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#I POSTED IT AND IT MOVED MY IMAGE TO THE BOTTOM WHY
impostorsshow · 8 months
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Hi I nailed down more stuff for my Omori au including the design for whitespace Jack so here's the basic stuff about it
Jack has curly hair because that's my personal headcanon, if anyone wants to work off of my interpretation but doesn't agree like do whatever Jack is bald in canon I do not care also if I Knew How to do bullet points I Would
I am well aware that Jack and the rest of the crew in DSaF are grown ass men, but the storyline of Omori simply wouldn't work if Sunny was a 30 year old rotting corpse so forgive me for making everyone teens
Dee takes the place of Mari. Her "Something" form is the puppet, I just forgot to draw her normal appearance here because I wanted to post something about this in order to continue being motivated enough to draw, my forte with aus is words - but she has hair the same shade as peters shown above that's about medium length past the shoulders and that red scarf, probably a pink skirt and wears a sweater of some sort
Peter takes the Place of Basil - he is still Dee and Jack's older brother, but panicked and the only thing he could think of when he found Jack and Dee was to not have his little brother get caught, and helped him. Now, he avoids Jack around the house at all times, not being able to stand what he done, knowing now that he's older and has a management job at the local pizza place and a girlfriend he's too nervous to pop the question to, that Jack probably would have been fine since it was an accident. Appearance wise, he is not. Y'know a phone head but ever since the incident happened, whenever Jack tried to approach him Peter took out his phone and pretended to be busy. His hair is naturally curly like Jack's, but he straightens it before he goes to Fazbenders because it "looks unprofessional, and his employees slack off too much anyway, especially the older ones. Someone has to be setting a standard so they work harder." Peter is the entire reason that one business part of whitespace exists and it's fazbenders instead of casino sharks
Jack is Omori/Sunny, going by "Old Sport" in whitespace. Furthermore, Blackjack is Mewo, and whitespace Jack has a dulled version of Blackjacks tie to indicate the connection between them. I've never played Omori myself and need to, but Jack is the only thing in the world with these colors. Bright stain your eyes yellow exists but the dulled dirty yellow does not, and neither does blackjacks rich dark purple color. On the contrary, while teal and blue seems to be incredibly common in the game, the most common colors are a soft red and lavender.
I honestly haven't planned out who Aubrey is, but the reason for that is that I can't decide whether Dave fits better as Aubrey [fully because of Henry] or Kel. I am leaning toward Kel though because I don't know who would be the first person to go seek Jack out other than him
Wait if Dave could be Kel then who's Hero you ask-? No one. Hero doesn't exist, the closest he gets to existing is Steven in whitespace because I can't tell the phone guys apart because I want to make Peter hero, but in order for him to be Basil Peter needs to be missing- I might make Hero or whitespace Basil Harry at some point, though. Suggestions are welcome since I have no clue
I actually really want to learn how to make a mod so I could mod. Omori in order to tell this au but I don't know how and I don't even know if Omo-Cat would allow that for their game so. I can at least redraw screenshots eventually though
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gumified · 4 months
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satoru being a desperate mess for you
content: dom!reader, sub!satoru, modern au, orgasm denial, praise, satoru being a cutie <3
note: tumblr still not letting me post images TT hopefully they reply to my email, pray for me !!!
//
if any one of satoru's friends could see him right now they definitely wouldn’t recognise the whining boy that’s begging to cum. according to the things that satoru gojo tells his popular jock friends, he's the dominant one in bed and you're always a moaning mess under him. emphasis on the under him. 
only a few know that satoru gojo is a submissive whimpering bundle of nerves when he's met with you. sure, he's the popular guy at university and everyone knows what's up with him but put his girlfriend in front of him and he instantly melts. you are the only thing that makes satoru turn into a stuttering boy begging for his release. and that is exactly what he is right now.
