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gimme-a-man-after-midnight · 1 year ago

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my royal roomie (part 2)

Fandom: Aquaman

Pairing: Orm Marius x Reader

part 1:

https://www.tumblr.com/gimme-a-man-after-midnight/693273500438429696/my-royal-roomie-pt-1?source=share

Summary: After a few days of living under your roof, Orm gets to know the little surface dweller he's been stuck with. With time, a stormy night, and a bottle of wine, the prince learns that he has more in common with you than he may think.

Word Count: 4,000+

Warnings: female reader, slow burn, light cursing, mentions of past emotional abuse, divorced parents!reader, dead parent, comic lore inaccuracies, floral inaccuracies??

Author's Note:

hi y'all! here's the full part 2 i've been working on for some time! thanks for the support on the last one and again, so sorry for the late continuation :/ i hope this story is to your liking! happy reading!

After the first one-on-one conversation you had in the living room, Orm didn't come out of the guest bedroom for days. You’d see flashes of platinum blonde out of the corner of your eye, just barely missing him by a few seconds whenever you’d be in the kitchen or outside of his door. You had made many offers through the red painted oak of his room to go grocery shopping together or take him on a tour of the town, but all of your efforts were met with a stern "No thank you." You had lost any hope you had of forming some kind of connection with the Atlantean for a while, cutting your losses by quietly resigning to a parallel existence. What you didn’t expect was the mutual understanding you two would come to on one fateful stormy Friday night, much like the one that brought him to your doorstep.

***

Heavy traffic from the drive home, a full message inbox on your telephone, and the burnt attempt at roast chicken sitting on your oven rack had you nursing a glass bottle of wine by the living room window. Bad days were normal for anybody, but it didn’t make them easier to deal with on your own - the added stress of the stranger living in your space didn’t help either. You had been living a quiet life ever since you moved back to the sleepy town some years ago, taking up very little space and leaving minimal traces of yourself. Whether it was out of caution or cowardice, you weren’t sure yet. Either way, that silence had brought you comfort at a time where your thoughts were too loud, but now with another person occupying your space the quiet was becoming suffocating.

Orm wasn’t by any means a bad roommate - he kept to himself, he didn’t make much noise, and he even managed to wash his dishes whenever he knew you weren’t in the kitchen - but he was a man.The last time you had lived with a man, the end of its course felt similar to how you two were living now, and maybe that’s why it was bothering you so much. Tip-toeing around the Atlantean made you feel uneasy in your own home, a situation you were all too familiar with. Typically at this time in the night you would be cooking up some plan to urge the man out of his guest room, but after the day you had, you didn’t have the heart to try.

Once you took your final gulp of wine, wiping at the sides of your mouth with the back of your hand, you trudged away from the raging display outside of your window. The dishes could be a tomorrow problem, you thought to yourself as you were leaving your kitchen counter behind. You had only made it a few paces out of the living room before your body was overcome with chills, making you draw your blanket tighter around you. The draft through the house was unmistakable, confusing you thoroughly due to you always making sure the doors and windows were shut before bed. As you stepped deeper into the house, you realized the distinct breeze was coming from the direction of the guest bedroom. You had made it a point to allow Orm his space, but your brain was stirring with reasons for what he could possibly be doing in there - most of them unsavory.

With a deep breath and a tight fist holding your blanket, you gently rapped at the door.

“Hey, Orm?”

No response. You knock again.

“I don’t mean to bother, but I’m feeling a bit of a breeze through the house and I can tell it’s coming from here, so I just want to see if everything is alri-”

The door suddenly opened a crack, revealing half of Orm’s face which was already more than you had seen in days.

“If you don’t mean to bother, then don’t.”

The curt response, although expected, has you taken aback. Already seeing the Atlantean retreat from the spot again, you hold the door in its place in effort to keep his attention.

“Look, I know you wanna be alone, but I can’t help wondering why a cold ass breeze is coming from your room, so I just want to see what’s going on. Please, it’s freezing right now.” You do your best to keep control of your tone, not wanting to let on just how much the cold was getting to you - giving the prince another reason to look down on humans wasn’t on your agenda for the night.

Almost as if he commanded the storm, the lightning cracked loudly outside as Orm swung his door open, revealing his full disheveled state to you. You jolted in place, practically leaping a step back in defense at the swift move.

“What’s going on is the stench of your burnt dinner was practically singeing my nostrils. I opened a window in hopes that I could find some relief, because clearly you surface dwellers have no trouble polluting not only the ocean, but your precious breathing air as well! I have little care for how cold your fragile body may get, so I suggest you retire to your room at once and leave me be.”

There was a gap in the yelling match conversation, almost as if the blond was waiting for you to bite back at his harsh words, but the glazed look in your eyes and parted lips made it evident to the Atlantean that your mind was elsewhere. Orm followed your gaze, noticing that it was locked onto the maroon sweater he was adorning, looking at it with equal parts surprise and melancholy. His enhanced hearing picked up on a hitch in your breath and chattering of your teeth, confirming to him that you were clearly shaken.

After the long silence, you mousily spoke.

“I didn’t leave that sweater out for you.”

The arbitrary words silenced Orm, his expression turning to one of confusion as he looked down at the knit fabric on his chest.

“...where did you find it?”

Your voice didn’t change in volume when you made your inquiry, but your tone was somber. The candid emotion made the Atlantean clear his throat awkwardly, unsure of how to handle such vulnerability from his host. You couldn’t even fully appreciate how much messier Orm looked in comparison to when he first arrived - looking like a 90s wet dream with his ungelled hair, clenched jaw, and broad shoulders peeking out of his loose fitting clothes. No, it was the clothes that were holding your attention hostage.

“It was deep in the wooden wardrobe of my room…the garb you set out for me wasn’t suitable for the storm,” Orm says, arms crossed in a defensive manner as he anticipates your response.

A part of you wanted to laugh at his retort, the corner of your lips quirking up for a millisecond before melting back into the numb expression you had prior.

“Are you going to ask me to change? Because I don’t see why I should relent,” the blond goads, pulling a haughty expression that comes all too naturally.

Orm wasn’t sure himself why he wanted to urge a response from you - why he wanted to learn more about this sweater that was clearly jumbling up your thoughts enough to render you so silent. He tried to chalk it up to plain boredom, tried to reason with himself that all his time in self-isolation was making him yearn for more. Still, even with those excuses lined up to justify his actions, he couldn’t explain why seeing the down-turned expression on your lips felt so unnerving. This woman in front of him now was like a shell in comparison to the buoyant, eccentric character he had been previously introduced to - and for some bizarre reason he didn’t like it.

Your thought process, on the other hand, was going in a completely different route. The glaringly red knit in your line of sight brought back too many memories that you had made efforts to bury. The cursed sweater in combination with the Atlantean prince’s snark makes your breath quicken and your mind wander to the whisper of a past life that still takes up space in your home. You couldn’t decipher if your shivering was coming from Orm’s open window or from your body trying to eject all of the feelings evoked from seeing that damn sweater.

“I-I…you…you shouldn’t-” you shakily exhale, your eyes surveying around your surroundings to try and focus on literally anything else. You backstep, hoping that physically running away from the situation will do you good, but your eyes lining up with the red-clad chest and the sound of the booming thunder makes you falter. Your hand clutches at your chest, the white knuckled grip on your blanket alerting your roommate.

The prince's body calls to action, making Orm take an instinctive step forward, reaching out as if to try and steady you.

“What is happening with you? Why are you so high-strung? Do humans go into cardiac arrest so easily?”

You couldn’t hear his stern questioning, your mind flitting to images of firm fists slammed against tables and nights spent alone, buried deep under your covers in the hopes of being swallowed by the sheets. It was like the space in your lungs was being taken up by a vice grip, and your ability to think - to form a simple thought that didn’t make your heart hurt - was completely ripped away from you. Even after four years, the memories of him still have so much power over you in a way that’s paralyzing.

“I-I just - I need - I need to breathe!”

With that final exclamation, you scurried away from the Atlantean, quickly making it back to your room before slamming the door shut behind you. Orm was left stunned outside of his door, his eyes trained in the direction of your room down the hall.

What the hell just happened?

***

Arthur was done - so done.

The newly crowned Atlantean king had so much on his plate already, what with his upcoming engagement underway and him having an entire kingdom to look after. While he did appreciate his little brother feeling comfortable enough to call him at such an ungodly hour, the words the blond uttered made him want to pull his hair out.

“I think I broke her - your human.”

“Bro, what?”

It was too fucking early for this.

“Don’t call me - agh, nevermind - something’s wrong with your human and I’m not sure how to approach the situation. Is this really an environment you believe me to find enrichment from? My host is clearly on the brink of some sort of breakdown and I-”

“Wow, I never took you for someone that was so easily shaken, brother.”

Arthur’s poorly timed quip makes Orm stare back at the projection call with a blank face.

“First off, she’s not my human, she’s her own person. Second, what did you even do? She’s not one to just collapse on her own - although she is a serial overthinker and could definitely talk herself to an early grave...”

Orm, frustrated with his half-brother’s lack of support, rolls his eyes over the call.

“Okay, okay, but seriously. Something must’ve set her off or triggered her to react in a way. You sure you didn’t do anything?”

“All I did was answer the door when she knocked. When she saw me at the entrance, she saw the sweater I was wearing and was overcome with emotion. That’s hardly my fault.”

Orm can see Arthur’s brows furrow in thought at the information, almost as if he’s assessing whether he’s been given the whole story or not.

“Well…where’d you get the sweater?”

“I hardly think that matters-”

“Just answer the question, bro-”

An exasperated grunt leaves Orm as he grips at the sheets beneath him in an attempt to contain himself. A part of him regretted bringing up the matter at all, communication with his half-brother being much too awkward to bear.

“I got it from the wooden wardrobe inside of my chambers! It was much more practical to wear than the flimsy garb-”

“Shit,” Arthur cuts him off, the hologram shifting as the man rubs at his eyes. “The wooden wardrobe with vines on the sides?”

It was Orm’s turn to be taken aback, unsure of how he knew the detail from off the top of his head.

“Yes, that’s the one.”

A muffled sigh comes from Arthur’s end, the image changing again as the king shuffles out of bed quietly to not disturb a sleeping Mera.

“Listen, dude. It’s not my place to speak on her business like this, but all I can say is that the wardrobe - that room - holds a lot of memories that are painful for her. I know you didn’t mean to bring them up, but that wardrobe is off limits. Just try and apologize for now, but don’t pry.”

“But why should I-”

“Orm, seriously! I get it, you don’t like being there - that you’ve spent every day in your room ever since I dropped you off, but she’s been trying. She’s been doing everything she can to get you out of your shell and you’re not giving back anything. There has to be some give here, and that can start with you saying sorry.”

Orm was surprised by the fact that Arthur knew of his daily whereabouts already, undoubtedly asking you for updates on him. However, what surprised him the most was that even though you have seemingly complained to his half brother, you never once suggested kicking him out - never demanded he leave your house and have Atlantis deal with him. You truly were a peculiar little thing.

“...fine. But don’t expect me to continue such niceties with her.”

A belly laugh could be heard from over the call, surely out of amusement for the prince's unwavering coldness.

“Good. Now hang up, you disrupted my beauty sleep.”

With a scoff, Orm presses on the green gem of his wristlet and heads off to the direction of your room.

***

When Orm knocks on your door, he expects a big fuss - bouts of yelling, arguing, or cursing that’ll leave his highly sensitive ears ringing. What he doesn’t expect is everyone of his knocks being met with silence - deafening silence now that the storm has subsided.

“Hello?”

The prince feels weirdly small waiting by your door for your answer, having no clue what he’ll be met with on the other side of him. (It also gives him some insight on how you must feel every time you knock on his door to chat, although he’d never admit to having similarities with you,)

“Are you ignoring me?”

More silence.

“Oh, enough of this childishness.”

