn on her. And then Thanathea came around, filling her dark life with light despite being Death. It brought her comfort and security, so once again, the thought did not occur to her. 

Until one day. 

“Are werewolves real?” Magdalena asked suddenly, book in hand, with her head on Thanathea’s lap. 

Death raised an eyebrow, looking almost amused. “Why, of course they are, my night. Why would they not be?” 

“They are?!” She exclaimed in astonishment, sitting upright and turning toward her lover. “How do you know? Have you met them?” 

“In a way, I have.” Thanathea told her, “I do help guide souls over. Mortal, werewolf, and otherwise.” 

“Otherwise? Are there more? Like…mermaids? Sirens? Witches? Warlocks?” 

“Yes. Yes. Yes. And yes. Although in certain regions, mermaids and sirens are the same as one. The same for witches and warlocks, separated by genders but it is all about personal identification.” 

Magdalena’s mouth opened, looking completely surprised still. Thanathea chuckled quietly before bringing her finger under the vampire’s chin, gently pushing her jaw back up. “Lena, did you truly not know about this?” 

“No! Of course not!” She quickly said. “I thought they were myths, stories mortals come up with to keep their unfulfilling lives entertained.” 

“Well, those mortals had to have had inspiration for those stories, would they not?” Death asked her, still looking amused herself.

“I suppose you are right,” Magdalena huffed under her breath before moving closer to Thanathea, resting her head on her shoulder, “can you tell me about them, my Death?”

“About who?”

“All of them? As much as you know.” 

Thanathea smiled at her. “Hmm…it is rare for someone to turn into a werewolf. Most are born. Although if a strong enough werewolf bites or scratches a mortal, it can trigger a transformation by the next full moon. And the werewolves tend to stay within their own pack, very rare for them to become rogue or deviate toward a different pack.” 

“Fascinating…I wonder if they smell like wet dogs.” 

“Oh, be kind,” Thanathea chuckled again, “mermaids and sirens are born the way they are. Impossible to be turned, unlike vampires and werewolves. Although they can go on land and have legs, the transformation can be quite painful that not all survive. It is very unfortunate.” 

“It is,” Magdalena agreed while nodding, “and the witches and warlocks?” 

“Born so. Yet they are quite an enigma. Some witches can have mortal children while mortals can have witch children. It can be quite random and depend on their blood and strength. There are many types of witches too. Elementals, healing, divination. Some more common, some not. Spirit witches are extremely rare, they only happen once every few centuries. Although, they are quite the hassle. And do not get me started on chaos witches, they are much worse and a complete headache.” 

“How come?”

“Their magic can create a disruption into the natural order of balance within the universe. They take and give in uncontrollable manners. Makes my job very difficult to manage.” 

“Oh, you poor thing,” Magdalena told her with a little pout and reached up to begin playing with Thanathea’s curls, twirling each of them around her finger and watching them spring back up, “my beloved, do you know if it is possible for a cross between the other beings?”

“You mean hybrids?” Thanathea asked for clarification and the vampire nodded. “It is extremely rare, but yes. They do exist. Including dhampirs.”

Magdalena tilted her head to the side and raised an eyebrow in confusion. “Dhampirs? I have not heard of them, what are they?” 

“Half mortal, half immortal. Vampire, just as yourself. They can only be born from a mortal woman and a vampire man. They are immune to the sun and age as mortals do. Although, they do drink blood and become completely immortal once they reach a certain age, usually in their twenties.” 

Now, that was something Magdalena never expected. And there was something in her that felt almost saddened by it. She had accepted that she’d never have children, and even now as a vampire, she couldn’t but the vampire men could. 

Those bastards. She thought to herself. 

“How completely and utterly intriguing, Thea. Thank you for telling me.” Magdalena said with a small smile, still playing with her lover’s curls. 

“Of course.” Thanathea said, wrapping both of her arms around the vampire and pulling her almost on top of her. 

The way Death held her in her arms made the vampire realize that Thanathea knew what Magdalena was feeling, thinking. No words needed to be said between them but there was a mutual understanding between them. A mutual comfort. 

It helped her feel better and secure, knowing that Death herself was there to fill the hole in her heart and give her the security and warmth she had desired her entire life. 

Magdalena was 139 years old when she finally became a mother. 

She had accepted for many decades that she would never get to have children. It was not in the cards for her and Magdalena would never dream of turning a child into a vampire. It pained her to even think of allowing a child to endure the painful aspects of immortality, nor did it seem reasonable to take mortal children from their families and raise them as her own. 

But Magdalena did find solace in watching families at night, walking down the streets hand in hand, mothers and fathers tending to their young ones. It was quite sweet, in fact. It had her pretending for just a moment, that she could have had the same had her mortal life not been stolen away from her. 

Although, she adored Thanathea. Becoming immortal led her to find her beloved Death, she fell so deeply for her and did not want to change or lose that. 

But if she was being truthful, Magdalena would have loved to see Thea become a mother. She was always so nice and sweet, especially to children that she has watched her lover cross over. Magdalena has followed Thanathea to work and was always so interested in Death’s work, including the ways that she could calm children and reassure them so they are no longer afraid. Even Thanathea’s appearance shifts, wearing green instead of black, her scythe turned into a glowing gold bracelet instead, with color flushed to her usually very pale skin. 

It was quite the sight that beheld Magdalena, but she treasured those moments so deeply. 

But it was not something that she thought too much about, she would rather focus on spending time with her lover instead, even on times when it was clear that something was weighing on Thanathea’s mind. 

“Are you alright, my beloved? It appears that something seems to be troubling you.” Magdalena asked her one day, her head tilted slightly. 

“My apologies, Lena,” Thanathea smiled slightly at her, “I do not wish to fill your mind with worry.” 

“My mind will always be worried if I do not know how I can help you.” Magdalena reassured her gently, her hand going up to her lover’s curls and she heard her sigh softly. 

“Sometimes it is very…burdensome. My duty. Taking souls. Orphaning children, leaving them alone. It is painful at times.” Thanathea told her after a few moments of silence. 

The vampire frowned a little. “I apologize if my meals have contributed to your burden, my Thea.” 

“Oh no, it has not, I can assure you that,” Death told her fairly quickly, “the men you feed on and the souls I take are well-deserved, we have both made sure of that. There are simply others that can make things difficult for me and bring me down at times. But I will be alright. I know I will be because I always am.” 

Magdalena moved closer to her, pressing a kiss to Thanathea’s cheek while continuing to caress her curls. “I still apologize for your pain, lover of mine. Perhaps we shall take a walk? To help put your mind at ease?” She offered gently. 

Death smiled at her, more genuine this time, before taking her hand. “Yes, I would like that, my love.” 

And so they walked peacefully together, their arms looped into one another, talking amongst themselves. The streets were nearly empty, many mortals already asleep in their homes. All seemed to be going well, until Thanathea went quiet again and sighed under her breath. 

“What is wrong, my heart and soul?” Magdalena asked in concern. 

“Someone has passed. Near us. A mother. I must go take care of it.” Thanathea told her after a few seconds. 

“Now? Are you sure you are feeling alright with that?”

“I must, my darling. I will not be long, I can assure you that. Just wait here.” Thanathea told her, putting up a small smile that only looked true after she kissed the vampire’s hand, before walking alone to a few houses down, her body slipped through the closed door. 

Magdalena could not help but to feel concerned for her lover, not wanting her to put so much pressure on herself. Thanathea had been growing more lenient, allowing angels of death or other death entities to take on more responsibility so she should not rely so much on her omnipotence, but she still desired for Death herself to rest. 

But Thanathea has been doing this since possibly the beginning of time. She knows her boundaries, her limits. She knows when too much is too much. 

At least, the vampire hoped so. 

Although her worry began to grow when Thanathea took longer, a little too long, than usual. This was unlike her and Magdalena wanted to go into the home, but she knew it was impossible. In an occupied home, she needed to be invited inside or risk disintegrating. Curse those vampiric rules, completely infuriating at times. 

The vampire started to consider other options but before she could, the same door opened and Thanathea emerged, dressed in green…

…with a child in her arms and another clinging to the hem of her dress. 

Magdalena blinked a few times in confusion, not knowing quite what to say in the moment. Thankfully, Thanathea had the words for her. 

“They need food. They have not eaten in a while.” Her Death told her, staring at her in a way that the vampire could not quite understand. 

But she looked at the children, the one Thanathea held was still very small, curly blonde hair on his head and big brown eyes, filled with tears. The girl that was nearly hiding behind her lover looked similar but a little older, seeing a mess of the same blonde curls but stormy grey eyes, showing fear but stubbornness. She was afraid, upset, but putting up a front. Pretending to be strong while staring at the vampire warily. 

It nearly broke Magdalena’s heart. 

“Of-of course. I believe there is a diner, close by? They will have food there, they are open all day and night.” She told all three of them, giving the children a soft smile to try and reassure them. Then she caught a whiff of their scent and it completely caught her off guard. 

She had never smelled something like this. It was nothing like mortal scents, or even cosmic beings. It was something entirely different that she could not put her finger on. 

It did not matter in the moment, she had to put those children’s well-being first. “Hello, young ones. I am Magdelena. I am sure my lover, Thanathea, has introduced herself. What are your names?” 

The boy did not say anything, merely sniffling and hiding his face into Thanathea’s neck, but the young girl did speak. “Rose…Rosemarie.” 

“How beautiful of a name. Is this your brother?” Rosemarie nodded. “What is his name?”

“Sylvain.” She replied, her voice still quiet but she began to show her face a little more. 

Magdalena smiled sweetly at both of the children. “Lovely name as well. Do not fret, Thea and I will not bring any harm onto you. Come with us, we shall get you some food.” 

They did not protest as she and Thanathea walked them toward the diner. They were all quiet, no one saying a word, but the vampire could not help but to look at her lover. 

There Death was, holding a little boy that now seemed very comfortable with her, and an older girl that continued to hold onto her green dress. It was a beautiful scene that Magdalena never expected to see, even if it was quite sudden. 

They both absolutely needed to talk about this as soon as they could. 

When they made it to the diner, they moved to a booth in the corner even though there was no one else there. Magdalena went to order them food, hoping at least that the children would like it since it has been a very long time since she has eaten human food before and food has evolved so much over the last century. 

Thanathea made her way to her side while she stayed by the front of the register, now being free of Sylvain, who sat nearly attached to his older sister. “Care to explain what has happened, my beloved?” 

Death sighed under her breath. “Rosemarie and Sylvain Dumont. Five and two years old. Their father is no longer around, left not long after Sylvain was born. Their mother was the one who passed, and drank herself to an early grave, unfortunately.” 

Magdalena’s heart broke once again for the two young children, looking back at them at the booth before looking at her lover again. “Their scents are different. Why is that?”

“Because they are both witches. An odd mix, because their parents are human. Must have been magic somewhere in their ancestry, because it caught up to both children rather than just one.” 