"y/n…" he whines, hands struggling against the handcuffs that bind him. you're smirking as you sit in his cock, slowly dragging your hips up and down. you've been edging him on and denying him of his orgasm for so long that he thinks he's about to go crazy. "y-y/n! fuck!"
the rhythmic slapping of skin on skin has your skin crawling with lust as you listen to the lewd sounds. satoru continues to beg and struggle. he's panting, and you drag your fingers up his chest, drawing small circles that make him shiver. his thighs quiver as you ride him, cock throbbing inside of you. he moans, throwing his head back and bucking his hips to create more friction. the handcuffs restrict him from touching your body and he just wants to feel you, wants to touch your soft skin.
"aren't you just adorable?" you coo, noticing the way his cheeks flush pink and his mouth hangs open slightly. "my pretty boy."
there's something that sparks inside you whenever you hear your boyfriend lose control and plead for you. it makes you see nothing but him. you continue to slide down on his cock, occasionally grinding your hips on his which makes satoru groan. it hurts so bad and he wants to cum. he wants to cum so bad. 
"heard your friends talking about how good you fuck me." he tenses beneath you. "baby, you didn't tell them that i'm the one doing the fucking? that you're the one that turns into a sobbing mess?" satoru gulps and shakes his head nervously. he doesn't know how you'll react and he hopes you don't do what he thinks you're going to do. a wicked grin twitches at your lips and you stop your movements which causes him to let out a desperate whimper. you give him a pout. "that's bad toru. you're not a bad boy are you?"
"n-no…"
you smirk, walls clenching around his cock as you reach over to unlock him from his handcuffs. "why don't you show me how good you are?" 
satoru's eyes widen with shock but you see the underlying desire. he looks at you, bringing his bottom lip in between his teeth. you’re so pretty and he can’t help but stare at your body, taking in every curve in front of him. his hands grip your waist, rocking you back and forth, slowly at first, before speeding up a tiny bit. you moan his name, showering him with praises. it feels so good, the warmth in his hands spreading across your body and the way his cock slides in and out of you makes you keen with pleasure. 
"shit!" he groans. "i-i…i’m so close, so so close, hnghh, y/n i’m gonna - a-ah!" 
he's at a loss for words as he babbles desperately, hands still on your waist as he guides you up and down. you grin cockily and lean in to give him a kiss, one that starts soft but quickly deepens, throwing him into an intense frenzy. your lips move against his with a passionate rhythm, tongues tangling, and the heat between you escalating. the sight of him losing control, eyes closed, breath hitching, and hands gripping you tighter, sends a thrill through your body.
"baby you're doing so well." you moan, pulling him closer to your body. another whimper escapes satoru's throat and this time it's strangled and he's desperate to cum. you feel his huge cock throb and twitch inside of you and you know he's close. you speed up your movements and allow him to moan and unwind in front of you. 
"y-y/n please let me cum, p-please!" he begs, a sob wracking his throat. his hands clutch at you with a frantic urgency, his entire body shaking with the intensity of his need.
you trace kisses up the column of his neck, whispering the words you knew he would hate to hear. "no."
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impale-me-radio-daddy · 6 months
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The Lookalike
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☒ Summary: The first thing you remembered after your death was an argument. “No, this isn’t one of my fucking sluts.” The man behind you exhaled, frustrated. “This is a present for you. Something to help you work through your Alastor fixation.” You awaken in Hell as the near-spitting image of a certain infamous radio host. Unfortunately for you, you immediately fall into the clutches of his nemesis. 
☒ Warnings: hermaphrodite!reader, deer!reader, crying!reader, they/them pronouns used, explicit content, reader is in Hell for a reason, Valentino, canon typical scenarios.
☒ Author's note: This is now a complete series! Part I Part2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 6 BONUS SCENE Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Epilogue
The first thing you remembered after your death was an argument.
“What the fuck, Val? You can’t just come in here and dump a fucking body on my fucking floor. Christ.” The first voice was a man’s, the intonation weary rather than angry. He walked towards you, each footstep reverberating through the floor and through your tender skull. “Look, I don’t want to be in the same room with you right now.”
“This isn’t a body.” The second man spoke from behind you, and you could practically hear him rolling his eyes. Dimly, you took stock of your situation. You were on the floor. Your head hurt. Your body felt weird.
“One of your sluts, then. I don’t fucking care, just get it out of here.”