With a deep breath in, Orm turns the knob of your door and lets himself into your room. He’s met with colorful tapestries embellishing the walls, big rugs covering the hardwood floor, and twinkling lights surrounding the bed frame. The scene that you set for yourself in your room makes Orm think about his home - the way that the colorful bioluminescence would sparkle throughout his kingdom.

When the initial first impression of your room wears off, he notices there is no one in the bed. No squirming presence under the sheets or anyone sitting on top of the bed to give him a stern talking to. Where did you go?

The blond takes a tentative step inside, stepping over the fuzzy carpets to keep from disturbing their arrangement. When he walks past the bed frame and closer to the window, he sees a lump of a human wearing a large blanket over their shoulders and some type of bulky headgear that covers your ears and emits sound. You were completely enthralled by the scene outside of the window that you hardly notice Orm stepping up next to you.

A sudden hand on your shoulder has you jolting upward with a yelp, your hand instinctively slapping away at the intruder before you turn to look at where they came from.

“Jesus fucking christ!”

Orm gets into his own defensive position as you scramble to press your back against the wall, looking at you as if you were a trembling animal.

“My god, woman!”

“What are you doing in here you scared me half to-”

“I knocked but there was no answer so I-”

“Oh, so you decided to just welcome yourself in?”

Orm purses his lips in frustration, not thrilled at being met with the uproar he had originally expected. You sigh to yourself in disbelief, willing yourself to be quiet since there would be no productive conversation if you two kept yelling at each other.

“Next time just take the hint that I’m busy if I don’t answer, okay? You can’t just barge in here when you want, it’s not cool…”

The Atlantean has some sense to feel a shred of shame when you speak, although your words are hardly convincing when your eyes don’t turn in his direction for even a second. You look so timid standing there in your corner with the blanket consuming you completely - not at all like the spitfire that called him an “asshole” and warned him not to “test her.” (He secretly felt some relief in your loud exchange mere moments ago, because it meant that version of you was still there.)

“I…I apologize for intruding.”

Your head whips up to finally meet the man’s piercing blues, your mouth left slightly agape at an actual apology leaving the arrogant Atlantean’s lips.

“Uh…it’s okay...although, try not to do it again.”

Another moment of awkward silence passes.

“So…why’d you come in here?”

You ask this question as you take a seat back on the floor, resuming your position of staring out of the window only this time without your headphones. You pat the spot next to you on the floor, urging Orm to sit next to you. With a small eye roll, the blond begrudgingly joins you on your multi-colored carpet, opting to rest his arms against his knees as means to shield himself from you.

“I came here to apologize, not just for barging in, but for what happened earlier. I shouldn’t have gone through the wardrobe without your permission even if I needed different clothes. I should’ve asked you instead of rifling through your belongings on my own accord.”

His apology, although rehearsed, seems genuine enough for your shoulders to relax. Your eyes follow the droplets of rain slowly trickling down the glass of your window, racking your brain for the right thing to say.

“It’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong, I just…I haven’t revisited the memories that room brings in a long time. You putting on that sweater unearthed them today, and it got me bad. See, I was having a shit day already what with keeping up with the shop, and then an accident causing traffic on the way home, and the wine that I usually like being out of stock-”

Your rambling gets cut off by a soft chuckle coming from the man next to you, a sound that seems so uncharacteristically happy for his usual demeanor. The corners of your mouth perk up in disbelief, the expression making Orm quickly look away from you.

“Huh. So that’s what your laugh sounds like. It’s nice…”

Orm didn’t understand why he reacted in such a way, you weren’t saying anything particularly funny…

…It’s just the way your eyes became so animated as you spoke more, your hands gesturing stronger as you explained further - it was amusing to him. So different from the usual company he keeps, always firmly placed brows and crossed arms from the high council members he consulted. Even the Atlantean women, although much more pleasant company, were more regal in comparison to his surface dweller host. However, what you did have in common with those women was your tenacity. Even with his cold attitude towards you, your kindness was unwavering - a few times a day, without fail, you’d knock on his door with the promise of food and semi-entertaining company. He’s starting to regret only agreeing to the food.

God, he must be going stir crazy.

“What is it about the sweater that made you react in such a way?”

This was when you noticed that Orm was no longer wearing the offending material, choosing to wear the simping cotton T shirt you had given him. It may have been nothing - a simple delusion on your part - but the weight on your chest felt lighter at the idea that the Atlantean took it off to bring you comfort.

“It - uh,” you stuttered, “it belonged to my ex-boyfriend. All of the stuff in that wardrobe did, actually. We painted the vines on the side of it together…”

Orm’s arms flexed tighter around his knees at your words. He didn’t know how to respond, feeling significantly awkward due to adorning your ex lover’s clothing, so he decided to just shut up and let you continue.

“When I was 14 my parents got divorced. My mom wanted so badly to make it work, but my dad didn’t like his life here in Amnesty Bay - a part of me felt like he also didn’t like his life with us in general. I mean, he never had a problem making his grievances known, so…”

Now, this was something the blond was familiar with - uncomfortable family dynamics. The realities of his parents’ marriage were never shielded from him growing up - he often witnessed the brutality of his father whenever his mother, Atlanna, would make her opposing opinions known. He often felt conflicted about which side to take - the one of least resistance that prioritized the well-being of his people or the one that looked out for the well-being of everyone, Atlanteans and surface dwellers alike. Hearing you now, speak your piece on your own upbringing, comforted him in a way he didn’t expect.

“The divorce was messy. Lots of nights spent being pulled in every direction, but with no real place to find peace. After everything settled, my dad ended up moving to New York while my mom remained here. They agreed that for the school year I’d stay with my mom, so she’d have some help at the flower shop, but I’d visit him on major holidays…”

The blanket around you suddenly feels too thin, a chill running over you as you recount your tale. You take a sneaky glance over your shoulder to check if the blond was still listening, and you were surprised (and delighted) to find that his steadfast gaze was at the side of your face.

“...At some point during my years at university, my mom stopped asking me to visit - demanded that I only live with my dad when I was out of school. You can imagine Arthur had his qualms about that…”

You chuckled to yourself at the memory of a young Arthur blowing up your home phone upon hearing the news.

“It would only be for the same visiting time as before, so there wasn’t much fuss on my dad’s end, but my relationship with him had become so different after the divorce that it wasn’t ideal. It…It hurt to hear my mom reject me like that.”

Orm’s mind flashes back to the rain soaked figure of his mother, presenting herself to be siding with his half-brother after his defeat. The sting of her counteraction still lingers in his chest.

“When I had started dating my ex during my third year, I found out the reason my mom was keeping me from home - she got sick…cancer. All of the overworking to pay the bills, lack of support, and the hereditary traits…she got really sick. I guess she didn’t want me to see her in so much pain…”

Orm watches as you turn away to stubbornly wipe at your face, a sniffle coming from your direction. He hadn’t expected you to willingly speak on your background when he asked about the sweater, but a part of him felt guilty for being the cause of your current distress.

“When she died, I moved back here to look after the house and take over the shop…but my ex had moved in with me. Darren.”

More tears fell from your cheeks at the same speed as the rain running down your window.

“Darren offered to help me with the business, help me get on my feet. A part of me knew that he was going to hate the life we were starting together based on talks we had about the future, but I ignored it all when my grief became the only thing I felt for a long time. He always wanted more - more than our little town, more than the flower shop…so when an opportunity presented itself to have a life on his own, he took it. Just like my dad did…”

Orm’s heart drops at the end of your retelling, knowing the feeling of rejection and abandonment all too well. His father would be rolling in his grave if he knew what feelings this little surface dweller was stirring in him. The gap between the Atlanteans and the humans was closing in his mind, and Orm wasn’t sure if he cared to stop it. All he wanted at this moment was to stop you from crying.

“I’m sorry for putting on the sweater…and for being an ungracious guest these past few days. I’ve been a real dick.”

You can’t help but guffaw at his choice of words, using your fist to mask the unsightly sound as a cough.

“That’s not a very princely thing to say…”

Orm’s head tilts back as he snickers, feeling slightly proud of himself for inciting a better mood in you.

Ah, that laugh again, you think as you admire how ethereal the man looks in his relaxed state.

“Perhaps my brother is to blame for my much more…colorful vernacular.”

“Perhaps,” you hum in agreement, “or you’re just not as much of a dick as I previously thought…sorry for coming on so strong that first day.”

Orm’s blue eyes shine at you with something unfamiliar - different to the cold, distant stare you were first met with. You find yourself wishing to always be at the receiving end of his kind eyes.

Orm clears his throat before uttering, “No need to be…I was the one that misjudged you before ever seeing you.”

A silence falls over you two, a comforting one built between new comrades. Your (e/c) gaze meets his as the storm calms outside of your window, signaling the start of a new chapter for you and your royal roommate.

#orm marius x reader #orm marius x you #orm marius #orm x reader #aquaman imagine #orm marius imagine #orm marius fanfiction #aquaman fanfiction #arthur curry #dceu

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sheeezu · 16 days ago

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you asked for free labor and i OBLIGE! there’s nothing more i love than hearing people talk about their drs: anything simple from morning routine, to life altering moment, to happiest moment, literally anything you’d like 🎀 lol i’m a sucker for a good story

Oof I completely missed your ask.

Anyways I'm happy to share :)

I'm not sure what I could possibly share in my morning routine, it's the same as any other person's DR. Wake up, get a kiss from my SO, eat breakfast which has always been porridge, i find it more convenient, then I change into my work uniform (yes, I wear a uniform to work) and then go to work.

I think it's just better to just do a random storytime, I have a very mushy brain at the current moment so my mind is replaying a single memory so-

I was in college and my best friend (who's my SO now) forced me to go a concert with him, it was a pretty big celebrity in my reality, and so I knew there was going to be a crowd.

I was too hesitant because I didn't even know a single song from that artist, second, I didn't want to be pushed around, and the main reason was I had dinner with my dad (Btw I love him, best dad ever)

So after adjusting my schedule, I arrived at the concert with my soon-to-be SO.

All I did during the concert was stand stone faced in the middle of the crowd, we were standing pretty close to the stage. Long story short I ended up being pushed by this very eager fangirl into the stage, and ended up getting a small cut on my wrist from the edge of the stage.

I left to hopefully locate a restroom, it was a very local concert literally held at our college. So I entered the washroom and stopped my bleeding cut. After a while I thought there was no better place to find peace away from the crowd than in the restroom, meaning I got distracted and took out my phone and read world affairs for a good 20 minutes.

After a while some guy comes in, so I put the phone back and faced him, he was the singer who was performing, at this point in my life this had been my first time being this close to a celebrity, but did it mean much to me? no.

What I was more confused about what this 2 year post graduate celebrity guy just walked into the college restroom which students use, without a care of security risks.

I asked him what he was doing here, he told me that "What? Even famous people have to go."

I realised this was getting awkward, so I reworded my question, telling him that this is the restroom students use, I tried to prove my point I pointed towards an area of the wall where random swear words and suggestive drawings were made with a sharpie, only to find they had been covered with some sort of weird medical tape.

I cleared my throat, before he tells me that this is the VIP restroom he had been escorted to.

Sure enough, outside there was a paper stuck to the door and a big VIP was written on it.

Basically they converted the restroom on the campus into a VIP restroom only for one day.

And I managed to sneak in, idk there was no one guarding the restroom so that makes it even more funny.

He asked me if i wanted an autograph to which my politics clouded mind responded with a big fat blunt no.

But then I remembered it would give me some brownie points if I bring back an autograph to the guy I was trying to win over, who, at that time was a pretty decent fan of this celebrity (also, there is nothing special to this celebrity just because I haven't mentioned his name, his name was Jimmy, and he looked like jimmy Nuetron) so after a while I told him that, I, infant would like an autograph.

I had nothing on which I could get a signature on, in my pocket was just one blood socked tissue paper.

And so I got it signed.

...

I got out and like a psychopath handed over the bloody signed tissue to my soon to be SO who was more worried since he thought I got lost somewhere, since the concert ended a while ago.