“Witches…” The vampire said to herself in complete surprise, she had never met any other supernatural being before and now she met two young witches, “but that still does not explain why they are now clinging to you and why you are helping them.” 

Thanathea went quiet again, running a hand through her auburn locks for a moment. “I just…could not bear to leave them alone. With no family. Nowhere to go. I thought I could at least make sure that they are well fed before I make my next decision.” She sighed again, louder this time. “Perhaps I am growing soft.” 

“Oh yes, quite soft. It is a beautiful look on you, Thea.” Magdalena told her with a big smile, making Thanathea smile as well. “I would love to see you looking soft like this more often. Soft around those children, around our family…”

Thanathea did not say anything for a moment, as if she was getting the same idea as her lover. “You…you wish to keep them?” 

“They have no parents. No other family. I would not forgive myself if we sent them back to their home with no one to care for them,” Magdalena told her and then placed her hand over Death’s, looking back at the two children sipping their cups of milk, “We could care for them. Teach them about their magick. Raise them as our own. Is that…something you would like to do with me?” 

Thanathea smiled sweetly at her, nodding. “I know you have always wished to have a family. And while they may not be a very conventional family, I would want nothing more than to have a family with you, my love.” 

Magdalena’s smile grew and she leaned forward to press a kiss to Death’s cool cheek. “Let us go make sure our children are well fed, my Thea.” 

And so they did. They were gentle and patient with Rosemarie and Sylvain, making sure that they were comfortable and warm. The little boy fell asleep not long after eating, his cheek pressed against Thanathea’s shoulder. The older girl was drawing on a piece of paper, waves of blue all over while continuously eyeing the vampire and Death, as if she was trying to make sure that they could be trusted. 

Eventually, it seemed as if she made her decision. 

“Are you going to send us back?” Rosemarie asked, her voice still quiet. 

Magdalena shook her head. “We will not, little one. You may come home with us, if you would like. Thea and I will protect you both, I swear it to you.” 

Rosemarie did not say anything for a minute, thinking over the offer. “You won’t hurt us?” 

“Never,” Thanathea said this time, smiling lightly at her, “you both will be safe and sound with us. No harm will come to you.” 

Finally, Rosemarie smiled at them both and nodded. 

That was all they needed. 

Their home would need to change, beds and clothes and blankets for the children, toys of their choosing. But the first night Rosemarie and Sylvain slept in the cottage would always be Magdelana and Thanathea’s favorite, both young children curled close to their bodies, in their arms. 

The vampire would never forget the feeling of finally having her children. 

Magdalena was 145 years old when she realized that she had a family and she was home at last. 

Rosemarie was eleven now, long blonde ringlets that were halfway to her back, her grey eyes still resembling a storm in the middle of the ocean. 

Sylvain was eight now, his own curly blonde locks touching his shoulders and seemed to always be smiling now, running through the woods barefoot whenever he could. 

But Magdalena could not be any happier watching her children grow. 

It was not very easy raising them, of course. Thanathea had to watch them over the day and Magdalena over the night. Not to mention when their magickal abilities kicked in, Thanathea had to teach them ways to be able to manage their powers. Magdalena read book after book on witches so they were well educated on who they truly were. 

It was fairly easy to see their connections and the types of witches they were. Sylvain was easily an earth witch, his affinity with growing flowers and plants at will expressed that. As for Rosemarie…

“Mama! Look!” Rosemarie exclaimed, one hand out in front of her and the water from the ocean swirled upward, twirling around her all over her arm before it fell right back to the shore. 

She was very clearly a water witch and a very good one at that. 

Magdalena smiled widely and clapped her hands together. “Great job, my Rose! Your power continues to grow!” She praised her, making Rosemarie smile back just as Sylvain went up to the vampire. 

“For you, mama.” He held a purple flower up to one of his mothers, making her smile once again. 

“Oh, how sweet, Syl. Thank you very much, my boy. Is this other one for your mom?” Magdalena asked him as she took her flower and he nodded. “How about I give this one to her and you can make a rose for your sister. How does that sound?” 

“Okay!” Sylvain said happily, giving the vampire the green flower for Death, and then ran over to Rosemarie. 

Magdalena smiled sweetly for a moment as she watched the two siblings before strolling over to where Thanathea was, her eyes on the ocean. It was Rosemarie’s idea to go to the beach and with the full moon shining up in the sky, it was the perfect night to do so. 

“M’lady.” The vampire presented the green flower to her, making Thanathea chuckle quietly and smile at the sight. 

“Sylvain is learning very quickly.” She pointed out. 

Magdalena nodded, humming affirmatively under her breath as she placed the flower behind her lover’s ear. “He is. Both he and Rosemarie will make their coven proud.” 

It was no secret that witches belonged in a coven. Once they turned sixteen, they would leave home and go on their own to discover their true coven. 

Rosemarie will leave in five years. Sylvain in eight years. 

It was something that saddened Magdalena but the children have promised both of their mothers that they would visit and call often. 

She appreciated the sentiment and she was truly proud to see the kinds of witches they would grow up to be. 

But it was more than just that. Even now, watching Rosemarie’s hands glowing a soft shade of blue around the water while Sylvain’s hands glowed green to create more flowers, it just made Magdalena feel warm to see how happy and peaceful her children were after everything. 

She never expected to have a family, especially after turning into a vampire. 

She expected to spend the rest of her life alone. 

But then Magdalena met Death. 

They fell in love. 

They adopted their two wonderful children. 

They raised them, told them about who and what they were, and their children accepted them just as Magdalena and Thanathea accepted them. 

No judgment or fear whatsoever. 

Just love. 

“You are quiet, my night. What haunts your mind?” Thanathea asked her, wrapping an arm around the vampire’s waist and pulling her closer to her own body. 

“No haunts,” Magdalena reassured her, “I am merely…happy. Happy with the life we have. A life I never thought I would have. For myself and with you. Yet here you are, right by me, with children who are loved and happy. I could not ask for more.” 

“Does that mean that you do not want to expand our family?” Death asked with an eyebrow raised, slightly amused. 

“No, I still want to expand for children who need help,” The vampire quickly responded with a smile, “I am just happy and content at the moment. And so…so loved. Thank you for your friendship. For your love. I could never thank you enough, my heart and soul.” 

Thanathea smiled at her, her blue eyes filled with so much love that it made something warm burst inside of Magdalena’s chest, cupping the vampire’s cheek. “You do not need to thank me. You made immortality special. In all my existence, you are the only person, the only being, I have ever wanted. I truly love you, my love.” 

“And I love you, my beloved.” Magdalena told her genuinely, melting under Thanathea’s gaze as they kissed before watching over their children playing in the sand again. 

The vampire did not know how long she and her children would be around. But she knew that they would be protected. They will be loved. They will be safe. And Thanathea would be with them through it all. 

After all, Death had been by her side for over a century and will be there for centuries to come. 

Magdalena could not ask for anything more.

[eolewyn1010]

Downton Abbey Fashion 16 - post-war service worker fashion

Back to the servants. Although not a whole lot has changed; the maids only get new uniforms in season 3. So we’ll just look at some coats and hats and Daisy’s new dresses instead.

First off, Mrs Hughes has two new dresses. A black one, par for the course, with a lace front (I kind of want to say stomacher because it’s in this deep V) and some white trim around to make it pop a little. This doesn’t look greatly different than her first season dresses, but it’s going more into a streamlined direction; the waistband isn’t doing so much anymore, the chest is not so strongly separated from the waist. The dark blue dress forgoes a waistline entirely, although not necessarily in the best way imo. I don’t know about this fabric patch on her stomach, guys. Would have liked it better if it went princess-style down the entire front. But I do like the red zigzag trim on her neckline plus the lacing on her neck and down from the shoulders. Seems to be mostly decorative.

This coat is a piece of beauty. Well, it’s the loose style of the beginning 1920s, but the pattern woven into or embroidered onto it? Lovely. I’d also like to point out that Mrs Hughes pairs it with a velvet hat – gotta look nice in the court of law.

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Wooooow, check out O’Brien in her holiday dress. Which is black, like all the others! Joyous! Honestly, I’m almost shocked to see O’Brien go with some fashion, putting on something with a straight-lined, unstructured 1920s cut. It’s also decorated with some lace and beading, and I like the wider sleeves, but all-black with no spot of contrast anywhere seems a little doleful.

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Next, Anna. We see her walk into the village in this pretty simple black tweed coat that I would steal on the spot. Mainly because I hope these big-ass pocket flaps mean it has big-ass pockets. She also wears this little brown straw hat a few times, and I like the ribbon she got for it – the golden ornaments pop so nicely.

But Anna also has another walking suit. Hey there, pinstripes! This is one of those articles that I haven’t really seen on one of the Crawley girls before, but I can easily imagine is a gift from them. Mainly because I’m not sure why Anna, who never shows overmuch enthusiasm for fashion and marries in the most boring dress-and-coat combo she could find, should spend money on another walking suit when she had a perfectly fine one last season already, but also because of the little velvet additions on the collar.

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Is Jane wearing Anna’s coat? She might be, but she has her own hat. I like how, despite the elements of it being very simple, basically just a twisted ribbon and this rectangle patch, it looks quite nicely decorated. Work with what you have!

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I don’t super love Daisy’s new day dress. It’s not much different from her previous, with a similar collar and cuffs on short sleeves, and the checker in and of itself is cute, but the color washes her out a bit. Ah well.

And around Christmas, we finally see her wear something long-sleeved. This grey dress is one she keeps at least into season 3, and a closer look shows that the collar and cuffs are made of a flowered fabric this time, which is cute.

Speaking of flowers, for her bedside wedding to William, Daisy gets prettied up in a blouse with flower print and a very nice beige skirt. This is definitely her best clothes, and I love how she did her hair for the occasion. Much better than the second, anyway… Daisy, darling, why do you wait until the eve of 1920 to try out the Gibson Girl? Big hair won’t be back in fashion for a few decades. I also don’t know about this lilac dress. It’s definitely a change to her everyday look, and the lace collar makes me think it’s also one of her best, but I definitely prefer her wedding look.

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

And because I don’t like this woman enough to give her a category of her own, I’m tacking on Vera Bates. They did Maria Doyle Kennedy dirty, giving her such a bitch to play only to have her kick off one of the more aggravating arcs. But at least her sense of fashion is immaculate. Look at these gorgeous coats! The burgundy one with the buttoned lapels is worn over what seems to be a jacket or waistcoat with some lovely black soutache embroidery, whereas the black coat keeps it simple with some stripes woven in. All the better to brag with these darling golden buttons, the little ruffle tie closure of her blouse, and the fur stola she presumably bought with her hush money.

[deathbxnny]

Welp, my fears came true. Natlan characters have ligther skins (more or less). I knew it was coming but i still wished they could’ve been at least respectful. Oddly enough, i feel neutral about it right now? I mean i still heavily agree with people saying that the characters should have darker skins (THEY LIVE IN COUNTRIES THAT MOSTLY HAVE DARKER SKIN, IT AINT HARD MIHOYO) but i dont think i should jump into that rabbit hole because.. it can get messy and idk if im ready for that.