“No, this isn’t one of my fucking sluts.” The man behind you exhaled, frustrated. “This is a present for you. Something to help you work through your Alastor fixation.”
No, your body wasn’t just painful, but really weird, like all of your joints weren’t quite where you remembered them. You were pretty sure your ears were in the wrong place. What had happened?
“Oh, fuck you, Val. I don’t have a-” The man in front of you stopped mid sentence, an audible intake of breath. “Oh. Oh, fuck. What the fuck, Val?”
The second man made a pleased noise deep in his throat, and laughed. “See? I know what you really want.”
“Fuck me, that’s, uh, some resemblance.” The first man’s voice slowed, tone shifting from annoyance to something closer to awe. He moved closer, and you felt the air shift as he crouched next to you, getting a closer look. “Where did you get them?”
“We had some idiots posted near the east side boundary who were meant to look out for Alastor. This one was just lying in the street. Wrong color, but you know the saying- life gives you lemons, you see how many you can insert into one slut.”
“Fucking hell.” The first man leaned in closer, and you squinted open your eyes. Blue was most of what you could see. Glowing blue. He placed a hand on your shoulder, and you gave an involuntary sound, a static crackle and a whine like a capacitor with a faulty mount. “Oh fuck, they even sound like him! Val!”
“Whatever you say, snookums.” Val exhaled again, the air moving as he walked away. “Pheremones on the cabinet if you need them, you can thank me when you’re done with your new toy.”
“Where am I?” you asked, your voice feeling deeply unfamiliar, a coarse, crackling edge to it. Groggily, you lifted your head, still squinting. The man who had stayed was glowing blue, and you squinted at him uneasily, your eyes not quite working as you expected. Where were your glasses? “Who are you?”
“Oh, fuck, that voice is so fucking close. This is so great. Hey, can you look at me real quick?” A blue hand caught the bottom of your chin, guiding your head, and you found yourself staring into a rectangle of blue. “Can you say I’m sorry Vox?”
“Who’s Vox?” you asked, genuinely puzzled. “Why are you a television?”
“Ohh fuck.” The man let your chin drop, withdrawing his touch. “You really are new here, aren’t you? Fucking Val.” He sighed, and as your eyes adjusted further, you could see his face was digital, a pattern dancing across the screen. “Alright, first off, I’m Vox. Let’s get you up.”
His hand around your forearm, Vox helped you to your feet. Which you didn’t have. You had hooves. You looked away, feeling faintly nauseous, and nearly tripped as soon as you were standing, only Vox’s arm holding you up. You made another sound of distress, a static whine.
“Hey, hey.” Vox’s tone shifted again, from his previous intense interest in you to something softer. “You’ll be okay. Let’s get you to the bed.”
Stumbling, you made it to the bed, and Vox lowered you carefully onto the sheets. They were a dark blue, the thread count so high they were almost silky to the touch.
You pulled your legs up onto the bed and started feeling the length of them with your fingers, the familiar knee to the unfamiliar cleft of the hoof, your panic continuing to rise. “What’s happening to me? Is this even real?”
“Fuck me that’s hot,” breathed Vox, his gaze on your hooves for a moment before he tore it away. He sat beside you, hesitating before placing a hand on your shoulder. “Yes, this is real. Everyone goes through this, y’know. I’m a fuckin-” he gestured to his face. “You get used to it.”
Alarm flooded your body. Used to this? With your legs too long, and your ears- and whatever the fuck was growing out of the top of your head- you didn’t even want to think about that. Tears welled up hot in your eyes, and you swallowed down a sob, something that came out sounding like the pop of a small capacitor bursting.
Vox watched you with a hungry fascination. “Hey,” he said, reaching across to brush the wetness from your cheeks. “It’s hard. Fuck, I know it’s hard. Let me take care of you, okay? I can take care of you.” His arm snaked around your shoulders, and you found yourself pressed against Vox’s chest, his other hand a gentle pressure at the small of your back. Vox smelled faintly of hot plastic and windex, but his body was warm, and welcoming, and you nuzzled into his collar as the tears came, half static sobs that shook from your diaphragm up through your shoulders.