...

He still has that tissue paper. It's has a sentimental value in our relationship.

#reality shifting #shiftblr #shifting #shifting antis dni #shifting blog #shifting motivation #shifters #shifting community #desired reality #shifting stories #shifting reality #shifting storytime

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littlemissmentallyunstable · 5 months ago

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title: we’re oranges and apples now

paring: grayson hawthorne x reader

synopsis: you and grayson broke up years and years ago after a long and happy relationship but one day you meet again in the future and the memories come flooding back…

parts: we’re apples and oranges now (your pov)

warnings:

a/n: this is we’re apples and oranges now but reversed in Grayson’s POV, you’ll notice this mirrors the other fic quite a bit, this is intentional!!

tag list: @tornqdowarnings @whatsamongus @wish-i-were-heather @inmyheaddd @never-enough-novels @peterlcsingwendy @lxvebelle @xoxo-vee @emelia07 @f4iry-bell @zoyaaaabear @thoughtdaughter3 @benny1989fredd @elysianwayy77

Grayson’s POV

I was wandering around the shops cluelessly. Cluelessly is never a word I thought I’d describe myself with. Grayson Hawthorne was not a clueless man but nowadays I seemed to becoming less and less like Grayson Hawthorne than ever. I check the list of items I’d been asked to purchase and gather most of the things I need. I find myself in the fruit aisle, picking up various berries when I spot some oranges. Not my particular favourite but I decide to get some anyway. As I’m picking some I’m suddenly aware of someone beside me. I glance from the corner of my eye. She’s recognisable in an odd sort of way. I couldn’t quite see her face but something about her presence, the way she’s breathing, her careful movements, it’s all so familiar. It’s like I’d seen her so many times but couldn’t place my finger on who she is. I ignore the puzzle my brain is trying to make this and focus on the oranges in my hands. She’s buying apples, placing one by one in a brown paper bag. I’m just about to put the final orange in the bag when suddenly I feel her bump into me. I see hands fly to her mouth and her eyes widen.

“Oh my gosh I’m so sorry!”

Her voice hits me like a train and I realise who she is. Why she was so recognisable. The left side of my chest fills with warmth that spreads across my whole body and suddenly my heart is pounding. I’m frozen for a second, not knowing what to say until I blurt out her name.

“Y/N!”

I stand up properly to make sure it’s really her. She’s stood there still, not moving, not blinking, I don’t even know if she’s breathing. She seems to be ina state of paralysis for a few moments. She looks up finally and murmurs my name.

“Gray?”

I chill runs down my spine, it’s been so long since I’ve heard my names from those lips. Her lips. The ones I used to kiss and now look at us. Too flustered for each other’s good in the fruit aisle of a grocery stores. Her hair spills around her face, framing her beautiful features. It’s like I’m looking at her for the first and last time all over again. The odd feelings of desire and pain mixing up into some messy soup in the pit of my stomach. As our eyes meet, a lifetime of love flashes before me. Memories that had been buried deep into the darkest parts of my mind begin to resurface and play like a mini movie. Over and over and over, like the film tape was stuck in the camera and no more of the story could make it through. She looks just like I remembered yet not quite. The months I’d spent moping over her, dreaming of her features, once drawing her just from memory. And now she was here infront of me. I wonder what she might be thinking. If she were thinking about the past we’d been through or the present were in now. Or maybe it’s neither, maybe I’m not even on her mind.

“Wow it’s really you,” I say. I want to smile, but I can’t will myself too, it feels in my gut like some sort of betrayal… but I don’t know who to. My wife? My children? Myself? Her?

It’s so odd seeing her again. Part of her was always somehow engraved into the side of my heart. Even when it was all over, the scarred name was still there and right now I can feel it throbbing. I don’t know whether the pain is good or bad but it just feels so natural for it to occur. I’d thought I was over this, over her, over the feeling but now I can see her again I don’t feel so powerful over my own swarm of thoughts as I did when she wasn’t staring at me with those angel eyes. She’s everything I’d remembered. Perfection doesn’t even begin to outline what she looks like. She looks a little older, a little more mature but I dare say it’s made her even prettier. She has the same gorgeous eyes, bright smile, soft hair. All those nights I’d spent gazing at her while she slept, tracing the very features that I stare at now. Then I’d taken them for granted, assumed that I’d be able to do that forever but now I just take them in slowly, processing this might be the last time I see them.

A question plays on the tip of my tongue, but it had already died long before in my throat, so I don’t ask it. Even though my heart is screaming for me to just be brave for once, my brain declines once again. My eye flicker down to get a glimpse of her left hand. I am guilty, but I have to know if she’s found someone new. Someone who’s given her what she deserves, the things that I couldn’t. But her left hand is gripping the basket so tightly that her fingers and any rings are hidden behind the handle and the white of her knuckles. So I’m left staring at the items in her basket. Baby bottles and blankets. My heart plummets down to my stomach. Was she expecting? Or had she already had her child? It’s funny, I’d always thought if she’d ever had a baby it would be mine. Suddenly this revelation makes me angry. She is having it has had a baby with someone. She’s a mother and not to my children. It stings so much more than it should. Like antiseptic on a fresh wound. But what hurts more than that is that I don’t know these things about her anymore. I don’t know her life, all the exciting moments and even the painful ones. And I’m never going to. It’s never going to be what it was and it’s all my fault. I let it all slip away and now I’m full of regret,

And then the blow of guilt hits me out of no where again. As if a shell has exploded right in front of me and I’ve been blown to smithereens. I should’ve be feeling regret. I have my own a life now with a woman a love, who is now called my wife. I have kids and a car and a steady income. And she has her life. I’m selfish, I’m so bitterly selfish for wanting what I can’t have when I already have so much… and yet it still doesn’t stop me.

Her hand shifts hold on the basket and then I see it. An engagement ring and a wedding band. Classy and classic. I expect nothing less, of course. That’s her taste. It always has been and I’m glad she’s find someone who respects that, who acknowledges it. But it’s grating at me… if we had still been together would she have gotten the same set or would it be different. I wish I didn’t care this much. I shouldn’t care this much. It’s a piece of damn mental and yet it’s suddenly the only thing on my mind. I’m ridden with a horrible vicious jealousy, spreading like an ugly rash all over my skin. I’m jealous of whatever man put these rings on her finger, whatever man got the luxury of calling her his wife. I’m disgusted in myself for feeling this way because she looks happy. Happier than ever. And I want that for her more than anything. She deserves to be the happiest girl in the world. But I wish I could’ve made her this happy. But I failed. And this is my punishment. I have my own life now and so does she, so I keep having to remind myself. Why is the concept so hard for me to grasp?

I wonder about her husband. It’s hard to picture her with someone else. I think about all the things I hope he is to her. Was he the kindest soul on the planet? Would he do anything and everything for her? Did he treat her like she deserved more than the world? I hoped, I prayed he was. And even though I’m trying to forbid it to, my mind still wanders on… Was he anything like I was? Or did I scar her so badly that he was my opposite? What made her choose him? Fall for him harder than she’d fallen for me? What made his love worth fighting for?

I look back to her face and inwardly sigh. I doubt she was doing this. Mulling over me and my life like I am hers. Overthinking every detail, wondering who she’s married to and why. She’s too kind, too mature. I only wish I could have the decency to do the same, but it’s pricing difficult. Though, I catch her eyeing my wedding ring. And suddenly a pang hits my stomach and I want to tell her so many things that I can’t. I wish I could tell her I didn’t dare engrave the initials in the metal, like we’d one discussed. I didn’t for one second think of doing that with anyone but her. I wanted to tell her that I drove all the way out to a jewellers in another town just so I wouldn’t go to the same one we once did. I wanted to tell her that I kept the promise rings we’d made together and I still have them in a box under the roof of my house. But I stay silent because I am a coward.

“Yeah, gosh, hi, how have you been?” she asks. The first thing I notice is how radiant she looks, the brightness in her eyes and joy in her voice. ‘She’s happy’ I think again and that makes me smile a little.

“Good, I’m good,” I reply, “how are you?”

“Yeah,” she nods, “good as well.”

“It’s been a while,” i say, forcing a laugh to hide the resurfacing pain. It was easier like that.

“Yeah it has,” she grins back, her eyes pinned to mine. She looks so delicate in this moment and so unbelievably beautiful, “it’s about time we’d bump into each other.”

“Yeah,” I reply, gazing at her trying to suppress my smile. But it seems to not obey and suddenly I’m grinning like I haven’t in a very long time, not since we were together I don’t think.

A menagerie of memories replay in my head, but it feels like I’m a bystander in every scene, watching another version of myself with her. A wave of deja vu envelopes me suddenly sending tingles down my spine. I don’t like what she does to me, I don’t like feeling so far from myself and yet I miss her so much. And just as if she’s reading my thoughts she says three fateful words that I’ll never forget,

“I’ve missed you,” she says rather suddenly.

Those words hit me like a bus, in the best way possible. In fact I wish to be hit with that bus over and over and over just to feel the impact.

“I’ve missed you too,” I say, hoping she can hear the meaning in my voice, see the emotion in my eyes.

The tide of bittersweetness roll in and out slowly, unsurely, indecisively. And even though the water is only up to my ankles I’m suddenly drowning. Drowning in the most minuscule amount of water because my mind is making it out to be so much more than it is. A unswallowable lump forms in my throat in this prolonged silence. My eyes refuse to leave her face, the very face I left all those years ago. She wears the same expression as that night. One of the worst nights of my life. Her eyes are wide, a borderline of hurt and happiness. I still have nightmares to this day, it’s one moment of us together that I never wish to relive. The silence makes me ache all over, craving her voice once more. I want to forget about the history and bury it right next to the pain and trauma that have been buried for years now. But making this quiet somewhat bearable is the silent conversation we share. We know each other well enough to do so. A shared moment the saddest of happiness and the happiest of sadness all at once.

A call comes through on my phone and I look down to the buzzing device to see it’s my wife. Guilt surges through me once again.

“Well I’d best get going,” I tell her quickly.

I need to get away. Even though all I want to so is stand her for the rest of time just to hear her voice and see her face. She’s my drug, she always has been and always will be. But I gave up a long time ago and I can’t go back to what I was, to who I was. So I need to run and rehabilitate, so I don’t get addicted again. A coward of a man is all I am, but I least I laid my eyes on her beauty once more before I never did again.

“Yeah me too,” she nod firmly, confidently.

She holds herself with so much more pride now, she knows how much she’s worth and I can see it. I’m glad.

“Goodbye Y/N,” I murmur, savouring the feeling of her name on my lips, “I wish you all the best.”

And I did. Truly I did. I wanted her to have everything she ever could dream of and then more.

“Bye Gray,” she says with a small smile that I never realised how much I’d missed seeing, “I wish you the same.”

We turn and walk our separate ways, apples in her basket, oranges in mine. I take the call from my wife and then wander aimlessly down different aisles not knowing what I was doing or where I was going anymore. Until it had been an hour and I finally made it back home. As soon as I can I get into the shower and break down. A sob silently as the water droplets run down my body, until the lungs ache and my head screams at me to stop. And even then it’s hard to. I can’t shake the regret, I can’t shake the pain, I can’t shake her voice and her face from my brain. I quietly wonder if she cried too… no. She’s far too strong. I pull myself together for the sake of the life I lead now and force myself not to think of her.

The oranges rot in the fruit bowl. I don’t think I would’ve eaten them when they were fresh anyway, I’ve never liked their immediate sourness and then the thick sugary aftertaste left to coat my throat. The next time I go to the shop I buy apples instead of oranges hoping she’d be there too, but she never was. I find myself wondering if the next time she went to the shop she bought oranges rather than apples in hope to see me. But I suppose it will remain one of the worlds’ greatest mysteries and I will never find the answer, no matter how hard I try…

a/n: I gave Gray’s pov a shot?? Don’t know how successful it was, but I hope you enjoyed anyways. Thanks for reading 🤍🤍

TIG masterlist

#bella writes 🤍#grayson hawthorne #grayson hawthorne x you #grayson hawthorne x reader #the inheritance games #tig #the brothers hawthorne #the final gambit #the hawthorne legacy #tig fic #love to write #writing

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pixeltwix · 26 days ago

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’Oh, if he only had a brain-‘

DO YA’LL SEE MY VISION?!