I really do love their designs and all of them look absolutely gorgeous but i just wished that Mihoyo could’ve just.. not do this.

I hope you dont mind me talking about the Natlan skin conterversy here. You can just delete or not reply to this ask if you feel uncomfortable with bringing the topic in your blog. I just simply wanted to vent my thoughts about this whole thing bc idk.. this feels like it might be the start of something much worse for Genshin.. (and i really hope that does not happened bc genshin is genuinely a good and beautiful game even though they could’ve done better for Sumeru and Natlan characters)

- Flower Anon 🌸

-----♡

(Warning! Cursing lol-)

I'm honestly not really interested in joining the debate about this, mainly because I feel like it's obvious that this is terribly wrong, so I will add that I find this honestly and genuinely disgusting of Hoyoverse. ESPECIALLY as they have proven over and over again that they CAN make poc characters but won't.

Like, cultural and religious aspects aside, you're telling me that you can make a Bear, Cyborg guy and a whole ass BLUEEE person in ZZZ playable, but not make genshin characters have an actual tan? Make them black? Just even a different shade than paper ass white or whatever that grey "brown" color Cyno/Candace are sporting is? It's genuinely insane.

As a Middle Eastern person, I will say that what irked me the most about Sumeru is that the atmosphere and world building felt like HOME, but the characters did NOT. The people from the countries that Sumeru was based on also come in all shades possible, so it really does become really jarring after a while. And Natlan really slaps you in the face with it even more.

The Archon is an Himeko Expy from what I understood, which is fine on it's own, but did they have to make her the god? It really feels lazy and makes you wonder who these characters are really made for atp (besides degenerate Twitch streamers like Tectone ofc-).

So yeah, there is alot more to it, but this is how I view the entire situation (I don't want to make this too long lmao-) and I totally agree with you, Flower Anon!!

-----♡

[kurtmustdie]

posting these design ideas on main because why not

working with how I want to possibly redesign cat!miguel (Reclusestar in the warriors AU), here’s a few quick headshot ideas for em :)

dunno which one I should go with, but I’ve got some notes on each

Original:

Dark blue-grey tortoiseshell with reddish brown markings meant to replicate his most recent suit design. Small, slightly curved up ears with tufts around them that I want to stay in the design regardless of the fur color. A 4 pronged star on his forehead that will also stay true to every other design (supposed to be his leader mark. Usually I like the idea of leader marks either being like.. spots or stripes or something else but a physically inflicted marking not only fits his role better but is also just more visceral and reflects the implied and not so implied cruelty of StarClan in the warrior cats series. For those who don’t know StarClan is like… a holy amalgemation of all of the cats ancestors that went from this mysterious and whymsical force in the first series to unreliable and actually manipulate due to how biased they are.)

— why is he blue

— not accurate to comic design

— more accurate to his movie design, however, I believe the blue in his suit is meant to be light bouncing off of a black suit. So still isn’t exactly accurate

+ simple, easy to replicate markings and probably easy to animate (haven’t tested it but seeing as he barely has any floating stripes or markings other than his star marking it’d be easy to do frame by frame)

+ bluestar

original but the blue is changed to black.

Classic black and orange tortoiseshell. Same other features mentioned before.

— boring. Yawn.

+ the mask markings are more prominent

+ the most accurate to the comics. Miguel has a black and red suit.

same as the last 2 but with a darker blue-black tint

— still blue :/

— his eyes blend into his face and it bothers me

+ colors are actually really nice

+ average cat Miguel design honestly this is how everyone draws him

tortie-tabby dual colored cap mask. Instead of the usual ginger ear tufts he has white, and he has a lot more white in his design than usual

— I don’t like how much white I used for this design, I don’t think it works.

— replicating the fangs in the mask was kinda difficult I didn’t know if I wanted to make it a stripe or apart of the base mask so uh

+ is a tortie-tabby

+ accentuates his jawline!! The other designs did before as well, his markings are just placed a little differently here

+ the white hair is cute

Half and half tortie with minimal white markings (I’m leaning towards using this one)

+ I really like half and half tortie designs

+ cool symmetry

+ he looks like a lil guy here.. just lil.

— jawline isn’t ver visible, especially on the dark brown side :(

Half and half with medium white markings

+ same perks as above

+ accentuates jawline better than the others

(If you’d like please rb for a better sample size for the poll below :3)

Here’s an optional poll, just to see which ones people like more (doesn’t mean I’m gonna choose that one)

[thekatebridgerton]

Modern Bridgerton couples + Pets

Just thinking about which kind of domesticated menaces they would bring into their homes.

Saphne: their first pet is definitely a Basset Hound because Daphne is a dork. Name is Princess, she is super cute. Simon later decides he can't take being outnumbered and gets a Pitbull (with some manly name like Maverick) to teach Princess how to be a good guardian dog. Jokes on him the Pitbull ends up twice as spoiled as the Basset hound and follows him everywhere huffing for cuddles.

Kanthony: They have Newton the demon corgi, although they probably get a mate for Newton at some point and just enjoy life as proud corgi grandparents when Newton & wife begin making puppies. They most likely end up with a houseful of corgis because Kate is not okay with neutering Newton and Anthony can't deny her anything.

Benophie: These two are definitely bird people. All their birds are rescue and they keep them in a special open part of My Cottage greenhouse, while rehabilitating broken wings. Officially they have a chicken, two parrots, a parakeet and a Cockatoo (Pollock, Picasso, Monet, Dali and Frida) but they feed every bluejay, canary, raven or winged personality that comes to their birdhouses. So you never really know exactly how many birds they actually have at home.

Polin: I want to say they are also Dog people. But Colin just looks like the guy who has a thing for exotic reptiles whenever he travels. And Penelope would definitely appreciate the irony of owning a Chameleon. Also their pets would be the protected species kind that need their own enclosure. Colin has Popcorn, a Blue Iguana, which he rescued in the Cayman Islands and a couple of very colorful Geckos (Muffin and Nugget). while Penelope just keeps a tortoise she's had since she was little called Lola, and a blue Panther Chameleon called Ozzy, that Colin got her for her 16th birthday. (her chameleon is the boss of that house)

Philoise: Eloise has a grey Persian Cat that looks perpetually grumpy called Napoleon, Phillip has a brown Saint Bernard that he calls Noel but his kids call Noodle. El's cat did not take it well when Eloise moved in with Phillip and the twins, simply because the dog was being way too friendly with Eloise. And the cat wasn't having it. So he marked his territory in a very feline way.

Franchel: Michael was never much for pets, but Francesca has a whole aquarium of Koi fish in her apartment and loves to add pieces of decorations to it so the fishes begin growing on him. After the get married, Michael actually builds Fran a pond with it's own ecosystem so she can raise her Koi in relative freedom outside of the small aquarium they are used to.

Hyraeth: These two are not exactly pet people, but I feel like teenage Gareth owns a horse that he takes care of very well and Hyacinth is persuaded to help out with his horse and begins loving it as well so she gets Anthony to buy her a pony which she names Twilight Sparkle. they both grow up to be very responsible horse owners.

Grucy: they share ownership over the class pet in Elementary school. A spotted bunny named Waldo. And they low key treat the rabbit as their child. Since Lucy is technically not allowed to have pets by her uncle and Gregory was banned from the pet store after the last 'free the animals' incident he was involved in

[archived-junkissed]

what colours do you associate with ur moots?

omg ive been waiting for somebody to ask me smth like this !!! i'm a very visual person so there's pics & a little blurb for each of yall below <33 also i only did the top ten moots i talk to most often so if i didn't include you definitely send me an ask and i'll tell you yours!! i would love to do more i just didn't wanna make this post a hundred miles long lol

@onlymingyus: indigo + dark blueish grey

i couldn’t find pics that were the exact color i’m thinking of but this kind of dark denim-y color is pretty close. you’re like that color right after the sun sets where it’s not yellow anymore but it’s definitely not black yet. it’s really casual and comfortable like when you’re walking home on a summer night when it starts getting dark early and it’s almost too dark to see but not yet

@duhnova: dark pastel purple + white

i’m probably projecting because ik you like kuromi but i really think you’re a mix of dark and light purple, not too light like pastel purple and not too dark like violet. like how in the pictures cheol is wearing a white shirt but it’s balanced by his dark hair or by the dark windows of the bus in the background, you’re really balanced in my mind like you have the good parts of both light and dark and also you just have this super cute energy that's very squishy like cheol

@seokmins: pale yellow + beige

elv is everybody’s sunshine so ofc you’re yellow but i think it’s more of a soft pale yellow. i feel like you’re usually a little more shy or quiet so you’re not a big loud bright yellow and also when i was looking up pictures of seokmin i didn’t see any that were really bright yellow so it just confirms my theory !! it may look a little plain but honestly i don’t think you would like standing out and being super bright

@petrichor-han: white + grey

you’re a very neutral white to me, but not necessarily because it means a lack of color!! you always use the white heart emoji and i think the color (and the emoji) really fits you because even though plain white can seem intimidating in its blankness, on you it seems so kind and gentle. as a fellow felix enthusiast i think you’re really like him too because he can also seem intimidating with his voice but in reality he’s the sweetest lil guy and i want to give him (and you) a big huge hug

@lovelyhan: dark blue + black

hello kai lovelyhan i said it in the reblogs of your post but!! to me you’re like the dark blue of the ocean at night. like sitting on the docks at the edge of town, away from the noise and the crowd of the city where it’s quieter and the water is calmer. early in the morning when it’s still dark the boats will start moving and it’ll become loud like the rest of the city but for this little period at the height of the night it’s quiet enough to relax in

@wonwussy: forest green + brown

to me you’re like a historic building covered with vines, either hidden deep in an overgrown forest, or sitting at the end of a busy street that people walk past all day. i watch too much of the history channel so i pictured like an old factory from the 1900s or a schoolhouse (and i mean old in a cool way, not old in an old way lol). i feel like you have a lot of history and so many cool stories to tell that aren’t always obvious at first glance

@idyllic-ghost: gold + moss green

in my brain you’re very sparkly and shimmery like a sunset. like these temptation concept pics you have kind of a nature-y feel like a little insect exploring a forest. and you are a bee after all so you have to have a little yellow lol. like sunlight shining through a bee’s wings

@strawberryya: pink + red

the brightest and pinkest pink!! i associate you with strawberries not just because of your url but because you’re so vibrant and sweet like fruit. you’re always so fun to talk to and you would be strawberry ice cream because you’re so soft and you melt when you’re around people and overall just seeing you interact with people is really cute and sweet

@aceofvernons: aquamarine + pale blue

obviously you Are blue like you are the very concept of the color blue. but there are many many shades of blue and i think you are this specific aquamarine teal-y kind. cyan is a little too bright and cerulean is a little too dark so you’re balanced perfectly in the middle. like really bright clear waters or that pool tile greenish blue because i think for the most part you’re just floating along. whatever life throws at you, you just say fuck yeah and keep floating and it’s so cute. honestly i think nothing can phase you except maybe vernon in which you’d start splashing around like a feral animal and getting everything within a 10 mile radius wet

[easterartist]

(*coughs in new au*)

|How the heck did the party guy get reincarnated into the faceman?|

|Chapter 1|

When Leo was younger, he had always had strange dreams.. They were always vivid when he was asleep..