“Hey, baby deer, it’ll be okay.” Vox’s palm smoothed your back, rubbing slow circles over your shoulderblades as you cried. “I’ll take good care of you, you’ll see.” His claws went to your collar, undoing the top button of your shirt with thumb and forefinger.
You looked down, surprised, as Vox undid the second button. “What are you-”
You paused, staring into his eyes as you considered your situation. The other guy had dragged you here as a gift. Vox clearly wanted sex. He was warm and his hands were deft, and you were all alone in a strange new place. You had one piece of leverage, and that was your resemblance to whoever this Alastor guy was. Your best bet, realistically, was to play dumb, spread your legs, and negotiate once you had a better grasp of the situation. Or murder him in his sleep, either worked. If you started asking too many questions you risked Vox realizing you had a brain.
“What are you thinking?” Vox asked, hands paused over the third button of your shirt.
What was the dumbest, sluttiest answer you could give to that? You thought fast, improvising. “How do I kiss you?” you asked, blinking away tears. “I mean, can you kiss-”
Vox gave a toothy, slightly superior grin. “Oh, that? C’mere.” Saying that, he put his hand on the back of your head, and pulled you close. Your nose nearly touching the screen, you could feel the heat of him. He was bright so you closed your eyes, your lips pressing against the flatness. And then. Lips. A curve in the glass, and an opening. He probed his tongue against your lips, and you opened your mouth for him, letting him inside. The feel of his tongue was like the surface of the screen but more intense, a throbbing electrical signal as it twined against yours. His tongue was also huge, large enough to fill your mouth and extend down your throat, though Vox didn’t push, letting it instead extend between you, the length dripping with saliva. He kept one hand in your hair, the other on your back, and you found yourself crawling into his lap, sitting astride his thighs as you kissed. Your whole body was unfamiliar, but arousal took the edge off, a pulse that ran through your core and-
“Oh-” you breathed, breaking the kiss, becoming aware of the unfamiliar sensation in your own pants. An aching tightness and a pulsing slickness.
Vox withdrew his tongue, his expression one of concern. His gaze followed yours down to your pants, and a triumphant look returned. “Yeah, I have that effect on people.”
“I- I think I have more parts than I used to.” You swallowed, the static in your voice crackling. “Is that normal? Does everyone-”
“Show me.” Vox’s response was instant, and when you hesitated, his hand went to your waist, encouraging. A little shimmying later and you were on your back, naked from the waist down, cock engorged, cunt dripping.
“Oh, fuck. Fuck me. Fucking hell.” Vox’s screen glitched slightly as he knelt between your knees, his stare frank and hungry. “That is. Oh, man.”
You closed your eyes, feeling yourself heat under his gaze, tears threatening to well in your eyes again. “Does it… it’s not weird?”
“You are perfect,” said Vox, with the absolute conviction of a man about to ruin his own pants. He crawled up over your body, pushing your unbuttoned shirt open, his touches on your skin almost reverent, the static field from his screen making the fine hairs on your chest stand on end. He kissed you again, giving a groan of satisfaction as his clothed erection pressed against yours. But being exposed like this, even under worshipful eyes, was hard, and you felt the telltale ache in your throat, your face wet with tears as Vox pulled back a little.
He didn’t scold you but hushed you, hand gentle on your damp cheek. “It’s okay, I’m gonna take such good care of you, you’ve got no idea. So you just relax and leave it to me.”
Slowly, you nodded, looking up at him. Crying hadn’t been your plan, but it seemed to be helping.
“Fuck, man, those eyes.” Vox made a noise, continuing under his breath as he undid his belt. “I didn’t know those eyes could look so trusting, fuck me. You’re fucking beautiful, you know that?”
The tip of his cock was the same luminescent blue as his tongue, the shaft darker. He held your knees under his arms and pushed into you, his stare for you as greedy as it had been from the moment he first saw you, and as good as his word he was gentle with your body, the strokes sweet and slow. You knew intellectually that his gaze was for some guy who happened to look like you, but even so, it was hard not to get caught up in the moment, not with the attention he paid to you, optimizing the slow roll of his hips to hit the good spots inside you as his fist closed over your cock, pumping in time.