So I had early access to see Wicked with a bestie ages ago now and I’ve sorta just been marinating with au ideas that I could never quite put together since then

But I finally stopped thinking so hard about it and stuck with the basic Oz plot with a little twists here and there to fit a more Gravity Falls esque character narrative

Considering the Dixon family is most likely from Kansas anyway this felt like a perfect Emma May au plug if there was any. Plus girl can rock blue and red (it’s like the only colors I ever draw her in anyway riP)

But I envision Emma May’s ver of Dorothy as less sweet and naive and more so just?? Driven by the feeling of adventure as a whole. This is the first time she’s ever felt like she’s gotten freedom and she literally had to be swept up into another world to obtain that

She wants to go home, but not to the home she left behind, but a home where she can actually be happy

Oh Fiddleford McGucket, the man that you are

So I know it can be debated that he should be the lion and Stan should be the scarecrow instead, but realistically the aesthetics fit different this way and idk? It feels justified (I’ll elaborate more on my reasons for Stan whenever I draw his design for this au, but I digress)

Fiddleford is a genius guy, but he never feels validated or truly confident in his abilities because he’s either looked down upon or because he’s just that anxious

I mean we learn in the end anyway that the scarecrow is a genius in his own way, and that’s kinda how I see Fidds too. Like yes, he IS a genius even if he doesn’t think it, he just needed to be reaffirmed of that

But anywhoooo, I have all the character roles figured out except for the wicked witch??

Like I have Carla as Glinda and Bill as Oz, but am otherwise blanking so hard for the wicked witch ahhhh I’ll figure it out eventually

#gravity falls #gravity falls au #emma may dixon #fiddleford mcgucket #the wizard of oz #wicked #gravity falls fandom #the book of bill #book of bill #gravity falls oc #gravity falls fanart #oc #fanart #stan pines #ford pines #au #the wizard of oz au #bill cipher #fiddemma

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genericpuff · 29 days ago

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story time

after like a year of giving up on it, i found another possible solution to my dead kamvas 22 plus (the display tablet that i used for 2 years before it randomly shit the bed, i've been using it exclusively as a monitor ever since without drawing support)

in my hyperfixated state of trying new solutions, i then proceeded to nearly blow up my motherboard when i accidentally stuck a USB-C - which was plugged into a cable box plugged into a power bar plugged into the wall - into a USB-A port :)

PC then retaliated against this blatant act of foolishness by shutting down and then refusing to boot past the BIOS, it would just give me the USB over current "the PC will shut down automatically in 15 seconds" warning

had a very tiny little meltdown thinking i was gonna have to call my PC guy in the morning to once again explain how much of a fucking idiot i am (wouldn't be the first time) and then possibly drop hundreds on a new motherboard if i managed to fuck it over that badly

BUT thankfully it's not gonna come to that because after doing some power cycling for about 15 minutes, i plugged everything back in and the computer booted up just fine

despite nearly cooking my computer, i then still had the audacity to continue with my troubleshooting (i wasn't gonna let this stupid tablet humble me quite so easily) but this time by resetting it entirely through the settings, which then proceeded to give my tablet a literal seizure until i unplugged it and plugged it back in again - and then after THAT i realized in horror that i had duped myself yet again, as resetting my tablet in the settings also went and reset my color gamut settings (and i don't have my previous settings recorded anywhere nearby because of course i wouldn't, i nearly blew up my computer LMAO)

messed around with the color and brightness settings for the next 45 minutes and while it doesn't 'feel' like how it used to, i also can't be assed to trust myself at this point, it looks close enough to my phone display so i'll take it and just assume that my brain is too cooked to even remember what it looked like before LMAO

anyways lesson of the day: don't live like i do, you will probably explode :)

#off topic #self post #story time

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little-diable · 2 years ago

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Insanity - Dean Winchester (smut)

What can I say, I just love Dean. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this. Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Dean and the reader are trapped in a church, moments of silence that force them to finally close that lingering gap between them; or: Childhood friends to lovers

Warnings: 18+, smut (p in v), oral (m), making out in a church, car sex, friends to lovers

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader (1.9k words)

divider by @firefly-graphics

“Are you insane?” She drew in a shaky breath, eyes fluttering close as she rested her head against the wooden bench of the church. “Why am I even asking that, of course you are, you Winchesters all are.”

“We both know you love the adventure, sweetheart, no need to lie to yourself.” Their eyes met, chests heavily rising and falling as they hid away in the church, praying that they’ll be able to catch their breaths for a moment or two. “Come here.”

Dean’s hand found her waist, pulling (y/n) closer to wrap his arm around her. He could read her as if he was the one feeling her every emotion. She had been scared; not about the demon both were currently hiding from – even though Dean wouldn’t call it hiding himself, more like catching a break; not about being hurt in this very hunt; no, hearing the pained groan rumbling through Dean, worrying that he had been hurt, had left her heart racing in her chest.

“I’m okay.” He whispered the words against her forehead, hand comfortingly stroking up and down her side. There was something between them both couldn’t put into words to express what they were feeling, something neither Dean nor (y/n) had experienced in a long time. They had crossed paths as mere teenagers, bound together by their eternal fate: carrying the legacy of their families. Ever since then the two had been inseparable, not daring to leave one another's side. But not once had they acted upon whatever was crackling in the atmosphere whenever they were close.

“I know, it’s just,” the words were hanging in the air, sentence left unfinished as Dean’s hand found her chin, forcing (y/n) to get lost in the green eyes reminding one of a forest, basking in the heat of a calm summer afternoon. A heat threatening to burn through her system if she wasn’t able to pull away quick enough.

“I’m not leaving you, not now or ever, I promise. I’m right here.” She wasn’t sure why she was freaking out, it wasn’t the first time Dean had been hurt in a hunt – and certainly wouldn’t be the last time either – and yet her heart wouldn’t stop racing. Fuck, she needed to get a grip, focusing on the situation they were stuck in, trapped in a dark church in the middle of fucking nowhere.

“Don’t promise me that, you know it doesn’t work like that.” A raspy chuckle bubbled out of Dean, gaze flickering down to her lips – just for a moment; a moment of weakness; a moment of distraction. Dean felt himself moving before his brain could catch up with his body, screaming at him to pull away, to stay away from the invisible line he had been wanting to cross for years on end. He had always tried to put their friendship first, not daring to even think about losing her in the process of admitting his feelings, preferring to suffer with the love that grew exponentially.

The kiss was soft, unlike any kisses Dean had ever shared before, it wasn’t rushed, wasn’t filled with lust – at least not yet – guided by his racing heart. Her breath hitched in her chest, unable to pull away as she got lost in the unfamiliar touch, a touch she had been dreaming of since she had first met Dean, wondering about those soft lips.

Her hands found their way to his hair, clinging to the hunter that pulled her into his lap, no longer focusing on their hunt, on the danger lingering outside of the holy ground. Dean’s tongue begged for entrance, unable to bite down the groan rumbling through him as she parted her lips for him.

“Fuck, Dean,” her words vibrated on his lips, drawing yet another chuckle from him. His eyes were twinkling, though the green was no longer soft and clear, no longer reminding her of the calmness lingering in a forest, no, a storm was clashing through the evening, a storm so heavy she’d have no choice but give into the strong force. “We need to get out of here.”

“On three?”

“You’re staring.” Dean murmured his words, lips pulled into a smirk as he kept watching the road ahead. She had her face tilted towards him, not daring to stop admiring the man she had kissed about an hour ago. Both were still running on the adrenaline thumping through their veins, grateful that they had managed to get rid of the demon – spurred on by the need to spend more time together, alone without anything or anyone to disturb them near.

“Mhm, maybe I am.” She placed her hand on his thigh, needing to feel him close, no longer able to keep her distance. Dean undoubtedly grew tense, jaw clenched, tongue stroking along his lower lip to at least try to keep his focus on the road ahead. He was burning for her touch, had tasted her and could no longer stop thinking about the things he wanted to do to her, fuck, he had wanted to take her right there in the church, giving into the inappropriateness of the situation.

“If you move any higher I’ll stop the car and fuck you senseless right here, I hope you know that, sweetheart.” Dean’s murmurs left her gasping, not expecting the filthy words to roll off his tongue like that. She needed a few moments to reply, eyes flickering to the dark road ahead, pondering over his words as if he had offered her a deal her life depended on.

And maybe it did, maybe the next moments would decide over the path the two could walk together from this day on.

“I’m willing to take the risk.” Her fingertips grazed over the fabric of his jeans, feeling his cock growing harder beneath her touch. Dean grasped the steering wheel tighter, knuckles growing white as he kept driving, not slowing down just yet. Perhaps he was testing her, doubting that she’d go ahead and try to suck him off while he was driving; but she was determined, set on feeling every part of his body.

It took her a few moments to undo his jeans, biting down the proud smirk tugging on her lips as Dean groaned for her, unable to hold back the sounds threatening to claw through him. He raised his hips, allowing her to fully free his cock, successfully managing to wrap her slightly trembling hand around him. Only the sounds of the radio kept echoing through Baby, though the music wasn’t loud enough to drown out the sounds the two produced, filthy sounds only for the two of them to focus on.

Without a warning she moved closer, lips parted to swallow him down. The back of her throat was burning, struggling to take all of him as she gagged, eyes growing watery within seconds. He felt heavy against her tongue, resting comfortably in her mouth, not daring to pull away from the without doubt best blowjob Dean had ever received.

“Eyes on the road, Winchester.” Her teasing momentarily ripped through the tense atmosphere, eyes meeting his stormy ones before she took him back into her mouth. (Y/n) felt the car slow down, eventually coming to a halt on the side of the road. No longer did he look away, eyes focused on her, the bobbing motion of her head, the tears rolling down her cheeks, the saliva coating his cock. A filthy mess he desperately wanted to take a picture of, forever his to remember.

“Fuck, stop.” Dean tugged her off his cock, not wanting to give into his orgasm just yet. Their lips met for a sloppy kiss, sharing the emotions their words couldn’t manage to express. “Get in the back.”

Quietly she followed the command, stepping out into the cold night only to find her way to the backseat, watching him tug himself back into his jeans for a second as he followed her. Carefully he placed her against the leather seat, towering over her as if he was the devil himself. He’d make her suffer, though not with pain, no, with something by far simpler, a sensation only those willing to take the risk would experience. Lust.

“I got you.” Dean’s lips moved down her throat, watching goosebumps rise on her skin, hearing the sound of her heart growing louder, feeling her growing tense beneath him. He helped her out of her trousers and panties, desperate for more access to her heat. She was dripping, begging for his cock as if he was the drug she was addicted to, a feeling so simple her mind had a hard time processing it.

“You can do that later, just fuck me, Dean.” If he hadn't been this desperate to touch her, he’d probably tease her for being this impatient, for begging him to fuck her till she forgot her own name, but Dean was just as impatient, needing to feel her wrapped around his cock even if this was the last thing he’d do on this godforsaken earth.

She watched him roll a condom down his cock, eyes flickering back up to meet hers before he pushed into her tightness, groaning into the crook of her neck. Fuck, this is what heaven must feel like, no, scratch that, this is what the darkest corner of hell must feel like: Dean knew that he no longer could escape her, forever trapped in her spell, there was no escaping.

With one hand finding the leather of the seats and the other placed on her waist, Dean fucked her into the seat, forcing his cock deeper into her tightness with every thrust. The moments kept dragging on, time had lost its meaning for the two lovers that searched their closeness with the way their bodies kept meeting. Bound together by memories, moments lived through together and the desperate need to stay like that till the sun would rise above the horizon.