But when he woke up, they faded into a blur. He could never remember the details clearly once he was out of dreamland, nor could he recall much about it.

… Although, he did remember certain colors vividly. Everytime without fail, he would remember the colors.. Red, Blue, and purple. Sometimes there was yellow and grey too. And sometimes brown was a prominent color. 

He felt a connection to those colors, and yet he couldn't for the life of him figure out why. It just was. It was confusing. The dreams held familiarity, the colors even more so. And he always been searching for why…

When he got older, he never stopped pondering it. He never forgot the colors that meant so much to him.. He never brought it up to anyone either. He felt he couldn't, because why would he bring up something so small? It wasn't that important, and he didn't want to bother anybody with it. 

… Now he kinda wished he mentioned something about it. Mainly because he was feeling intense deja vu and had a particularly strong feeling that it was connected to those dreams.

He hadn't even been doing anything major, he was just sitting and reading some comics that he managed to nab from the pile they had set up in a corner of the lair. 

What was causing it? He had no clue…

Eh, he'll figure it out later probably.. For now, he'll shrug it off..

… why did he feel like he shouldn't be shrugging it off…?

It was later that day when the feeling came back full force. He paused in his trek through the sewer pipe, his gaze sweeping across the empty tunnels in confusion. Something felt so familiar.. And.. Also so wrong. It felt like something bad was about to happen. 

He was tense now, his beak pressed into a thin line as he continued to scan his surroundings. He.. Probably shouldn't stay in one place too long. He needed to leave and most likely find a new path to get back home.

… well, portalling would also work… maybe he should portal out of the sewers, and then portal elsewhere? Make it as confusing as possible to keep someone from following him. That's a pretty nice idea actually. Mind Raph would be proud.

He reached back and grabbed his katana, sliding it out of its sheath. He then slashed the air with the blade, runes lighting up on the metal as a portal opened infront of him. He quickly made to step through it, him wanting to get out of this particular part of the sewers as fast as possible. 

Honestly, he didn't know why he didn't just portal home instead of taking the long way. He usually did…

"Well well well.. Isn't this just fascinating."

Leo jumped, a noise of surprise leaving him as he whirled around to face the origin of that voice. His eyes briefly met another set before he felt a sharp pressure on his neck, him tensing a moment. His body then stopped responding to him, his vision flickering and fading as his body became similar to a rag doll.

He tried saying anything, tried moving, tried something. But nothing worked. He couldn't see the person anymore, and all he could hear was the person cackling as they spoke in a singing voice," I finally found youuuu~!" 

Before he completely blacked out, he felt their arms wrap around his limp body, them lifting him up with ease. And he smelled something that made his blood cold as ice…

This person smelled like the Krang..

(Oh btw, here's the ao3 link:

)

[watercolor-rainclouds]

long ass post about the original designs of my ocs (these are only the ones i've redesigned later, also not 100% accurate to the original designs because picrews have their limits but i was too lazy to draw them lol)

valerian (rian) started as john. still a vampire but with a whole different skin tone and everything. he used to look so boring omg. also at one point i almost cut him out of the whole story but instead i ended up changing him so much im not sure if it even counts as a redesign anymore lol.

mirabel was always named mirabel years before encanto came out and at the time i didnt know it was an actual name lol, originally as a nickname of miranda isabel but now it's just her actual name. also she was always a fairy, but once again her whole appearance changed (except her style). also her "theme color" went from pink to yellow, only because i wanted the six most important characters to make up a rainbow lol.

olga started as jane. she remained pretty similar except i got rid of the bangs and gave her shorter hair. i think i also made her taller but its hard to tell because my ocs used to not have set heights/height differences because i never drew them. once again, her power (shapeshifting) stayed the same, just like everyone else's.

i've mentioned this a lot i think, but ari started off as a boy (thats the backstory of why i made her trans). her appearance didnt change too much more than what transitioning would change about her. i gave her glasses back when she was still going to be a guy, but originally i dont think she had them.

and finally, lynn. her appearance didnt change a whole lot actually, but her role did. shes still an important character but she was originally going to be the protagonist. (also, i mostly draw her grey/posessed version but she has light brown hair normally). her name spelling kept changing between Lyn and Lynn, but i settled on Lynn. at some point i also gave her vitiligo but it's not visible on her grey version because all color is basically sucked out of her. when shes her regular self, she does have it though (unless i forget to add it while coloring her because its really hard to remember what details i kept vs what i didnt, but she is supposed to have vitiligo, so feel free to beat me with a stick if i draw her non-posessed version without it).

the last one of the old main cast would be edward but all i changed was give him glasses, and i made him way less important to the story. he got replaced by ellie as a major character because ellie had a lot more personality at the time. also, lynn got replaced by kiara who didn't even exsist originally. i drew kiara during a class one time and i liked her design so much i wanted to add her to this story, and lynn felt boring so she got replaced by her.

all of these ocs were originally inspired by the appearance of people i saw irl (as most of my ocs are), but the redesigns thankfully made them a bit more unique.

also its kinda funny because one could say my current oc lineup is "forced representation" (which is stupid, yes, but one could say this shit) but actually it was completely accidental. like i individually redesigned all of them, i didnt even have the other characters or the goal of representation in mind lol. like i made mirabel fat at one point "because why not", and then happened to get inspired from a black girl's tiktok so i made her black as well. like i just kept adding things to each of them until it felt right, and i accidentally ended up with a diverse and fun to draw cast of characters. and like i was already planning to make ari and olga a couple, so when i changed ari to be a girl i just decided to make olga a lesbian (ari was already bisexual before i even made her trans, so i didnt need to change anything about her). and then it was like "what if ellie has a gf? and what if its kiara?" (ellie has also always been bi) idk how it took me so long to realise im bisexual when i kept making my favorite ocs bi lol

so yeah. thats it for the embarrassing original designs of my main ocs. they look much cooler now because i got better at drawing people but i think its interesting/fun to look back to where i started

[deleahtarte]

Episode Bradley Fisher [ Young God (a little death) Chapter 6 ]

Summary: Bradley’s first impression of Kenny

Note: Since we were talking about Bradley, I figured now’s the time to release this short! It’s not much, but I figured it’s like an appetizer since we’ll be in Bradley’s head soon

Butters preferred guys who are blonde.

It was an assumption, but not one made without any proof. Every magazine Butters stared at featured men whose hair was so blonde it almost looked white. But Butters didn’t want it to be white, he wanted a soft blonde with no brassy undertones and no hint of grey. It was a complicated color to reach.

Bradley is born blonde, but not the right shade. His is an unflattering yellow that makes it look borderline brown in the sun. Because of that fact alone, he has a shoebox full of brightening masks, products for color-treated hair, and shampoo with chamomile for blond hair. Being the Blonde Butters wanted demands a certain investment.

So, when he first laid eyes on Kenny and found that he possessed hair the exact shade of blonde Butters liked—he wondered if he had to do what Bradley did, too. If Kenny had to dedicate 3 hours out of every two weeks to dye his roots so it looks as if his hair was natural. Or if he was simply born that way. But then, he began to wonder if Butters had only liked this shade of hair because it was Kenny’s. Either or did not make Bradley happy.

Kenny McCormick, as Bradley easily found out, is the resident playboy of South Park. He’s an inferno, a fire that burns so hot it draws all the oxygen from the room. There's no question as to how he's been able to have any girl, anytime, anywhere. There's an exciting magnetism to him that Bradley has never seen present in any other being he’s come across, one that is especially non existent in himself.

He’s funny, adventurous, and has the kind of tempting charm not a lot of people have the power to resist. And to add on top of that, he’s mysterious and devastatingly handsome to boot. Those were not exaggerated praises either, they all came from the mouths of girls who were more than happy to answer his questions.

“Kenny?” His classmate from 6 period perked up upon the mention of the name. “Oh, he’s a sweetheart. Probably the easiest person to get along with out of that group. He knows everyone just like how everyone knows him. You’ll like him!”

“You sound so confident.” He pointed out.

“Because I am.” She replied easily, crossing her arms. “Unless you’re, you know, one of the boyfriends of the girls he slept with.”

A playboy with a habit of visiting plenty of beds. Now isn’t that something?

No matter how many times he asked, or how many ways he did, all good words were spoken for Kenny. He’s talented in soccer, they say. The life of the party, one exclaimed. He’s reclusive when he wants to be, and his skills in bed are—well, Bradley won’t finish that sentence.

It didn’t take long at all from him to put two and two together. That the boy who Butters had a crush on from even back then was the same boy he’s looking at right now.

Kenny glares at him from across the lunch table, most likely wishing Bradley would drop dead from a heart attack here and now. He’s so possessive over Butters it was almost comical. They didn’t even have a proper conversation with each other and Bradley knew. He ought to say he’s never had anyone dislike him so strongly or out right until now. He could almost laugh.

There’s a girl by his side who clings to his arms, and Bradley has to fight the constant urge to shake her off. She had gotten too comfortable far too quickly. But he couldn’t do that, because gentlemen don’t do that. And Butters deserved a gentleman. Bradley remembered that’s what he wanted.

“Bradley, you have to come to Token’s party. It’s like, the best party in all of South Park. No, all of Colorado.” A girl with blonde hair exclaims. His eyes slide to Butters to gauge his reaction. Would Butters be there? Did Butters like people who go to parties?

“She’s exaggerating.” Token chimed in. Bradley still couldn’t figure out Butters feelings from studying his expression, which leaves Bradley one option. “It’s just like any other party, but you can come if you want, dude.”

Pretending to have to think about it, Bradley turns to to look Butters straight on. It makes him nervous, he won’t front. Something about looking at the object of your affections dead on when you’ve only been staring at him through a picture in your wallet will do that to you. “Will you be there, Butters?”

Immediately after the question is out, Bradley could see Kenny visibly tense up. Butters too, seemed to hesitate at his answer. “Um…Sure. Yes, I’ll be there.”

It’s settled. “Then I’ll be there.”

Stan turns to Kenny. “What about y—“

“I’m going.” Kenny said, cutting his friend off. Then he coughs, and more casually this time mends his tone, “I mean, yeah of course I’ll be there.”

Everything Kenny felt towards Bradley was clear on his face. He’s practically an open book, at this point. Bradley has to avert his eyes or risk laughing in the guys face, which he could only imagine would piss a guy like Kenny off more. People say he can be impassive and quiet, but so far, Bradley has seen none of that.