A soft mewl escaped you, the first sound you had made without the static filter, and Vox grinned. “See? I’m taking good care of you, aren’t I?”
“Y-yes,” you managed. The way he was fucking you made it difficult to form a coherent sentence.
“Say my name. Say Yes, Vox.”
“Y-ye-” you gave a whimper mid word as he hit the good spot inside you again, palm tightening around your shaft. You swallowed, and tried again. “Yes, Vox- ah!” You felt a twitch from his cock as you said his name, a line of broken pixels down his screen.
“Oh, fuck me, that’s the good stuff.” Vox made a staccato groan, fingers briefly tighter around your shaft. “Tell me you’re sorry, and you should have joined my team.”
“I’m s-s-” Sorry vanished into white noise as Vox set a harsher pace for the two of you, the roll of his hips becoming a snap, making your breath catch as your pleasure built. “I’m sorry Vox, it was a mistake, I should have joined you-”
“You’ve joined me now though, haven’t you? Gonna cum on my cock,” said Vox, with the absolute conviction of a man who could already feel the twitch of your cunt around him.
“Fuck,” you whimpered, feeling sensation crest. You hadn’t expected to cum, not in this unfamiliar body with this unfamiliar man, but the combination of his intensity and the dexterity with which he fucked you proved your undoing, sensation pulled tight through the core of you.
Vox’s expression was an indulgent leer. “That’s right, baby, let go,” he said, and you could only give soft animal and radio interference noises in response as he tipped you over your edge. Your orgasm was a hot white second of nothing but bliss that left your new body trembling and twitching. You came over your own stomach and chest, Vox giving a groan of his own when he saw it. “Fuck me that’s a fucking work of art.”
With you spent he worked on his own end, both hands on your hips, fucking a brisk rhythm into you that had you whimpering through your aftershocks.
“Alastor,” Vox groaned as he came, his eyes glazed as he looked down at you. His spasm into you was another new sensation, a staticky sort of frisson run through you, a shiver through your core and up your spine as his cock pulsed inside you.
You stayed in that position for a few moments, both of you still and panting, Vox not yet soft inside you, still holding your legs under his arms. Tentatively, your reached out and touched his forearm, and this stirred him out of his fugue. “Shit,” he said, blinking. “Right, uh, don’t move.” Gingerly, he withdrew from you, your cunt giving one last echo of a spasm in protest, and you watched him from the bed as he retreated into the bathroom, returning with a damp towel and tissues. “Let’s get you cleaned up,” he said.
Vox lay alongside you, wiping your cum from your chest with an attentiveness that was equal to any he had shown while fucking you. His strange, rectangular head was warm when the sides brushed against your skin, and you found yourself scooting a little closer to his body. You caught a glimpse of a pleased expression on his face before he pushed a finger under your chin and you tilted your head back so that he could clean the last of the cum from your collarbones and neck. True to his word, he was taking good care of you. Maybe you wouldn’t have to murder him in his sleep after all.
“So, who is Alastor, anyway?” you asked. Vox froze, but you pushed a little further. “I mean, if I’m pretending to be him, it’s better if I know, right?”
“Oh, man.” Vox gave a deep sigh. “Fuck, where do I even start?”
You nestled closer to him, tucking your head against his shoulder, and after a little awkward adjustment, he settled with his arms around you. He radiated heat, and you felt yourself relaxing at the physical contact, your heart rate and your breathing slowing. Tilting your head back, you brushed your nose against the outer frame of Vox’s head, and he gave a soft sigh of contentment. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” you said, playing the ingénue.
“No, no, you’re right.” Vox tilted his head, his strange lips brushing against the tips of your ears and making you shiver. “It’s a long story, but I guess you should know.”