“Mhm, you feel so good, fuck sweetheart, you’re making me suffer.” His words were nothing more than a whisper, a sound so sweet (y/n) felt herself falling for him once again. She pulled him in for a kiss, walls clamping down on his cock as he fucked her closer to the edge. Her vision was blurred, unable to focus as her emotions wrecked through her, set on leading her off the path she had been walking, no longer one with the independent self she had once been.

“Let go, it’s alright.” His name rumbled through her as (y/n) came around his cock. She had her eyes squeezed shut, heavily breathing as the sensation burned through her, not daring to let go of her just yet. Dean followed her moments later, spilling into the condom with a groan clawing through him, clearly communicating the desperation he felt.

Neither Dean nor (y/n) dared to let go just yet, clinging to one another as the realisation slowly but surely began to settle in. Insanity had finally caught up with her, an insanity she could only share with Dean.

#Dean Winchester smut #Dean Winchester imagine #supernatural smut

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fatedroses · 1 month ago

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So I’m a new follower and I’ve been going through your adventurer zenos tag because I’m loving the idea a lot! But I don’t really know the history behind it. I’d love to know how you started thinking about it and would love to know how Xenia’s relationships with the WOL and the scions developed if you don’t mind me asking? Again im loving your art a lot!!!

First of all thank you for the follow and the ask, anon, and I'm always so happy to hear people are enjoying my art, and my goofy bits of theorycrafting, headcanoning and/or story writing- how ever people want to see it as. BUT- this has also unironically been stuck in my brain since the end of EW:6.0 (I was stuck with the zenos brainrot the moment I saw him at the end of heavensward v-v), and also because among my friend group Zenos is adored, so we end up chatting about this kind of stuff a lot. So, it is time for me to now yap here, beware some spoilers for both Endwalker and DT, and a very long post:

To be honest, the reason I ever even started thinking about it was just seeing Zenos' capacity to change as a character and him unintentionally helping people by just existing in some cases (the scene with Alisaie in Garlemald and the fact that he went to Krile for help so he could help us- reason aside- comes to mind mainly in regards to him changing, even if there are tidbits a bit earlier as well). And, that him imposing his help upon the WoL and the Scions is what I personally consider the most likely course (and I simply sit here and cope lmao I also just really want a minion of him eventually) if he was to return from the Ultimatum. 6.2-6.5 also added to it with both the mentions of him from Zero, the flashback of him over the handshake, and that I personally also saw Durante and Golbez's relationship as an analogy to Zenos and WoL (not helped by the fact that in EN Durante/the knight in black speaks in Zenos' cadence and uses the same armored talking animations but that's more on the meta side of it). I spent a lot of the time I put aside for character research being fascinated by his psychology and how he could grow, even if I will admit by now that what I have as his baseline is a bit of a house of cards, especially in things like his interests, or later potential interests. I base a lot of them off of the concept that he takes after Solus/Emet-Selch far more than is actually narratively stated or even implied, or from filling in the gaps of information with the possibility that implied information was not intentional/meant to be used in the way I use it. For example Varis exiling the theater ship was to get rid of something Emet cherished and for the sake of his own narrative, but something Zenos may have showed interest in too, only based off of how similar the theatrics Emet and Zenos use.

Now, as for his relationships, especially with the WoL (Meteor, default man in my case, its mainly because I ADORE the challenge and the experience of what we have as WoL's baseline due to, you know, the constraint of this being a linear narrative mmo lmao, as well as trying my best to stay canon compliant as possible when it comes to the scions' interactions) I write as starting off being exceptionally one sided. It comes from the idea that Zenos either gets himself out of the bubble (because it seems to be implied that this man cant actually return to the lifestream, and therefore can't perma-die, ironic to his character motivations) or with DT, shit goes so far south that we have to use the interdimensional chalice for his help, and that either way they're just kind of stuck with him thereafter. But I'll break it down because it's something that I've worked on writing, but haven't had the chance to draw out quite yet for some of what I'll talk about.

Meteor: It is no surprise that after the Telopheroi towers and Garlemald, on top of what happens during In From the Cold and the moon- that WoL goes from their more neutral, rivalry-leaning stance on Zenos, to pure anger and/or hatred. And this lets me write the dynamic between the two that is Meteor trying to move forward, trying to accept this change seeing Zenos try to help, and Zenos trying to pull away knowing at his core that he boned himself over ruining whatever unspoken trust they had, and given his position, not knowing if something like that could ever be mended, (and not quite knowing how to cope with even the idea that the man he cares so deeply about and kinda looks up to, might detest him just like how Varis did.) Overall it also just comes from the idea that these two overcoming any of their hurdles with each other suddenly makes them into the most terrifying duo, especially since I write Adventurer Zenos as a tank that will just eat all the damage so Meteor can be a stupid little shit with all the sharp objects he has at his disposal.

The Scions: So, imagine this giant super soldier is suddenly alive and in front of you again, offering to help/to learn to adventure for the plan of trying to see joy in this world. And you, knowing that he is right now the world's enemy, the one pinned with everything that happened during the final days, understand that it is highly unlikely that you or the others could reasonably kill him or imprison him for any meaningful amount of time. BUT, you can try to guide him on a better path. Begrudgingly, so that all that shit never happens again. That is what I have the scions stuck with, starting with the twins, then estinien and the students, and finally the wine trio. He doesn't apologize for anything, but he does also do whatever you ask, and overtime he starts (oh no) taking the same liking to the others that started with Meteor. The Scions are who I primarily use to explore the facets we've seen of his character, his protectiveness and the "rivalry" I write between him and Thancred, his curiosity and working alongside the Students and Urianger and Y'shtola, exploration and trying to understand the world better with Estinien, and him learning to connect with others through the twins, especially Alisaie who I imagine him kind of latching on to after she "helped" him, in his eyes.

All and all, adventurer zenos at its core is just what I personally see as his natural character progression going forward, spawned purely from my own curiosity of seeing his archetype of character in the position of having one last chance, and based off very extensive character research that started, honest to god, from me trying to just figure out the scenarios I wanted to draw him in that spiraled very very out of control lmao.

#ffxiv #adventurer zenos #ask #anon #endwalker spoilers #dawntrail spoilers #long post #I wasnt intially gonna slap this under a read more until I saw how much I typed #hopefully this answers everything- if I missed anything I am always happy to answer any needs for clarification #thank you so much again for the ask #and I am very sorry if this was a lot longer of an answer than you intended to receive lmao #character writing questions are always the surefire way to get me to drop essays #and I will fully acknowledge that some of my research is reaching in an attempt to stich together backstories and events #that we dont see in game #especially with some of the information we get from the short stories LOL #I miss my giant 7'4" depressed golden retriever- adven!zenos may have also just spawned #from wanting to reach for him back after EW tbh

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divineintervention-comics · 7 months ago

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When did you first read the myth of Ganymede? And why did you chose to make a comic for this myth?

its a long and convoluted story but im happy to share. in 2015, i was in middle school, i made horror character designs based on the zodiac signs and those later became OCs (i have never read homestuck, everything i know about it was forced upon me by my friends in school). i used the myths as backstories for the characters when they are living constellations. i wanted to make a RPG and they were stars that fell to earth when the gods got too caught up in their bullshit and neglected humanity and the earth and now they have to save the world.

i was immediately attached to Aquarius (who is now Ganymede), he was always an androgynous perpetually dissociated character even before i knew the backstory. i was a teenager myself at this point when i really got into it, and i found the Zeus and Ganymede myth to be disturbing since i was his age. it stuck with me, to the point where i struggled to find the other constellations myths less compelling.

i dont know how to code and didnt know how to make games, i already felt like i was losing it bc its been in production hell since i was 12 and i was 17 at the time. i felt like before i make the game, i should make backstory comics for ALL 12 CHARACTERS (how i thought i would be able to do that when i only cared about 2-3 of the characters in the series who knows). i couldnt stop thinking about Ganymede, i couldnt stop thinking about a story where he is a character and not just an object in the narrative.

in 2020-2021, i made my first draft beta version, it wasnt called "Cupbearers", it was "Divine Intervention: Cupbearer". i just found the myth so compelling in a "i need to make a horror story out of this" way, i needed to cope with my own fears of kidnapping, sexual abuse, human trafficking, loss of bodily autonomy, transformations, immortality, and being stuck through this myth inspired comic.

Ganymede, even as Aquarius, has always been a cathartic character for me, both as a 12 year old and now as a 21 year old. i grow up but he is cursed with immortality, cursed with eternal youth, the world keeps moving on and he will never be able to catch up. stuck in the same spot, never moving forward, never moving backwards, just stuck working for the man who stole his life until the end of time, eternal punishment viewed as a gift by those who bestowed it upon him. how could you be so ungrateful? we gave you a gift. we took you away from everything you've ever known, we've taken away ownership of your body, we've turned you into a beast like us, being tortured by me is a gift, it is a privilege that i chose you, you ungrateful meat-thing.

but he is just a kid, i want to protect him, i want to draw him having fun, i want to draw him enjoying a good meal, i want to see him find any comfort in the horror that is immortality. he's only a kid. just a baby, barely even though puberty, his brain isnt done developing, he had a future, he could have grown up and chose his own life. i think about that a lot.

i just generally have a lot of thoughts, everything i write and draw for this project has a point, it has a purpose, its not just needless suffering i dont write despair. (some zeus x ganymede shipper vagueposted about cupbearers being needless wallowing without purpose bc i dont write fluff fics between a grown man and his child slave)

i really appreciate this ask!!! thanks for asking me about my thought process, i have so much going on in my head and i need to get it out somehow

#cupbearers comic #cupbearers #ganymede #new eva lore just dropped #cupbearers lore

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kozachenko · 5 months ago

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A Retrospective Analysis on Touhou 17

So it's finally here, and even though I know for a fact that I am not going to be able to get the Keiki drawing done by this time (I'm having trouble with the eyes, for some reason it's always that aspect of drawing her that's difficult for me, I can never really capture the essence of her character no matter what I do) I still wanted to post something about this game today since it's the game's 5 year anniversary. I have a lot of thoughts on it, and my views on the game have changed quite a lot throughout my time being a Touhou fan. This is going to be very long so I'll put the rest under the keep reading tag.

So for some background, Touhou 17 was the first Touhou game I ever played, I got into the series during 2021 shortly after my Hunter X Hunter phase ended (since the manga was still on hiatus at the time) and I remember playing 17 during that time as well. I'm pretty sure that the reason I played it was because of that one nitirushh animation where Keiki disses the animal spirits so hard that they die (still my favourite fan-depection of Keiki tbh, it's just really funny to me) and that set my interest in the game itself. It was also the newest Touhou game at the time and none of the other games interested me as much. Then I actually played the game and at the time I found it insanely fun. I remember feeling so excited playing the stage 1 of the game and thinking to myself "Holy shit I'm actually playing a Touhou game" and having a lot of fun with it. Even though the game itself is the easiest out of all the Touhou games, it was still a challenge for me at the time since I had never played a bullet Hell before. For this reason, the game as a whole struck a chord with me. Funny Touhou animation aside, I don't know if it was because I had only recently gotten out of my Hunter X Hunter phase after finishing the whole 2011 version of the anime and had caught up with the manga during 2020, but maybe some aspect of 17 kinda scratched a similar itch in my brain and it really stuck with me IDK.