When he calms himself enough to look back, Butters is whispering something into Kenny’s ears.

Bradley has to look away once again, for an entire different reason, this time.

[zeldadiscussions]

The take which I am pointing out the flaws of is, in and of itself, approaching the game from a very western point of view. I am only responding in kind and pointing out how, even within the context of a western view, the take holding up relies on erasing Rauru’s coding.

Let’s break it down from a Japanese perspective, though. To most Japanese people, best as I understand from conversations with them, you are either Japanese or you are a foreigner. The undeniable Mezo-American elements of Zonai culture (the primary elements imo) would be as foreign to Japanese people as the Middle Eastern elements of the Gerudo. There are East Asian elements in Zonai culture yes, but to many Japanese people someone who is Korean, or Chinese, or even mixed race would be considered foreign too.

So. Even from a Japanese perspective, they are both foreigners.

Can we also take a moment here and ask ourselves why people keep calling Rauru vs Ganondorf colorist when Rauru’s skin (fur?) is literally dark grey? He might be even darker than Ganondorf.

And since Sonia is so often neglected in these conversations, which is unsettling considering what Ganondorf did to her, let’s take another moment to remember that she also founded Hyrule and is visibly tan. Which is pretty noteworthy because, considering the problems broader Japanese society does indeed have with colorism, Nintendo making the founding queen of one of their most popular fictional lands a brown woman really has not been given enough attention in these talks imo.

Could we all please also consider the fact that Japanese people aren’t a monolith and individuals from there aren’t incapable of being progressive? Hayao Miyazaki, whose work heavily influenced BotW & TotK, is an elderly Japanese man who pretty famously makes films that are anti-war, anti-fascist, and feminist.

On top if that, Nintendo started in Japan but it is now a company with international reach that planned this game for an international audience… Do people really think they didn’t even attempt to consider western racial sensitivities when planning this worldwide anticipated game?

So… no. With all due respect, the take simply does not hold up from any perspective other than “poc characters aren’t allowed to be bad guys ever” which, as was pointed out to me by another Zelda fan, would be limiting to poc characters in a whole other way, would it not?

Another point of discussion on TotK is “it’s racist/colorist/colonialist/imperialist that Ganondorf, the sole cause of most of Hyrule’s problems, is a poc coded foreign man.” (Foreign to Central Hyrule, I guess.)

While you’re all super valid for being on guard about that… Rauru, the guy Ganondorf initially starts beef with in TotK, is also a poc coded “foreign” man.

Apparently there is concept art of TotK Rauru as an old white guy. That was probably based on the Rauru from OoT, and likely from earlier on in development. The final version of TotK Rauru is not only younger, but the coding of his people’s culture is both Mezo-American and [Correction] East Asian.

Also, [Correction] the Zonai descended from the sky. They literally like… immigrated to Hyrule’s surface.(It’s not completely clear unless I forgot something but either Rauru and Mineru came down themselves recently or they are the descendants of immigrants.)

Now, pointing this out isn’t to imply poc cannot be imperialists. The Chinese Empire is a historical rollercoaster ride of imperialism spanning several dynasties. The Persian Empire, the Aztec Empire, etc. Hopefully it’s clear here Rauru is not somehow immune to skepticism just because he isn’t white coded.

It’s just… if the primary basis of the concerns that TotK is imperialist propaganda or colorist is the belief that Rauru is white coded… he’s not. Judging by his clothes and his people’s architecture and iconography, Rauru is coded as poc. He’s not the only one, either. Zelda is white passing but overtly canonically mixed race. Sonia is brown. Zelda’s dad Rhoam was also visibly tan. Hylians overall have much more variance in skin tone and cultural coding than they did in previous games (Lurelin villagers, the stable folk, etc.) It seems Nintendo learned from OoT that one poc sage wasn’t enough to offset the colorist/racist implications of your main villain being a dude from the desert who takes over a country of pale people.

So all in all it really doesn’t seem like Ganondorf is being othered here… Rauru is also an “other” to the ancient Hylians but he’s their leader.

[satuguro]

*ೃ࿐ BLUE MONDAY

[ ACT I: A HELPING HAND ]

ethan landry x reader

#SYNOPSIS— richie compares you to wednesday addams, you don't know how to socialize, ethan wants you to teach him how to smoke, and you and ethan find something you weren’t supposed to see.

#CONTAINS— murder, gore!!!!, satire (!!), familial issues (mentioned more later on), mentions of anxiety/ptsd, richie x reader (one sided), stalker behavior, fake dating later on (maybe), suggestive content

#AUTHORSNOTE— a tiktok edit that wasn't even related to scream gave me this idea. but feel free to ask to be on the taglist! i also posted this earlier but i didn't mean to oops

your hands shook violently as you dropped the bloodied sculpture.

what had you done? how could you have done such a horrible thing?

your world, once full of monotonous colors, a life full of black, grey, and white, was suddenly stained crimson. and it was all over the floor, all over your hands, and the sculpture that was once such a beautiful white marble was suddenly colored red.

it was a sculpture of ophelia from shakespeare's hamlet, her once delicate face now splattered red with your father's blood. his body laid on the white tile, the crimson seeping into the grout. like roadkill, he laid unmoving, the huge bloodied mess in the back of his head like squished red jello covered in strawberry jam. your mother's bloodcurdling screams melted into the background as you stared, wide eyed and unblinking, unfazed and unbothered.

good riddance.

were you supposed to knock?

you weren't sure.

the door to the apartment seemed far, as though you couldn't fully reach it without taking a large step forward. but now, the off-white door was right in front of you, as though it was staring into your soul, beckoning for you to come forward, to knock, to enter the possible hell of people waiting on the other side.

you only knew mindy, and yet all the voices on the other side of the door belonged to everyone but mindy. that was only a little bit terrifying.

the door continued to stare at you as you stood outside the apartment.

you had been standing there for nearly 8 minutes now, just mentally preparing yourself to knock. fingers twiddled with one of your rings, rolling it back and forth across your knuckles. down to the pinky, back up to the pointer finger, you continuously rolled it, taking in steady breaths and steady inhales. you could do this. you could knock and make yourself known to mindy's entire friend group—

"hello?"

never mind. maybe you could make them knock for you.

turning around, your eyes met ice blue ones. a guy— older than you, somewhere in his mid 20s —stood in front of you, a charming (though, the feeling it gave you was the opposite) smile on his face as he looked at you. he had golden brown hair, only mildly curly, as it looked like he used product that didn't quite fit it. everything about him looked perfect but there was something off. you felt that there was something off.

"can you open the door?" you said, the question coming out more as a statement as you nodded towards the entrance.

"most people don't actually open the doors for strangers," the man said with a slight tilt of his head, and you huffed in annoyance at the subtle arrogance that oozed out of him.

"richie, jesus christ at least wait— oh!" another guy walked down the hall, his hands on the straps of his backpack as he walked up to the man in front of you— richie. he was younger than him, but the features between the both of them were almost too alike. they shared the same hair color and hair type (though, the new boy seemed to not put as much effort into his curls as richie did), but their eye colors were different. the other guy had warmer eyes, colored a beautiful hazel that was far more inviting than richie's steely ones.

"you're mindy's new roommate," he said, the frustration that was once on his face disappearing as he held his hand out to you. "i'm ethan," he said with a toothy smile.

slowly, you put your hand in his and shook it once. "strong grip," you stated towards him, making his eyebrows raise in slight surprise.

"oh. thanks!" ethan pulled his hand back, wiping it on his sweater. "and uh, you're y/n."

"yeah." you blinked.

"cool." an unsettling silence encompassed the three of you as you stood in front of them, still blocking their way to the door.

"anyways," richie finally said, breaking the awkward silence as he carefully moved past you. "'scuse me—" he pulled out his keys, your eyes widening in realization that it was his apartment.

at this point, mindy was dead to you. this was too much embarrassment to feel on your first day of meeting her friends, but did they know that? no. your face was completely blank, showing nothing more than indifference as your mind raced with just how horrible of a situation this was. you had to socialize. you had to meet people. and the worst part was that you knew you needed to do it. for the sake of your (lack of) social skills.

their apartment was nice, you realized. decorated with a mix of framed posters of star wars and movies, thrifted rugs and cool lamps that you were sure were thrifted as well. it was well decorated. that was a good conversation starter.

"nice apartment." you stated, making ethan turn to you with a smile (was he always smiling?).

"thanks. it took ages for my sister quinn and i to actually decorate it," ethan said proudly, kicking off his shoes next to you, "richie helped by getting the posters and stuff." his tone changed when he mentioned richie, who you supposed was his brother. was that.. disdain?

you put your shoes on the little shoe rack near the entrance, heart thumping repeatedly in your ears as you finally turned to the living room where everyone was sitting. you could only recognize mindy, anika, her girlfriend, and chad, her twin brother. everyone else were basically strangers.

"hey—" richie began as he walked by the living room. "what's her name again, ethan?" richie asked his brother quietly, who only sighed.

"y/n's here," ethan said, nodding over to where you stood by the entranceway. you raised a hand up in a silent wave, face still feigning indifference as everyone turned to you.

"y/n!" mindy, sitting next to anika on the floor, waved at you with a bright smile on her face. "you were out there already?" she asked you, smile faltering just a bit.

"yeah. didn't wanna intrude." you said dryly, making mindy roll her eyes. she knew better than anyone that you had a little bit of trouble making friends with others. you weren't the type to talk a lot (you were a great listener though), you liked being by yourself, and you were only a little socially awkward.

how you made friends with someone as outspoken as mindy was beyond you.

"y/n, come sit!" anika said excitedly, patting the sofa behind her. you had only talked to her a handful of times, but she was nice. easy to talk to. you began to walk over, socks shuffling over the hardwood floor as you mentally prepared yourself (again) to socialize.

"hey—" ethan began, making you turn to him, eyebrows raised slightly. he looked at you with a sheepish smile, cheeks a slight shade of pink as he asked, "are you staying for dinner?"

".. do you not mind it if i do?" you asked, making ethan shake his head, curls bouncing with him.

"not at all! just wanted to know how many plates i was putting out tonight," ethan said with a reassuring grin, making you nod slowly, hands clasped in front of you.

staring at him with (almost) unblinking you eyes, letting silence wash over the both of you for a few seconds, you said, "thanks."

ethan walked into his kitchen, where quinn was standing, drinking one of her smoothies as she scrolled through her phone. looking up at her younger brother, she raised a brow at the red that decorated his cheeks, a sly smirk tugging at her lips. "you look embarrassed."

"i'm not," ethan said stubbornly, avoiding quinn's eyes as he reached up to get some plates from the cupboard.

richie stood near the stove, mixing something in a pan as ethan moved behind him. "she's pretty," he said, making ethan turn to him in confusion.

"y/n?"