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monakisu · 9 months
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I want you to know that I came across a random post of your Death Note art, went "Awww, oh my gosh, with the way this person draws Light I think Akechi would look fantastic in the same style!", clicked onto your profile, and then saw your newest artwork was Akechi. I'm still kind of cackling over it and thought maybe you'd find it funny too. Your art is SO cute, I'm very happy I found it <333
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HAHA THAT’S AMAZING (<< was an akechi artist wayyyy before i fell head over heels for light)
but rlly… theyre so similar:
- brunet
- asshole
- pretty boy
- mass murderer
- black-haired homoerotic rival
at the end of the day, the key difference is one is a top and the other is a bottom.
ok but seriously, they’re vastly different characters on a fundamental level:
- light was handed everything him on a silver platter: family, friends, looks, intellect, a comfortable life… as a bastard child of a sex worker and now an orphan, goro had to fight his way to his current position and will always harbor a terrible sense of inferiority (light is completely confident in his absolute superiority, Always (that’s why the challenge of L sent him off the deep end of obsession lol))
- light genuinely sees himself as a hero, while goro would like to feel the same but is nonetheless depressingly aware of his villain’s journey (his undesirable position as the detective vs the underdog phantom thieves, his string of assassinations, his ultimate dirty bloody goal, etc.).
- light’s motive is about the world’s salvation, cleansing, the birth of his ideal reality (very messianic of him with the slightest loving tinge of mary cradling her lamb hahaha) while goro is laser-focused on ruining this one asshole’s life in particular, vengeance and revenge at once! one’s focused on rebirth, and the other gunning straight for death! they both use murder to get what they want but light probably floats around thinking himself so clean and divine as mother of the world (ignorance is bliss) while goro is constantly desperately trying to cover up his suspiciously red hands with his gloves hehehe… they’re both constantly striving for perfection, just with varying levels of self-awareness!!
- goro is a canonical loner; light has a horde of friends; this is probably due to a difference in public persona! goro is an untouchable idea of what he thinks a human should be and is completely out of the loop when it comes to normal social interactions (believes opening with hegel will instantly endear himself to the average person (luckily he inflicted that upon akira who is decidedly not average in the slightest)), light is implied to be more down-to-earth and even slightly goofy (he’s gaming decorum like an advanced speedrunner)! it’s probably good how distant goro is, because getting any closer to him will allow you to see how off-putting and uncanny he is, sorta like an AI-generated image—seams in the wrong places and far too much teeth LOL. meanwhile light has this whole shebang so thoroughly figured out that he’s BORED with it all! he’d like to move on to the next game (with L), thank you!! light definitely still exudes uncanny creepiness (it’s his natural state of being) especially when he zones out or starts hysterically cackling out of nowhere at his own thoughts, but he’s a hundred times better at masking compared to goro due to a better upbringing. goro is starved for the adoring friends he sees akira easily picking up one after another; light couldn’t give less of a shit because he’s always had those trivial luxuries! he’d much rather prefer an adoring WORLD!!
- then there’s the difference in how they die… one started out surrounded with company but ultimately died alone, while it’s the opposite for the other (if you count the de-realization of maruki’s reality as goro’s “death” (which i don’t)).
- in conclusion, light and goro are like funhouse mirror reflections of each other!!! one is a pampered lapdog getting a taste of rabies and letting loose, while the other is a starving wolf trying to domesticate itself for treats and headpats!! and i <3 them both!!!!!
anyways i may be wrong about light because im going purely off of fics, tumblr shitposts, and my own imagination :] feel free to school me in a way that won’t destroy my delusions!
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imyourbratzdoll · 4 months
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𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒅𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒍
part 2 of 🌧️welcome to hell🌧️
summary - after catching your husband and best friend, you struggle with the negative thoughts that attack your mind.
warning - mentions of cheating, negative thoughts, self-hate, betrayal.
the gif I use isn't mine, headers by me.
part 1 - part 3
Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.
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Your thoughts were running wild as tears continued rolling down your face, your lip bleeding from all the biting you were doing. You ignored the pain as your teeth dug once again into your bottom lip, you didn’t want him to hear you. You couldn’t confront him right now, your chest felt like it had been stabbed a thousand times and then someone had reached inside, gripping your heart, and squeezing.
You clutched your hands close to you as you lean forward, mouth falling open into a silent scream, tears rapidly falling before quiet sobs escape and your hands move to grip the sheets. Him fucking her kept replaying on repeat, like a broken record. Your head tilted back as you continued to cry, vision blurry as tears filled them and you stared up at the ceiling. Questions continued to intrude your mind alongside the image of them.