As for what I think of the game itself now.... gameplay wise, it could be better, it's still fun but there was so much potential for the game to tell it's story through the medium it chose to present itself in. Why did we not have more similarities between Eika and Keiki's danmaku styles to show their connection? Why did we not have a moment similar to what happened in TD during the final boss fight where Mayumi comes back in to take over during the fight in a last ditch effort to protect Keiki? It's the final boss so go all out! The animal spirits could also be balanced a lot better as well, especially with Youmu becoming incredibly overpowered with the wolf spirit, and visibility is a bit of a problem in this game. Some of the tracks could use a bit more polish too, I commend ZUN for being experimental with his newer tracks but the stage 3 theme and staff roll theme are both kinda eh, and while the boss themes have a lot of good punch to them and can be really good, it still feels like some extra spice could've been added to really make them stand out (which is why I love the theme remixes Saki and Yachie got in Touhou 19). I also wish the Animal Realm got explained better within the lore of the series, mainly because it raises a lot of questions about how Hell was founded and it kinda needlessly complicates things. I would've rather it be introduced as it's own region of Hell rather than being a separate thing entirely that just so happens to be located next to it. I also wish that we got more stuff with this setting that explains how it connects to the rest of the worldbuilding a lot more, I definitely feel like actually having it explained more in the mangas would definitely help to make it feel less convuluted, but unfortunately the closest we're getting are cameos in Lotus Eaters and very brief mentions of the games themselves. I still like the game though, as I've mentioned I do love a lot of the music and I love all the characters we got introduced to in this game. I've been appreciating Eika a lot more recently, I do like Urumi but she's neat and I like her design a lot, Kutaka is a fucking shithead who kept FUCKING UP MY 1CCS IN BOTH 17 AND 17.5 THE FUCKING BITCH- who is very funny and I love seeing more insight into Hell's management. Yachie's great and I find her relationships to the other characters in this game very interesting, Mayumi is awesome and the more I think about her the more I like her, and I love how Saki contrasts Yachie in her strategies. That being she has no strategy and just goes "fuck it, we ball" with no hesitation lmao.

I'm pretty sure you all noticed the absence of one character in particular, that being Keiki. I've made it no secret on this blog that Keiki is my favourite Touhou character, and a lot of that is because of her role as an antagonist in Touhou 17. I always found it really fascinating how ZUN created her as an allegory for AI (I don't know if Apollo just randomly blessed him with the gift of prophecy because MAN does that statement hit harder now more than ever) and the fact that she's portrayed as a very morally grey character in the game itself and Reimu's reaction to her, stating that she can see an "evil aura" in Keiki. I've already talked a lot about Keiki on this blog and I don't know what there is that I haven't said, but I wanted to start off with her because it ties into a big part of why I still find this game's story interesting. That main aspect being it's parallels to Gensokyo and Touhou's overarching them of humanity's relationship with nature.

So to step back from 17 for a second, I feel like we should look at what the Youkai represent in the story. Youkai in Touhou are created from humanity's fear, and back before science was able to properly explain anything, this fear very often manifested into a fear of nature. Natural disasters would end up wiping out villages, dangerous animals would often lurk in forests and end up killing anyone who would go in them. Overall nature isn't very kind to humanity, and humanity knows this. This is why humanity would often try and find reasons as to why these things would happen. This brings us back to the Youkai in Touhou who are the embodiment of the unexplainable. In manga like Forbidden Scrollery and Lotus Eaters, we often see how the humans in the human village are at the mercy of these Youkai, the only reason that they aren't being slaughtered is entirely for their own benefit so they don't run out of resources. The only hope the humans in the village really have is to turn to the gods, another product of man's desire to explain the unexplainable, to potentially save them. The survival of the people in the human village will always be in the hands of beings beyond their comprehension. No matter what, humanity will always be at the mercy of nature.

Coming back to Touhou 17, we can see that the relationship between the human and beast spirits isn't exactly.... pleasant. The beast spirits all see the human spirits as slaves essentially and they gain strength from their torment. The only way that the human spirits are even able to stand a chance against them is to submit themselves to a god and pray for their protection. And even then there's no way in Hell that they're getting out of this situation since the god they're praying to views them the same way as the animal spirits (whether they are aware of it or not).

So if you haven't noticed by my word choice, there are quite a lot of similarities here with the dynamics of the Animal realm and Gensokyo. That's not even mentioning the fact that in both places we have at least 3 different parties fighting over control of the humans, whether it be animal spirits or Youkai. Hell, this race for power in Gensokyo is a plot point in Lotus Eaters and Forbidden Scrollery, so it's not like this is a new concept for the series to explore either.

There's also something to be said about how Keiki and the technology she brings with her are seen as a threat to the order of the animal realm. Throughout human history, humanity's creativity and ingenuity have always been major factors in our survival as a species. We created tools to use the nature around us and make it work to our advantage, we created weapons to more efficiently hunt and find food to survive, and we created art and literature to document our histories and make sense of the world. Going back to 17, Keiki is the epitome of humanity's evolution and creativity and she is the one who responded to the human's cries for salvation. Another thing to think about is that in Gensokyo, the best the villagers are going to get in terms of technology are old computers that are very limited in their use, and even then barely anyone will have any idea how to use them. The reason that Gensokyo even exists in the first place is to preserve the Youkai and Gods that would become forgotten by humanity's technological advancement. In both of these places, technological advancement is seen as a threat to the natural order and must be suppressed at all costs.

Of course in Gensokyo it isn't as extreme as the animal realm. The Kappa, the Tengu, and even gods like Kanako are all quite technologically advanced and/or are introducing new technologies to Gensokyo (those are just the ones I could list off the top of my head, but please tell me if there are more that I forgot). But here's the interesting thing, notice how none of the examples I listed there were humans. The only way for the humans of Gensokyo to have these technologies introduced to them is if the powers that be, nature, let them have those technologies. Going back to the animal realm, even after Keiki is defeated we can see that the beast spirits are still using the technologies she (most likely) introduced, i.e. that one chapter in Lotus Eaters where one of the otter spirits introduced what is essentially a GameBoy to the Kappa and Nitori saying stuff like, "oh yeah the animal realm is actually pretty technologically advanced nowadays" as well as that one story in CoLA where Ran and Yachie deal with the AI Sumireko made. Once again, the only times when the use of technology goes unprotested in this series are when it's kept out of the hands of humans and back into the hands of nature. Even when humans are able to fight back and create their own technology, nature will always win in the end, no matter how hard humanity tries to defeat it. The way Touhou 17 ends is indicative of this, with Keiki being defeated and the Animal Realm returning to it's status quo.

However, Gensokyo has never had this kind of issue before.... or so it may seem. Yes there's never been any technological uprising by the human villagers and with the way things are there most likely never will be, but when you take away the potential for technological advancement from humans then the next best thing would be magic. And when humans in Gensokyo use magic to find a way to gain power and be more than just fodder for the Youkai, they end up being punished. This is most prevalent in Forbidden Scrollery when Reimu kills the fortune teller. I don't think I need to go too in depth about this moment since I already did so in my Forbidden Scrollery review but this once again shows a parallel between Gensokyo and the Animal Realm.

So what am I trying to say with all of this? I've been bringing up a lot of the similarities that these two places have but similarities can just be chalked up to coincidences that don't mean anything. What I've been trying to say with this whole thing is that the Animal Realm represents an extreme version of Gensokyo, one where every ugly aspect of it is dialed up to 11 and the law of the strong eating the weak rules all. It's a Gensokyo without a spell card system to level the playing field. I do want to say that I don't believe Gensokyo is a grimdark setting, sure some parts about it are bleaker than others, but there are also many good aspects of Gensokyo that I feel like I should bring up. It's a safe-haven for the forgotten, and if we continue viewing the Youkai and Gods from the lens of both of them being allegories for nature, Gensokyo is a place where nature can fluorish outside of humanity's hands. Unlike the Animal Realm, Gensokyo was never established with the intentions of harming people. Nature is both beautiful and terrifying, and where Gensokyo displays the beautiful sides of nature, the Animal Realm displays all the ugly sides of it. Even then, there is some overlap between the two, Gensokyo does have a nastier side to it and the Animal Realm is a place where nature can exist unrestrained by humanity (even if the place is still a shitshow overall). Now that I think about it, this sort of duality between the two realms is kinda fitting for Touhou, and I can't stress enough that when I say that Gensokyo and the Animal Realm have some parallels I am not trying to say Gensokyo is a grimdark dystopia. Hell even going back into the Lotus Eaters manga, the otter spirit that escaped from the Animal Realm even said that Gensokyo was a better place to live.

So yeah, I don't really have any good way to end this aside from saying happy 5 year anniversary Touhou 17. You are a flawed game but god do I still love you. Oh yeah, and if there's anything I missed or any mistakes I made, please correct me/let me know.

#touhou project #touhou 17 #wily beast and weakest creature #keiki haniyasushin #I mention Keiki the most so that's why I'm tagging her in this #text post #東方project

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diviningrodtv · 9 months ago

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Oh yeah, NSH Time.

I've been holding this post back for like a week😅

I absolutely love how NSH came out and I think he's currently my favourite rain world model that I've done! (Sorry Pebbles, I'm going to upgrade you later anyway :]

I also made his scarf easily removable so you can see how the stripes aren't just on his head! The stripes and his irises also glow, but a bit brighter than the areas on Five Rotten Pebbles.

His antennae are pretty similar to how I did Sliver's, especially considering I did his first! XD They're separated from his head a bit.

Also if you've noticed in my art that his eyes are the exact same as in the model here, that's because they are! I tried finding a way to draw them how I usually might, but I just couldn't get the same vibe! So I said, "Fuck it!" and I've been drawing over his model ever since XD

NSH is also who I used to make the "umbilical arm" model! So if you saw those posts, that's why the textures are all messed up!

And here it is in all it's glory!

It's mostly made of ball joints with a flexible joint attached to the back. The last segment also twists just like your forearm bones!

Also..... lore shit below cause I have, plans™ so-

If you don't want to know why NSH is acting strange on my blog yet, read no further!

(there's also some downpour spoilers, and some other disturbing things)

*slaps top of can* This bad boy can fit so much fucking insanity in him. (cw: self-harm yeah you heard me)

If you haven't figured it out already (I did drop hints :) NSH's structure is damaged! His legs are giving out because a group of scavengers thought it would be funny to transport all of their explosives at once.

So he's in a bit of a pickle!

This is when Looks to the Moon and Five Pebbles' communication tower is repaired! During their first conversation in a very long time, NSH finds out about good ol' Hunter long legs, and is rightfully distraught! He feels like a total failure, that he wasn't experienced enough to properly create his messenger.

That's what this whole post was about!

But, experience is something that can be gained.

NSH figured if Five Pebbles was able to leave his can, then he should be able to as well, but that requires solving the three problems I mentioned in the Five Rotten Pebbles post:

The self-genome modification barrier,

A general lack of puppet central brain matter, and

No material processing within the puppet.

I'll talk about my umbilical lore for this AU here since it's relevant.

Either the "cord" or the "arm" can be disconnected, but not both. This is for ease of repair by administrators. Disconnecting them both would leave the unfortunate Iterator fully functional. Although, they would be blind in the visible spectrum (apart from overseers), unable to speak directly to someone in their chamber, and would otherwise have their workflow be severely impaired. They would effectively be trapped in their own head.

NSH realised that even if the barriers existed, they could still have the intentions, to break them. So what would happen, if he broke one? Not by writing it out of his system, Five Pebbles already proved how risky that method was, but instead by setting his actions in motion faster than any barrier could stop them? This was something to test, and wasn't that what Iterators were built to do anyway?

Umbilicals can only be disconnected by administrators, but what if he were to do it anyway? He needed to leave his can after all, it wouldn't be much of a loss if he was stuck on the floor of his chamber or floating aimlessly in zero gravity for a while.....

So what if he just ran fast enough to rip himself off?

What if he moved his arm back at the last second, could he gain enough inertia to pull it out of his back? Even if it took a few tries?

What other choices does he have? Perfect Five Pebbles' method until he collapses and continue even then? He had time, but not enough for that, and The Hunter certainly did not have any time for waiting around. NSH had to fix his mistake, he had to.

So this bastard goes and does exactly that, and short-circuits his entire system.

Not just breaking the umbilical maintenance barrier, but every other one in the process.

And it all hurts like hell.