"yeah," richie said with a slight roll of his eyes. "always so slow, ethan," he muttered, making ethan's jaw clench at his condescending words. "she may be a little weird with the whole 'wednesday addams' kind of stare, but she's hot."

now it was quinn's turn to roll her eyes as she moved past her brothers. "and that's my cue to leave. seriously, richie, stop talking about women like that," she grumbled, walking out of the kitchen to introduce herself to you.

"don't you agree, ethan?" richie said as though he didn't hear quinn's grumbles, his tone making ethan huff in annoyance as he set the table for everyone.

"she isn't that weird."

"she barely blinks." richie glanced at you from the kitchen bar, watching as quinn introduced herself to you. you had met everyone else already except sam, who couldn't show up because she was out on some date. not that richie was annoyed by that; they ended their relationship on good terms. he wasn't annoyed. not at all. but even while meeting all these people, you barely managed more than a small, rare smile. "she should smile more."

"if she doesn't want to, then she doesn't want to." the toxic masculinity that practically surrounded his brother almost made ethan want to gag. and if ethan was more brutally honest, he'd safely say that that was one of the many things he hated about his brother.

richie kirsch was not a good person, and despite the fact that blood ran thicker than water, ethan hated him. he hated how arrogant he was, how everyone was blinded by his charm (that was obviously fake), how richie refused to take no for an answer and how everything had to go his way or else all hell would break loose. he hated how cruel he was, even when they were children, and how he could talk himself out of any conversation because richie knows he's intelligent.

ethan and quinn were only living with him because it was the cheaper option compared to dorming at blackmore, but ethan was seriously considering spending thousands of dollars just to move out.

but ethan would never admit that out loud.

you sat quietly at dinner, seated comfortably next to tara (who was just as quiet as you) and ethan, your fork stabbing into the pasta in your bowl. the conversations around you were lively, and you found yourself much more relaxed than you did when you first entered. you knew everyone's names already; tara, quinn, sam (who wasn't there, but tara told you about her regardless), ethan, and richie.

richie, whose stares didn't go unnoticed by you as you ate quietly, listening to people's conversations. you stabbed your pasta again before eating it contentedly, ignoring the way richie's ice cold eyes flickered towards you every once in a while.

"what's your major, y/n?" quinn asked you as she ate, genuine curiosity in her eyes as she waved her fork around.

and suddenly you felt everyone's eyes on you again. pushing down that anxious feeling that bubbled in your chest, you swallowed your food before answering, "psychology with a minor in criminology."

"i assumed you were pretty smart," richie hummed from his seat, but you didn't reply to him, only choosing to nod. you couldn't get rid of that icky feeling in your gut every time he spoke or looked at you; and just by your body language, it showed. you hadn't spoken to him at all ever since you met him.

and richie noticed that. his jaw clenched as he watched you turn your attention to ethan, who spoke with you with a fond smile on his lips.

"you should come with us to the halloween party tomorrow," tara said before she drank her water. "everyone's going except my sister—"

"and me," quinn stated, looking up from her food. she sent them an apologetic smile. "i'm meeting up with tyler again."

anika's eyes nearly popped out of her eyes, and mindy's hand came up to pat her back to avoid the possibility of her choking on her food. "again?! are you fucking kidding me—"

"i thought we told you not to go back! do you not have any self respect?!" mindy said with a groan, their conversation dying into the background as you sent tara a tight lipped smile.

you picked at the pasta in your bowl, "parties aren't really my thing."

"you can stick with us!" ethan said, his hand covering his mouth as he chewed. a twinge of hope was in his eyes. "i kind of suck at drinking anyway so.."

"how do you suck at drinking?" you asked with a slight frown.

"i just do!"

you sighed, still stabbing at the pasta. if you went, you'd have to get through the party. survive it, even. but it was a good opportunity for you to get out of the dorm.. and it would probably help you socialize.

"think of it as like," mindy said, waving her fork towards you, "exposure therapy."

you raised a brow. "i don't think you know how exposure therapy works."

"do i look like a licensed professional?" mindy asked with a roll of her eyes. "it's basically what it is!"

you ended up agreeing to go.

"where's your costume?"

"i'm a rainbow. duh." mindy motioned to her brightly colored sweatshirt, all while trying to keep still as anika did her orange eyeliner. her eyebrows raised, impressed at your costume choice as she took in your pink dress, the crown on your head, and the jug of faux blood you were carrying out of your shared bathroom. "carrie? impressive choice."

"if you blink one more time, min, i swear," anika muttered, making her girlfriend shut up as she swiped the eyeliner over her lid. she turned to you, flashing a grin when she saw the blood. "are we helping you pour that over yourself?"

"yeah, outside," your ring moved back and forth on your knuckles again, the anxiety of going to your first college party making your heartbeat thrum loudly in your ears. the small bag around your body was zipped tightly shut, your joints weighing heavy inside. "i don't wanna have to deal with the mess if we did it in our bathroom," you explained, looking at yourself in the mirror one more time.

"you look good. i'd say i did a really good job," tara said as she laid on your couch, sending you a reassuring smile. glancing down at her phone, she sighed in annoyance. "i thought the boys were supposed to be here by now."

"chad said they had to make ethan a last minute costume," mindy replied, her voice quiet as anika added the last touches to her makeup. "am i done yet?"

you swallowed down your nerves, twirling your ring quicker over your knuckles. back and forth. forward and back. pinky finger to pointer finger. you were lucky enough that you found yourself getting by with mindy's friend group without having to do much talking, but you swore that if anyone approached you at the party you were simply not going to speak. you didn't want to.

three knocks at the door made you look up and walk over with a sigh, opening the door. you came face to face with quinn, who was dressed as a fallen angel, by the looks of it.

"you're here," you said blankly, making quinn shift in embarrassment.

"tyler canceled on me."

"congratulations," you said with a small smile, making quinn snort in amusement.

"thank fuck," anika said with a laugh, pulling away from mindy with a victorious smile. "you're done!"

you opened the door wider for everyone to come inside. chad was dressed as a cowboy, richie as patrick bateman (a choice that made you resist the urge to roll your eyes), and ethan as what seemed to be a cardboard knight.

"what are you?" you asked ethan, the question coming out more rude than you intended, but he didn't seem to mind.

face flushing a light pink, ethan replied, "i ran out of ideas. so chad and i spent the day making me a costume."

"i can tell." you grimaced at your own words, shaking your head to yourself as you shut the door. "sorry. that sounded rude."

"oh, it's okay!" ethan said with a bright smile, one that was so contagious that you couldn't help but manage a smile back. "it's a, uh, very homemade knight costume."

"you look good." you managed to say, tone as monotone as ever, but your words seemed to make ethan's blush darken.

"you do too." he looked at your costume briefly, eyes landing on the jug of faux blood in your left hand. "carrie?"

"yup. i had the dress and i just got the crown from dollar tree," you said with a small shrug.

"good choice," richie hummed, making you turn to him with an indifferent stare. "you look good. i'm sure the blood will really make the costume."

you barely even regarded richie as you nodded. "right." you said, before walking away, not wanting to give him more of your time and effort. there was something so horribly off about him, something that made your stomach churn as though you were suddenly sick. but richie followed you (much to your chagrin), unable to catch your not-so-obvious hints that you were simply not interested.

"can i help you with that?" richie asked you, nodding over to the jug of blood in your hand. there was something hungry in his eyes, as though the idea of you covered in blood— faux or not —was something exciting. something he was looking forward to. "y'know— pouring it all over you."

"actually, we already said we'd help her with it," anika said as she sat next to mindy, forcing a tight lipped smile towards richie. "i don't think she needs another pair of hands to help."

"right." annoyance flashed in richie's eyes at that, and he turned to you with those cold, steely irises again, as though anika's statement wasn't enough of a sign for him to fuck off. "you sure?"

you were good at hiding your emotions. but that talent came at a price as you stared at richie, an unreadable look on your face. the only emotion you showed was the flash of annoyance that flew over your eyes. "you heard her, right?" you stated, your voice as monotone as ever as you stared at richie.

and ethan watched it all, a mix of pride and worry in his chest as he watched you stare at richie as though he was nothing more than the epitome of annoyance.

whatever richie's preconceived notion about you being too socially awkward to stand up for yourself was obviously false.

and just by the challenging glint in richie's eye, he hated that he was wrong.

"we should probably go," quinn said, sending richie a warning glare as she stood up.

the cold night air made you shiver slightly as you stood awkwardly in front of anika, who was grinning a little too wildly for your liking as she held the jug in her hands. "so, how do you wanna do this?" she asked you, practically bouncing with excitement.

"normal carrie style. just pour it over my head," you said, shutting your eyes and bracing yourself for the cold liquid. and once it fell over you, soaking almost your entire body with the blood, you shivered, unable to stop your slight smile when you heard everyone else laugh and cheer. blood dripped from your dress and onto the pavement, creating a mess akin to a murder scene all over the grey concrete.

"now you're ready to go," tara said with a grin, making you open your eyes and look down at yourself. some of your body wasn't bloody, but a good portion of it was, and that was enough for you. it was only mildly uncomfortable, as the faux blood was cold and was already drying, but you were no coward; you’d pull through with the look.

and as you made a small thumbs up at mindy, who was laughing almost maniacally at just how cool you looked, you (for once) failed to notice the hungry way richie was staring at you, because maybe, just maybe, the frat party wouldn't be that bad.

but as you walked in next to tara, you immediately took back your previous belief. not that bad? were you crazy, stupid, or both?

you weren't sure which was worse; the smell of b.o or the fact that you had seen at least 5 people throw up ever since you first walked in. everyone was dressed in a wide variety of costumes except for the frat boys, who only gave it a minimum 15% of their all to their costumes. the bass of the music was the one thing you didn't mind, but what you did mind was whatever horrible spotify playlist they decided to play.

maybe you should've refused to go. but when have you ever made good decisions for yourself?

mindy rolled her eyes as she began dragging you along with her to the drinks table, her other hand holding anika's. there was a wide array of different drinks, from vodka to soju to a huge tub full of jungle juice that looked horribly concerning. "c'mon, y/n, it's not that bad."

"it's pretty bad," you stated blankly, watching as richie immediately left the group, eyes set on a girl dressed up at harry potter.

"take a shot with us and loosen up a 'lil!" tara said, already waving to a few people she knew. she was pretty well known, you realized, which wasn't that surprising.

"aha!" chad lifted up a bottle of teremana tequila proudly, a wild grin on his face as he began getting little shot glasses for everyone. "there's sharpies right there— make sure you write your name down!"

you wrote your name down on the side of the little plastic shot glass before passing it to ethan, who wrote his name with a smiley face at the end. "you said you suck at drinking, right?"

"yeah! i don't really go to parties— chad goes, but i like to stay home and like.. not.. party.." ethan replied over the loud music, managing a sheepish smile as he gave his sharpie to mindy.

"so why're you here then?" you asked as chad poured some of the tequila into your glass.

"i could ask you the same thing!" ethan said with a lopsided smile, eyes not even noticing how much tequila chad was pouring into his glass.

"i need to learn how to, uh, talk to people." you raised your cup to your nose and crinkled it slightly. you hadn't drank for a while, and you found yourself reaching for a chaser before you found yourself gagging at the taste. "you want one?" you asked ethan, already knowing you'd probably stick by his side for the majority of the night.

"sure!" ethan took the sprite you offered him, sending chad a quick smile, signaling that he was ready.

"cheers!" everyone yelled, raising their shot glasses together before raising it to their lips. your face scrunched at the strong taste of alcohol, but you swallowed it before sipping your chaser, feeling some of your friends (were they your friends too? you weren't sure) jump around you excitedly.

"i'm gonna go dance!" quinn yelled, squeezing ethan's shoulder reassuringly before going to the dance floor. "tara, you coming with?"

"of course!"

"let me come too," chad said quickly, sending ethan a quick, almost knowing wink, and with that, they were both gone, along with mindy and anika, who were already claiming the couch as their's.

you only stood awkwardly as people began to leave and socialize, the empty shot glass in your hand acting a visual representation as to how you felt at that moment; empty and smelling mildly of alcohol. you found yourself staring warily at the groups of people around you, hand clenching harder around the plastic cup.

"this is fun," ethan said awkwardly, standing next to you as you both stared at your friends on the dance floor. you looked at him with a raised brow, confusion evident on your face; he seemed like an extravert, so why wasn't he dancing?

"you're not dancing?"

"who's gonna keep you company?"

"i don't need company."

"well, you may not need it, but i can provide it regardless."

you stared at ethan, as though silently challenging him. he was stubborn and horribly charming, you had to give him that, and ethan seemed to know that fact and be proud of it. he seemed innocent, but there was something about the boy that made you realize that he was a lot more cunning that you thought. your lack of a response made the boy smile happily, almost triumphantly, as he nodded to the back of the house. "there's a backyard. you wanna go sit?"

the cold air hit your face, making you fill your lungs with the fresh air. "finally, air that doesn't smell of axe spray." you made your way to the edge of the porch, sitting down and feeling ethan follow after you. thankfully, the backyard was completely empty. there was a burning firepit nearby, which you were sure was a fire hazard, but you were no narc.

ethan removed his cardboard helmet, shaking his head to free his curls. "that was only a bit suffocating," he muttered, placing the helmet next to him before looking at you, his eyes widening when he already found you staring at him.

you had a bit of a staring problem. but ethan was far too nice to tell you.

"hi," he said, making you blink.

"hi." a weird silence passed by the both of you as you sat next to each other on the porch. "d'you mind if i smoke?" you asked ethan, not touching your pack just yet, but still staring intently at him for any signs of uncomfortability.

"if it's cigarettes," ethan said, breaking your strong eye contact to look down sheepishly at his lap. "cigarette smoke gives me a headache."

"understandable." you reached down to your small bag, pulling out a pre-roll and your lighter. of course, your lighter was an aesthetically pleasing zippo lighter (your prized possession). "do you smoke?" you asked him, not quite lighting it yet simply out of decency.

"i'm willing to try!" ethan said with slight eagerness, looking at the pre-roll between your fingers. "just not—"

"cigarettes, right." you managed a small smile, one that made ethan think that maybe he had the staring problem. "i can teach you, if you want."

"really?"

"sure." you moved to face him, ethan's face flushed by the tension he was feeling. his eyes were looking between your eyes and the pre-roll, your ringed fingers holding it delicately between your fingers as you held it up. "you watch me first, yeah?" you placed the pre-roll into your lips.

ethan nodded, lips slightly parted as you flicked your lighter open as though it was second nature, your thumb moving to spark the flame. the lighter lit up between the both of you, the fire warm as you brought the lighter up to meet the pre-roll. as the flame burned its end, the smell of weed and your perfume wafted through the air, almost intoxicating ethan as he stared at you.

you breathed in the smoke, shutting the lighter with one hand while the other took the pre-roll out of your lips. embarrassment bubbled in your stomach at the gaze ethan had as he stared at the smoke coming out of your lips, but like you usually did, you refused to show your emotions, only looking at him curiously.

you made sure not to blow the smoke in his face before handing him the burning pre-roll. "raise it to your lips," you murmured, already feeling yourself relax as ethan took the pre-roll between his fingers. he followed your instructions, swallowing hard as he looked at you.

you weren't oblivious to just how much tension was running between the both of you. it was almost suffocating as you watched his lips wrap around the pre-roll, right over the lipstick stain you left behind. "breathe in steadily."

ethan breathed in the smoke, eyes widening at the feeling before he quickly brought the pre-roll out of his lips, burying his face in his arm as he coughed roughly, the smoke coming out in white puffs of air. your small laugh made ethan say a small, "oh god, i'm sorry!" before he tried to compose himself again, embarrassment flushing his cheeks.

"it's okay," you said, the smile not falling from your face as you watched him amusedly. ethan tried to hide his need to cough, to no avail; he fell into another coughing fit again, making you hum as you took another hit. "that's it. you're gonna be okay."

"i heard coughing makes you feel higher," ethan mumbled, managing to look at you as he cleared his throat. half-lidded hazel eyes stared at you as you breathed out another clean air of smoke, your body much more relaxed than ever. and maybe it was the fact that he had never smoked before, but ethan was staring you with so much wonder, eyes almost shining under the dim light of the night.

"maybe. some people say it's a myth." you turned to him, lips curling up into a smirk when you caught him staring. "want ano—"

the sound of someone retching made the both of you jump and turn around, worry falling over ethan's face when he saw quinn, accompanied by mindy and anika, throwing up off the side of the porch. "quinn," ethan said, rushing over to his sister to rub her back, his other hand easily pulling her red hair away from her face.

"i think she should call it a night," anika said worriedly, rubbing her friend's back comfortingly.

you walked over, watching as quinn threw up more onto the backyard lawn. your hand went out to pat her back awkwardly, brows slightly furrowed as you watched her. "she drank too much too quickly."

"exactly." mindy looked at you with a slight frown. "you think you both can walk her home? i tried to find richie but he's basically nowhere, so.."

"yeah, of course." you took out a hair tie, murmuring a quiet, "i'm gonna tie your hair back, okay?" to quinn as you tied her hair back and away form her face. you already knew where the kirsches lived; you had a good memory.

"text me when you're home," mindy told you both, worry evident on her face. "ani and i need to watch over the other drunk idiots around here. make sure you get home safe."

you nodded as ethan fixed quinn against him, allowing her to use him as a crutch. he was mildly high, most likely due to the fact that he wasn't used to smoking, but his head was clear enough that he was easily steadying his sister in his arm.

"did you smoke?" quinn asked gorggily, making ethan groan as he nodded. she managed a lazy smirk at that. "nice."

"i'll text you," you said to mindy and anika, before helping ethan and steadying quinn on the other side of her body. "you ready?" you asked him, making him nod.

the walk back to their apartment was quick, as they lived near by the frat house. none of you said much other than quinn's slurred words of, "you look good tonight, y/n," and, "ethan, what even are you?" the repetitive quetion didn't even seem to bother ethan as he repeatedly answered, "i'm a knight, q."

ethan unlocked the door with one hand, pushing it open with his leg as he helped you bring quinn inside. messily kicking his shoes aside, ethan said, "we should bring her into her room." that made you nod as you kicked off your own shoes. he led the both of you to quinn's room pushing it open. ethan was careful as he brought his sister to her bed and laid her down.

you sighed as you pulled her comforter over her, making her send you a thankful smile, which you returned. pulling her trashcan out from under her desk, you left it next to her before letting ethan do the rest.

"i can take care of her," ethan said softly, carefully removing quinn's faux wings form her back to allow her to lay down comfortably. "you can like.. wait in my room if you want," he offered with a small smile, noticing your hesitancy in leaving him alone. "don't worry. i'm used to this."

what was that supposed to mean? but you said nothing, choosing to walk out of quinn's room and making your way to ethan's.

which brought up the question; which room was his room?

you blinked as you stared at the two doors down the hall, the last door open and revealing a bathroom. you glanced between the two shut doors, foggy mind barely thinking before you raised your finger and began pointing between the two. "eeny, meeny, miny, moe," you mumbled to yourself, going through the entire rhyme before choosing the door opposite of quinn's.

you walked forward and opened the door, revealing an ambiently lighted room with a few posters and a neatly made bed. everything was pretty organized— something you didn't really expect from ethan, but oh, well, who were you to judge? —and you only continued to observe as you sat on his grey bedsheets.

you observed his posters curiously, coming eye to eye with various horror characters like hannibal lecter, patrick bateman, freddie krueger, and carrier. those were the only designs up on his walls; no photos, no other movie genres, just horror and the villains.

you stood up to stare at one poster in particular, eyebrows furrowing and hazy mind focusing on the american psycho poster. but as you stood up, your sock clad foot, hit against something under his bed, making you frown and turn around, especially when you realized that your foot was wet.

raising the comforter a little bit to inspect further, you failed to notice the door creaking open, ethan's eyes widening when he found you. the light from the hallway bled into the dimly lit bedroom, casting an elongated light on the hardwood floor.

"oh, i probably should've told you where my room is," ethan said with a small laugh, "this is richie's room." his smile faltered when he noticed that you weren't even paying attention, your eyes focused on whatever was under the bed. "y/n?"

"ethan," you breathed, flicking the comforter onto the bed as you stared wide-eyed at what had made your sock sopping wet. and as you stepped back, your heel meeting the long light coming through the door, ethan saw red staining your white socks.

ethan swallowed heavily as he walked up next to you, eyes looking down at what you were staring at. and the mere sight of it made him want to throw up.

it was oozing blood from the ziplock, the crimson as red as wine as it steadily poured out of the plastic, creating a puddle. the edges of it were slightly smeared due to your foot hitting a part of it.

but the sheer amount of blood that was inside the open ziplock wasn't what you were staring at; it was the decapitated pair of hands that were inside.

pale and messily cut at the wrists, one of the hands had slipped out and opened the ziplock further after you hit it with your foot. what looked like mashed flesh, meat, and skin was still hanging onto where the hand was cut, the ground mixture barely shining under the lack of light.

but you had seen a similar sight like that before. right on the back of your father's head, caused by your own hand.

you could barely make out the perfectly manicured nails within the dimly lit room, along with the fact that the hands had no fingerprints. they had been flayed off of the skin one by one— messily, from what you saw, as the edges of the cut off fingertips were serrated as though he was in a hurry, revealing deep red meat underneath.

he was an amateur, that much was obvious. but he had done this before— he knew the protocols.

"ethan, what the fuck."

ACT II, ACT III

#AUTHORSNOTE— new ethan series after i finished the last one! are we surprised? no. feel free to ask to be on the taglist !