But that's the first problem solved, and now he can help keep himself afloat longer. So that now, he can figure out how to solve the other two problems with precision.

Of course, the others won't like any of these plans, but, after what Five Pebbles did, they wouldn't dare disturb him if he stopped responding, right?

And maybe, he could even hijack their communications array, to look for help.

>:]

yeah so NSH is not sane

#No Significant Harassment #rain world #rw no significant harassment #rw nsh #low poly #3d model #blockbench #Digi's RW Design Posts #downpour spoilers #generally fucked up mentally unstable rain world nonsense under the cut. It's marked at the top when you click read more #long post #very long post

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kinja145 · 1 month ago

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The evil has been defeated ; the french translation of DLTD is complete !!!!!!!

It has been almost 9 years since I started it. I was in my first year of highschool when I started, I've gratuated, I went to university for 3 years, graduated again, and now I'm working. It has been a long, long thing to do. I did it with passion, but sometimes I feel like I wasn't as much implicated in the translation of some chapters compared to others, but I still loved it from start to end. Sometimes I wonder how I managed to stay so implicated and how I didn't just abandon the project ! But at the end, DLTD is always somehwere in my thoughts, I just can't escape it lol DLTD is a story, a fandom, I can't quite seem to leave. I've been way less into it these past few years, but everytime I came back to it, it felt like home and it still does. I think I've felt almost every emotion with DLTD, and I'm not just talking about the first part, but DLTD as a whole. I don't have the words to drescribe how much this story means to me, how it changed my brain chemistry.

I know the story isn't perfect, God knows I can tell that. But I just accept it with its flaws and kind of cringe parts that are so reminiscent of 2010s ! Without DLTD there is no drawings from me, or at least less, and probably not so much progression. So DLTD saved my imagination in a way, even tho time and energy is missing now that I'm working but I still love to draw for it. Thinking back on those 8 years, I'm amazed to see how obsessed I was with it. I did a comic adaptation of the first chapter, an ending, a parody I never finished with Daniel, dozens of fanart, a discord (that didn't really work but it's still out there !). I met lot of people, including my beta reader YuuKyun whom I haven't heard from for almost 3-4 years now. I really, really hope she is okay and will reappear someday. Big kudos to her, she was so helpful in the early years ! This translation wouldn't exist without @burakkuenjeru19. She is the reason I even started translating it. So kudos to her. She also listened to me yapping about DLTD for all those years, and yapped back so yeah, really kudos. This story has literally marked me. Even today, we still quote the lizard in the toaster from chapter 2 with my friends (iconic !), and more parts of the story. We had so so much fun reading the story together, giving each other a character to voice. We did it again a few weeks ago for old time sake, and it was still so wholesome !! The chapters aren't all out right now, but I'll start posting one chapter per day in december. Wich makes me think ; ever since 2016, I've always had at least 10 chapters of advance on the publication. I think I can take pride in that uwu As for DLTP, I don't know for now if I'll get to it. It's just a whole lot of work, way more than the first part. But I feel like I'll miss it so maybe there's a world where I start the translation of it too. I'm just not making any promesses !

And to end this post, I have to thanks the one and only : @hateweasel

I don't even know what to say to thank you, Hate. You brought to me and to many more people so much with your story and your imagination. Your interest for the surnatural stuck with me and you put it so well into the story, I just love the fact that you don't represent surnaturals as monsters. Yeah, they're people too. I just love this concept !!

I was so, so scared the first time I sent you a message here to ask the permission to post the translation. I think I read my message like 10 times to make sure that there wasn't any mistakes... And then, you helped me tons of time with words, sentences, and parts I didn't get. And you let me have so much liberty with the adaptation of the story in my language, it was really, really great from you, thank you !!

We started talking a lot at some point even with jet lag, and it was really great even tho we had multiple conversation at the same time lol

You made me discover a lot of things outside of DLTD with your blog too, and I'm thankfull for that too.

I just can't thank you enough, and I think everyone else who has read and loved DLTD can say the same. Thank you again, Hate (especially if you read all that) !!!

I'm going to keep on posting the last chapters, and then post drawings here and there I guess, now. Until then, farewell duckies !!

#dltd #devils like to dance #thank you again #and thanks to everyone who read my yapping

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edsboxingglove · 3 months ago

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ed — cowboy au

recently did a drawing of him in somewhat cowboy attire and i’m trying to rack up in my brain on how that would even happen LOL

but i can definitely see him using and forming his psycho powers into a rope to help huddle the cows and sheep!

him country dancing would also a somewhat easy task as he’s already light on his feet

even if he hates the thought of dancing for people, i like to think whenever he’s bored and waiting for the others to finish up their chores

he’ll hum a tune of song—that has been stuck in his head ever since he came across the local bands—and mimic the steps he saw nights ago

bonus points if he’s doing it in the barn as he sweeps up the hay

٩( ᐛ )و

It was another night in the town.

Every night was boring but when it came to the weekends, the whole town loved to celebrate a hard week of work and party with their neighbors.

But of course, parties can turn into hell quickly. Drunks caused commotion and criminals blended in the rowdy crowds, it can be chaotic in an instant. That’s why they were there—the unnamed group that kept things in check when needed. No one had a name for them yet, but they all knew who they were based on the owl logo on their outfits. Whether it would be on their jackets, belts, or hats—they would recognize them.

Ed had been forced to enter a bar of some sorts. It was unlike the ones they had seen before as the area in the middle was huge and crowded by people. The music was played passionately by a band. This bar seemed more for entertainment than mindless drinking. He watched as his group members followed the cheering crowd. He scoffed and soon followed behind. Unlike the others who seemed curious about the ruckus, his eyes trailed over the crowd to see anyone that seemed out of place.

Places like these were a perfect spot to pickpocket mindless bystanders without being caught.

He felt his chest bump into Falke. He looked down at her then followed her strong gaze. There were people dancing. Smiles planted on their faces and their hands colliding with their dance partners. The first thing he noticed was the amount of spinning they loved to do. How was that enjoyable? He could feel a headache coming just by looking at them. But they all seemed to be in sync no matter what. Their footsteps mirrored each others as the clacking of their boots matched the beat of the music. Whistling and cheering were made by the crowds. Encouraging this weird and unnecessary behavior.

The music changed, the couples soon walked off and a new set of dancers eagerly stepped into the dancing area. They hopped to their desired spot and clapped to the beat of the song before swinging their hips to the side and sung with excitement.

Ed’s hand adjusted his belt as he became uncomfortably interested in the dancing. His eyes lead down to their feet and watched the swift and light movements of the dancers. Even after they aggressively stomped on the wooden floor, they were quick enough to spin lightly and continue their footwork.

Soon, gunshots were heard and the crowd erupted into chaos. The band ducked down and soon continued to play. This was a normal occurrence for them. If they got shot, at least they died doing what they loved doing best. At least, that’s what they told the group after they questioned why they were stupid enough to stick around instead of taking cover.

The members soon prepared themselves for a fight.

Ed scoffed in annoyance as he felt people rush by him to leave the bar. He hated how much he was enjoying the show and even was more angered that it was interrupted. His hands adjusted his hat and soon traced over his wrapped knuckles. His eyes looked at the empty dance floor once more before punching the nearest bad guy.

—

Ed stepped into the empty barn and began to lazily sweep up the hay.

Falke had told him it was his turn to clean up the barn as Dobermann had already done it last week. His eyes followed the sticks of hay that began to jumble up after each sweep. Subconsciously, he began to hum out the music from the band. He stopped once he realized and huffed at himself. The song had been stuck in his brain all week and it was irritating. He had another things to focus on yet his brain decided the song was a priority. His hand squeezed the wooden handle, causing his knuckles to turn white. ‘Get a grip.’ He thought to himself and continued to sweep.

His eyes darted at the barn door every second. He stood up straight and looked down at his boots. The images of the dancers played through his mind. For a moment, he stood still and took one last glance at the door before he began to tap his heel.

1-2.. Or was it 1-2-3?

He closed his eyes and softly hummed out the music. 1..2..3..

His left hand held the broom stick for support as he jumped and clacked his heels together once they hit the floor. He took a moment to regain balance and swung his feet into a kicking motion to carry the momentum as he swung and hopped. He now faced the back of the barn and repeated the steps over and over again.

The shed of light creeped into the barn as a furry hand swung it open. “Hey Ed—“ He stopped for a moment and watched as Ed had quickly stumbled and forced himself to straighten up. His hands gripping onto the handle of his broom and his chest heaving with big breathes.

“What were yo—“

“Nothing. What do you want?” He huffed out, his arm wiping off the sweat from his forehead—and to block out the embarrassment that was planted on his face—.

#street fighter #street fighter 6 #ed sf6 #sf6 ed #ed street fighter #first writing post #ed as a cowboy #cowboy au #should’ve been doing my homework instead #this is probably bad writing LOL

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psychedelic-ink · 1 year ago

Text

— PICK ME | FRANKIE'S ENDING

happy belated birthday @pedrito-friskito 💜💜💜💜 this gift is from both me and @inklore we love you so so much and I hope you had the best birthday ever! thank you for always being such a wonderful friend 💗

pairing: frankie morales x f!reader

genre: fluff, mild angst, second chance romance, smut

summary: you decide to head to frankie's. there's still too many emotions lingering between you and it would be a shame not to give it another chance.

warnings: oral (female receiving), a hint of hurt/comfort

word count: 2k

click to head back to the start

You decide to go with Frankie.

You can’t deny the chemistry you have with Santi, and your curiosity might forever gnaw at your brain, but you and Frankie have something special. You just have to see it through before jumping into something else, something new.

Since Frankie’s car broke down prior to the wedding, the two of you take a cab instead.

“Where to?” the cab driver asks and Frankie blanks for a moment, eyes darting to you.

“I. . . actually haven’t thought about where we should go,” he looks sheepish, scratching the back of his head. He’s not wearing his signature ballcap, his hands feeling lost as the nerves start to get the better of him. “Would it be okay if we head to my place? I got wine?”

“Wine sounds good,” you answer with a smile. He lets out a sigh of relief and gives the driver the address, without wait the car drives off from the venue. The first seconds are spent in complete silence, his fingers drumming against his knees while he stares out the window, the lights of the city bouncing off his handsome countenance. You find it endearing. Reaching out, you press your hand against the curve of his knee, fingers squeezing gently. He jumps before turning to you. “Relax,” you say. “It’s okay. You’re not alone in this. I. . . I’ve been thinking about you too.”

“Really?” his genuine surprise breaks your heart. Dark eyes search yours before exhaling a loud breath and collapsing to the seat. “Good, I was worried there for a second.”

“Worried?” you ask. “Why?”

“Well,” he clears his throat. “‘Cause of Pope.”

Oh, so he noticed.

You squeeze his knee again before letting go and settling further into your own seat. “You have nothing to worry about. It’s in the past, whatever it was.”

“You never mentioned it when we were together.”

You’re not sure if he’s accusing you of something but you feel defensive anyway, “I didn’t think it was relevant. And nothing happened.”

You cross your arms and look out the window, familiar silhouette of buildings passes by, bright lights flickering back at you as the shadows grow longer. You feel his hand on your cheek, his thumb drawing gentle lines over your skin as he urges you to look back.

“I didn’t mean it like that, baby, I know nothing happened,” he smiles when you meet his gaze. “I just didn’t know how you felt is all. You could’ve told me, I would have understood.”

“I didn’t think there was anything to tell,” you murmur. “It happened a long time ago, he backed away and I just thought I read the signals wrong. I guess with the wedding he realized he had some regrets.”

“Well, for what it’s worth, I could never back away from you,” his voice falls into a whisper, his fingers sliding to your chin, he tugs you closer. “I’m not that strong, querida. Even tonight I couldn’t pull away from you, even if I know that us staying apart is probably for the best.”

Frankie's words hang in the air. You’re caught off guard, stuck between wanting to console him and wanting to talk about the issues you had while together. The cab's interior seems to shrink around you, your heart shattering as he drops his gaze away from you.

Despite the loss of his gaze, his thumb continues to trace gentle patterns on your chin. His touch comforting. Keeping you grounded.

With a deep breath, you cradle his face with both hands, forcing his gaze back— you close the distance between you, your lips softly meeting his in a kiss that is better from the movies. Time seems to stand still as your lips linger against his, conveying more than words ever could.

When you pull away, a mixture of emotions plays across Frankie's features—surprise, relief, and a lingering trace of uncertainty. His hand drops from your chin to rest on your thigh, his fingers gently squeezing.

"Wow," he breathes, a small smile tugging at his lips. "I wasn't expecting that."

You chuckle softly, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement. "Thank you for always choosing me without hesitation, Frankie. I. . . I appreciate it, no matter how this ends."

“Of course, mi amor, always.”

As the cab approaches Frankie's apartment, he leans in to press a quick, affectionate kiss to your cheek. "I hope you're not regretting this," he says softly, his eyes searching yours once more.

You shake your head, a smile tugging at your lips. "I never could regret you, Frankie."

He nods, seemingly content with your response. The cab comes to a stop in front of his building, and you both step out onto the sidewalk.

You step out of the cab and onto the sidewalk in front of Frankie's apartment building, you're suddenly aware of the cab driver who has been witness to this entire exchange. The reality of the situation makes your cheeks heat up and a nervous laughter bubbles from your lips.

"Uh, sorry about that," you mumble to the cab driver, avoiding eye contact as you scratch the back of your head.

The cab driver chuckles knowingly. "No worries. Just another day in the city, right?"

Before you can respond, you feel Frankie's arm wrap around your waist, pulling you close protectively. His presence is reassuring, and you glance up at him with a shy smile.

"Yeah, just another day," Frankie chimes in, his voice light as he gives you a gentle squeeze. "Thanks for the ride."

The cab driver nods with a grin. "Anytime. Have a great evening, you two."

While the cab pulls away, you and Frankie share a sheepish smile.

"I guess we really made that driver's day," you say, shaking your head in amusement.

Frankie chuckles, his grip on your waist relaxing but still there. With Frankie's arm around you, you make your way into the building and head up to his apartment.

Frankie heads over to the kitchen, rummaging through his cabinets to find the promised bottle of wine. You take a moment to look around his place, feeling a sense of familiarity mixed with anticipation.

"Found it," Frankie announces, holding up a bottle of red wine triumphantly.

You join him in the kitchen, watching as he deftly uncorks the bottle and pours the wine into glasses. The atmosphere is relaxed now, a sense of ease settling between you two which you’re grateful for. You take a sip, watching him from over the rim as he does the same.

“I’ve missed this,” you say silently. “And I’ve missed you.”

Frankie takes another sip with a smile, holding the wine in his mouth, he comes closer and tilts your head up. His eyes search yours momentarily, and knowing the nudge that he needs, you part your lips, “Kiss me.”

And he does.

You part your lips for him, swallowing the wine that pours from his lips, it’s bittersweet as it goes down your throat, some of it spilling from the corners of your lips. You fumble a bit as you put the wine glass down, your hands coming up to fist his shirt as he deepens the kiss with a tilt of his head, licking further into your mouth as if trying to catch the remaining red jewels on your tongue.

You let out an involuntary moan as Frankie deepens the kiss and his hands slide up your legs, pushing your dress up further around your waist. One hand snakes its way around your waist while the other reaches up to caress your face, thumb resting right at the corner of your lips as he softly bites your tongue. His tongue parts your mouth to explore further.

You take in a shuddering breath, Frankie's lips still on yours as your hands coil around his neck tugging him closer to you, your breath coming in short gasps as the intensity of the kiss takes over both of you. His hands move from your face down to your neck, exploring every inch of you, making your body shudder with pleasure.

Frankie slides his hand down your neck and down your torso, leaving a trail of fire in his path. He pulls away from the kiss, pushing your dress up further as he reaches down and slides your underwear down before leaving it in a pile on the kitchen floor. He stands between your legs as he leans down and recaptures your lips with his.

His kisses are hungry, as though he has been waiting patiently for this moment for weeks, ravenous in his eagerness to taste you. His tongue tangles with yours, exploring the depths of your mouth as though it was his first time. You feel yourself shudder over and over as he gives your lower lip a gentle suck and nibble, sending warmth down your spine.

“God, I can’t get enough of you, querida,” he whispers into your mouth. You yelp when he roughly tugs down the neckline of your dress, exposing your breasts to him, both tingling and aching to feel his mouth. “Look at that, so hard for me,” he groans as the pads of his thumbs feel the pebbled flesh

He works his way down, planting kisses along your neck and shoulder before paying special attention to your nipples, gently flicking them with his tongue and sucking on them making you gasp out in pleasure. His hands come up to cup your face as he slides his tongue down your stomach, licking and tasting you until he reaches your core, his mouth parting and devouring every inch of you.

Frankie's tongue slides between your folds, exploring every inch of you, and you arch your back into him, a loud moan easily slipping from your lips. His tongue delves deeper, licking along the edges of your entrance before curling around your clit. Your eyes roll back and your jaw falls open, your chest heaving at the pressure of his mouth.

He stops for a moment, teasing you further before pushing into you with his tongue, his wetness making you gasp in pleasure. “Are you feeling good, baby?” he murmurs with a humorous lilt. “Sounds like you are.” You grab his shoulders and grip them tightly as Frankie circles your clit with his tongue, gently tugging on it in a constant rhythm, his deep chuckle reverberates in your cunt, making you moan out loud.

Frankie adds his fingers, pushing two inside you, gently spreading you open wider as he licks and sucks your clit. His touch is gentle, but insistent, and he sends wave after wave of pleasure coursing through your body.

“F-Frankie—I’m gonna–” you can’t even finish your sentence before another moan breaks from you. He briefly looks up to you, smiling.

“Come on then, sweetheart, don’t keep me waiting,” his breath fans your soaked core and you tremble. “I want every single drop.”

You cry out, your hips pushing against his hand as he increases the pressure and tempo, his tongue and his fingers working in tandem to take you to the brink of orgasm. You moan his name, desperate for relief, and he doesn't disappoint as he sucks on your clit, sending you over the edge and into a blissful state of ecstasy. Your entire body clenches, flooding his mouth simultaneously as your muscles go lax. He laps at your cunt, tasting every drop.

“That’s it, that’s my good fucking girl, making a mess for me—” he groans, giving your clit one final suck before coming back up to your eye line with a lazy smile.

Once the waves of pleasure have finally subsided, you collapse against him, completely spent. He wraps his arms around you, holding you close, and it's in this moment that you realize it’s always going to be Frankie by your side. You can’t imagine feeling this safe and comfortable with anyone else.

Frankie's breath tickles your ear, “How about we head to bed and I can really show you how much I’ve missed you.”

“Hmm,” you smile, pulling away from the warmth of his chest. “Not if I show you how much I’ve missed you first.”

#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x fem!reader #triple frontier fic #triple frontier fanfiction #pedro pascal character fic #pedro pascal characters

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beifong-brainrot · 2 months ago

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Beifong babies ask like you asked <3

I feel as if the person I’ve seen you least talk about is Huan. Do you have any thoughts on him, either in relation to Kuvira or his interest in art? I’m sorry I can’t be more specific rn, my brain is…very frazzled. as expected 😭

I actually have SO MANY thought about Huan, I just never had the time and place to file them away. I've always liked Huan, and thought he could've been an incredibly intriguing character with a lot of potential. I can confidently say he probably was concieved primarily as a gimmick character, a bit of a jab at 'edgy', modernist artists. However, Huan has a lot of potential as a character and an exploration of themes.

First of all, Huan is interesting becaus he is one of the few "pacifist" benders of the show. This is especially intriguing due to him coming from a family with such a prominent amount of bender fighters. I wonder if he ever felt pressured to be a fighter too, or if he feels inadequate due to following a different path.

I personally like to think that Su gently pushed Huan to be fighter too, when he was a child, due to her own upbringing, which I imagine had Toph valuing her daughters careying on her legacy. But Huan was too much of a tender and sensitive soul, and didn't like the idea of destroying or fighting. I like to think he spent a lot of time with Aiwei, who nurtured his individualism, talents and hobbies. I like to think Aiwei was the one to help convince Su to let Huan pursue his artistic interests.

Due to this, Huan and Aiwe were always pretty close when Huan was growing up. So I think Huan ended up absorbing some of the Red Lotus' teachings about individuality and freedom.

For some reason, I think Huan would be a good big brother to his younger siblings. He cares a lot for Opal, Wei and Wing even if he doesn't show it often. I think for most their lives he just kinda let them do their own thing and was pretty antisocial, until the shit with Kuvira happened. Huan was one of the only people to see how affected Opal and the twins were by the betrayals of Baatar Jr and Kuvira and the danger their family was put in. He also felt srather guilty when his little siblings were out there risking their lives while all he could do was evacuate.

This motivated Huan to step up as a big brother and try to 'defend' them from Suyin trying to 'fix' the family and Baatar and Kuvira.

I also like that he seems so good with kids and enjoys spending time with them. Its a sweet. And it seems like it makes sense that he would value Ikki's childish doodles, since children just playing with colours and shapes is a very pure form of creativity.

Huan's relationship with freedom of self expression and individuality is also domething that caught my attention, especially in relation to Kuvira's regime and especially his infamous "crushing my individuality" line.

Sure, this line is objectively really funny, and pretty memeable. But let's add some context that adds themes I'm 78% sure weren't intended.

I've spoken at length about how Kuvira draws heavily from the Soviet union. I've also probably mentioned how my high school had a focus on humanistics, particularly Polish literature, although what I'm about to discuss extends far beyond Poland. And one of the 'eras' of literature and art that stuck with me the most was the period of time when Poland was the Polish People's Republic, essentially under the thumb of the Soviets. For creativity, it meant what you might expect. Basically, a mandate on almost every piece of music, literature and visual arts to be essentially Soviet propaganda.

I, as you may guess, dislike the time period with a passion. But some of my favourite novels and works of art have come about as a response to the danger the Soviets posed to creativity. It's fascinating to see what creators chose to bend the knee and alter their works to go through rigorous censorship, and what creators chose to resist, often getting blacklisted if not worse.

Many wrote bleak, heartwtenching stories about the death of art in the Eastern Bloc and how it impacted society as a whole. The emptiness of the propagandised happiness, the false idols of theatre and movies, the cheapness of it all, the ridiculous censorship that often contradicted itself.

I think Huan, being an artist could've been a very good vessel for exploring these concepts and storylines, especially with how self expression and creativity is still often censored and attacked irl, most visibly by conservatives in the USA. [Damn I asked for asks on the Beifong babies and weilin to escape the shitshow across the pond yet here I am]

We are especially entering a new era of war on our rights to express ourselves as different groups begin to try to control and restrict how we create and consume content in the still relatively new medium that is the entire internet. This could be something poignat to have been touched on.

These may be concepts that would be difficult to explore in a show like tlok. But atla was able to allude to the concept of propaganda and Huan was the perfect vessel for a mini storyline like this. Exploring Huan's identity as an artist and creator would be a huge benefit to the show, judging by how many people in the fandom have their own creative inclinations and how tlok as a show encouraged us to follow in Korra's footsteps to push through diversity to achieve freedom and enlightenment. Why should self expression by seperate from that equation?

Anyway :/ those are my Huan thoughts which kinda poured out due to how much I've been stewing in them lol. Thanks for the ask I always love recieving them especially if they have something to do with the Beifong Babies. Today was a rough day and I appreciate the distraction and chance to ramble.

#haha humanistic studies jumpscar wooohooo #*holding myself back from talking about witkacy libero and miłosz lmao*#huan beifong #aiwei #suyin beifong #kuvira #avatar #legend of korra #tlok #the legend of korra #avatar the legend of korra #atlok #lok #beifong brainrot

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