[fillinforlater]

random Twice member smut (not naming Sana, Nayeon, and Jeongyeon)

Phone: Energy Restored

Male Reader x Yoo Jeongyeon

Length: 1325 words

Tags: cuddles, kisses, mutual masturbation, handjob, fingerfucking, lazy

TW: QUICKIE; UNEDITED

(A/N: I HAVE RETURNED... with only a quickie... but greater things are to come, trust!)

>@you, I heard that our Angel attacked you. If you want to restore some energy, come to my house (Sooya St. 37) any day you like, after 5pm xoxo< Send by Ostrich.

37 hours of sleep. That is how much you needed after Minju, Tzuyu and Yiren left your home. And even after resting your mind, body and, most importantly, your dick, you still feel like an engine running on only a couple droplets of gas.

Despite your lack of energy, you found yourself on yet another bus riding to the northern part of Smite City, just as the clock on your life-changing flip phone shows 5:20pm.

Sooya Street was well known for all it's cute, small houses and as you fond over how funny they look with their emerald-green rooftiles, yellow fences and red doors, you almost miss your stop.

The appearance of tiny snowflakes in the grey January sky make you hurry. Hurry to house number 37. Hurry to a cozy couch. Hurry to whoever Ostrich is.

Before you can even press the doorbell of your destination, the red door parts slowly and you hear a soothing voice from the other end:

"Come on in, my friend! It's cold outside."

Although this is kinda strange, you don't hesitate to walk into the miniscule building. And after scanning the living room, your initial assumptions are proven to be correct: every piece of furniture, from the carpet and couch to the table and TV, everything fits the look and size of the entire house.

The explosion of colors and cuteness distracts you from the actual reason why you came here, but she quickly reminds you, what you replied to her request:

"I'll make sure it's cuddly and fun for you."

You jump. Behind you, a kindly smiling woman, with wavy brown-blonde hair stands, her hands playing with the hem of her knitted oversized pullover. It might be everything she has to cover her tall body, as her smooth legs are fully on display for your eyes to ogle at.

"Do you still want to do that?"

In awe, you just nod at her. Next thing you know, she grabs your wrist and the two of you lay next to each other on the way-too-short couch, which can barely keep the two of you on it's comfortable surface. It forces you to stay close to her and instinctively, you wrap your arms around her frame and feel the warm cotton of her beige garment.

"My name is Jeongyeon. I'm glad to finally meet you."

"Hey Jeongyeon! Nice to meet and feel you too...but how did you know of me?"

Jeongyeon brushes some of her beautiful hair away from her face to show you her puzzled look on it.

"How could I not? You were very active this week in our chat. And Angel attacked you, so here I am, ready to get some power back."

"Power?" you chuckle "I'm not a battery that needs refilling. I'm just a tired guy who wants to cuddle."

Jeongyeon put her hands on the back of your head and on your hip respectively and pulls you even closer. Her breasts press onto you, perky mounds with hard nipples. She is definitely not wearing a bra.

"Cuddles... like this?" Jeongyeon whisper in your hear and you hum as a reply. With only lazy, tiny movements you two exchange intimacy, heat and maybe even energy, but you quickly realize that you want to make this more enjoyable for her.

"Jeongyeon, lemme show you what I meant by 'fun for you'."

Your fingers slowly glide down to wear the cotton ends and silky skin starts. It is even softer than you imagined and with utmost care, you rub along her thighs and over her tummy.

Jeongyeon's moans are very quiet, but you easily pick them up next to your ear. Add in her rapid breaths and you can basically feel her melt under just your fingers.

With all your will power you ignore your own throbbing erection in your pants and focus on caressing every inch of Jeongyeon's thighs before moving to her plum ass and breasts.

"Oh, yes..."

Stimulate her on her stiff nipples, near her puckered hole, all over her sensitive spots and you see Jeongyeon mewl and drool. It makes you smile. You could go on like this forever that's how much joy her flawless skin brings you, but you decide to finish her off.

One palm to push open her legs further—no panties to cover her slightly hairy pussy—two fingers to thrust into her wet hole cause three breathless seconds. Then it’s the peak for Jeongyeon: orgasmic flows of juice stream out of her hole, onto your hand and all over her thighs.

“Ahh~ Th-Thank you...”

Jeongyeon places a wet kiss on your lips and rubs her trembling fingers all over your beet red cheeks. You both lightly giggle, but her giggles turn to moans when you unexpectedly continue the play with your fingers. Twist, curls and gradual thrust make Jeongyeon’s eyes glassy and the way she bites her lips makes your heart race.

“Hm, fuck! B-But it’s y-your turn.”

“We can do it at the same time. Your hands are so soft, Jeongyeon... I want them on me.”

“You, fuck, you can c-call me b-baby today.”

“Okay, baby. Please, stroke me. Let’s feel good together.”

She opens your belt, you yank down your pants. She licks on her hands, you kiss on her jaw. She starts to stroke your length, you put a third finger in her cavern. Give and receive, and your sexual desires will be taken care off.

Delicate fingers. The most delicate you have ever felt on your cock and the way Jeongyeon puts just the right amount of pressure on it adds as much to the experience as her pace does. 

In comparison, your fucking of her pussy is uncontrolled, sloppy and downright messy. Excess juice drops down to floor and couch, unrecognizable forms written on her clit to stimulate it and a random pace of in and out. 

It does not seem to matter: Jeongyeon gets off. You get off. And you both get pretty close at the same time. The only indicators of two nearing orgasms are heavier breaths, hanging tongues and trembling bodies. Obvious, but no one speaks until you two burst.

Jeongyeon jerks spurt after spurt of your creamy, white seed out of you and onto her. Meanwhile her pretty face contorts at the second orgasm which makes her feet spasms and then force your hand to remain trapped in between her pale thighs. A jail you are willing to stay in if it means getting a handjob of such quality. 

“Th-That was a-amazing...”

“Your fingers were... great as well.”

“I’m glad than baby.”

Like it is the most natural and beautiful thing in the world, your two bodies start to entangle each other in a tight hug. The cum you just unloaded onto her is now returned unceremoniously by your closeness, but you couldn’t care less. After all, Jeongyeon doesn’t mind her own cum in her hair when you stroke it with the digits that were just inside her.

“Was my attempt at giving you energy successful?” Jeongyeon asks, avoiding your eyes, abashed by maybe having failed.

“It was more than successful, baby. I feel like I can conquer the world.”

Jeongyeon smiles brightly. The sun would be embarrassed by how much this woman shines, but it’s still snowing outside. Luckily, there is an amazing body keeping you warm.

“Oh really? Show me! I bet you can’t even conquer this city.”

“But what if my world is you?”

“Ew, cheesy as fuck. Get out.”

“Sure, just let me cuddle a little longer with you, baby.”

“Cuddle or...?”

“Only cuddle.”

A pat on your head. You burry your face in her chest. Some things should just never come to an end. Cuddles and kisses for example.

[puppersfluid8xd]

”desperately need a fiber arts au now”

Omgosh yessssss

I’d like to imagine that ryuzaki/L knits (either A. Watari taught him a while ago, or B. He watched watari and picked up on it, or both)

Whenever he rlly can’t sleep, like after tea and melatonin and complete quiet and counting sheep and etc etc, he just does a simple knitting pattern and turns his brain off. It may kill his hands in the morning but it’ll help his brain rest even if it’s not sleep (me w crochet fr T^T)

Often during the yotsuba arc light can hear the sounds of his needles clinking and scissors snipping for hours and he’s managed to be able to sleep through it atp (even if light is a light sleeper)

But when ryuzaki/L is particularly stressed he’ll get rlly frantic abt it. Counting the stitches and rows endlessly, worrying abt the color combo, “did I sew that right?” “That looks like the wrong weight of yarn” “is the sizing right?” And by the time we get to episode 24-25 lights gotten used to waking up to at least 2-3 new knitted projects L has made over the night

He especially hates undoing n redoing rows or scrapping projects, he’ll sigh and groan every time and it seems to physically pain him and it does (again me too)

It keeps him busy on slow work days, or when he’s on “dates” w light and misa.

Misa loves his knitting skills and is more than happy to wear anything he makes for her, Light however is not as happy abt it. Ryuzaki/L will always do things that he secretly finds oddly charming or sweet but light finds it cheesy, matching sweaters, extra details like how light prefers to have tags on everything so he doesn’t forget the wash instructions or a specific fit on different parts of his body, his favorite colors n stuff that goes w his hair eyes or skin tone, and ofc a Kira sweater or sumthn abt his pride or ego or maybe a few.

Ryuzaki/L absolutely never wears what he makes, ever. He doesn’t like any sort of yarn texture, wool, acrylic, cotton, doesn’t matter, it never feels good on him, occasionally tho for special occasions like holidays he’ll wear a sweater or sweater vest he’s made over a tshirt or button down

L/ryuzaki would never admit it but he truly does love giving his projects away, it makes him feel needed and useful, he appreciates the extra thanks too, his favorite ppl to gift is misa or matsuda since they get so excited every time.

I think near however probably crochets but id say he started around after he turned 16-17. His specialty tho is blankets and pillows and stuffed animals, he makes clothes too, but he prefers the other stuff. He likes to stick to his neutrals, blacks greys browns whites, but if he’s feeling particularly extra he’ll do rlly faint pastel colors. U can see at least one crochet blanket in most of his spaces, his office, his room, his living room, wherever he wants. And he has a shelf in his room for all his special crochet amigurumi or stuffed animals (I think a lot of them r probably Pokémon or digimon and they r absolutely the only vibrant colored things in his room)

Near prefers to keep a good chunk of it for himself, but he luvsssssss giving it away to kids. His friends’ kids or nieces and nephews, whenever he’s invited to a bday party and he’s actually interested in going he’ll make a gift for the adults and also their kids or young ones (and eventually when Matt and mello get around to 35ish and decide they want to adopt, near will not stop crocheting stuff for the lil one. I mean everything from clothes to blankets to stuffies to decorations for the lil guys room, once a week for abt a month before they adopt Near will come over w a bag or box of stuff and help Matt and mello set up the nursery. But that’s just my au)

He also rlly likes crocheting practical stuff, like bins or things for the kitchen or nets to hold wtv u get the point.

Near prefers to do it when reading or watching tv, but if he wants to go to hang out sumwhere (which is rare) his friends (which r usually his coworkers) won’t be surprised to see Near bring a tote bag w his project in it when he goes

And he never rlly got to knit or crochet w ryuzaki/L but he definitely luved watching him and would sit by his feet or yarn balls and make sure they don’t get tangled or knotted.

anyways I’m not sure how much this relates to ur tags n reblog/how much of his goes w what u were thinking but this is just what popped up in my head! have a gud day byeee ! <3

I throughly believe that if you gave L or near a bundle of tangled wires, yarn, or string, they’d hyper focus on it and enjoy it for hours. And I don’t blame them bc me 2