Why weren’t you good enough? 
Why did they do this? 
Was this the first time? 
Could you have done better to stop this from happening?
Maybe if you were prettier than her, he wouldn’t have cheated.
Your thoughts continue to attack you and you quickly pull the blanket to your mouth as you sob into it, clenching your eyes shut, more tears slipping out from the force and pain. After a few more minutes of crying, you had finally begun to calm down, only a couple more tears slipped from your eyes.
You looked down at your left hand, staring brokenly at your wedding and engagement ring. Did the vows you two spoke mean nothing to him? You played with your rings as you thought back to your wedding day, realising something you probably should’ve on the day.
You were standing there, looking at yourself in the full-length mirror. Your eyes were scanning your wedding dress with a soft smile as you felt like a princess. Your gaze snapped up as the door opened and Sarah stumbled in with a smile, her hair slightly ruffled and her lipstick smudged. She looked up at you and smiled– Looking back at it, the smile didn’t look at all friendly, it leaned more towards it being a smile someone gives you when they know something you don’t, one that seemed almost malicious. 
“Sorry, I got a bit caught up.” Sarah bit her lip, moving closer. “Oh! I ran into Johnny on the way back and he looked good. He didn’t seem like he had cold feet or anything.”
You smile, sighing happily. “Yeah?”
She nods, fixing her makeup and hair in the mirror before turning to you. “Yeah, he really seems to love you, Y/n.” When you walked down the aisle, his hair was slightly tousled, and you missed the lipstick stain hidden in the collar of his shirt. You were too blinded on your wedding day, eyes and heart filled with love and dreams. If you weren’t so blind, you would’ve seen the looks the two were giving each other. 
You blink out of the memory, realising this whole time it was before your eyes, but you were too blind. You thought Johnny had changed from what everyone knew him as, but he had just found new ways to lie. You crawl to the side of your bed and reach underneath it, pulling out a photo album filled with your wedding photos. Sitting back, you open it and begin to flick through, your eyes narrowed as you search for something, anything. You don’t know if you want to confirm your memory or not, but you couldn’t stop yourself as you continued to flick through every single photo. Analysing every little detail like your life depended on it.
You stopped, your hand slightly shaking as you stared down at one. It was a close up of you and Johnny, your eyes zeroed in on the small stain inside his collar, the colour matching awfully close to the one your best friend was wearing on the day. You flicked to another photo, your breath catching as you notice how close they are in this photo, they had been getting food and you didn’t think much of it. But now, as you stare down at the photo, you realise it wasn’t normal for them to be THAT close, with THAT look on their faces. Their fingers seemed to be brushing and your heart clenched because at this point, you were married. He CHEATED on you on your WEDDING day. He cheated with your BEST FRIEND… She betrayed you… They betrayed you.
You choke up when you remember a conversation you overheard from one of his friends.
“Damn, did you guys see the chick Johnny went home with during his bachelor party last night?!” The guy whistled as if he was imagining the woman. “She was so fucking hot! I think she’s close with Y/n? She’s that one–”
“Yeah, yeah! I know who ya talkin’ about! She’s fuckin’ fine!” Another one of his friends chimed in, “You’re tellin’ me he managed to score her before the big day?!”
“Yeah! Apparently, she’s so good, he’s gonna keep seeing her.” There was a pause. “Which should be easy for him seeing as his soon–to–be wife is close to the woman.” 
You didn’t know why you had forgotten that conversation, maybe somewhere deep down you were hoping they were talking about another Johnny, another Y/n, another wedding. It was as though your mind and heart worked together to stop you from being hurt. You wouldn’t have gone through with the wedding if you knew he fucked your best friend at his bacholer party! You would’ve been saved from the hurt from what happened afterwards. You would’ve never caught them, you would’ve never remembered her coming in after doing god knows what with him on your wedding day.
He said he loved you with a knife against your throat. All his words and promises began to feel like nothing, because that was what they were. Nothing. They never had any meaning behind them, the only person who thought they did was you. You had been fooled all this time. You wondered why he still never slept with you after your wedding night. Was he sleeping with her this whole time? You rarely saw her, so they would’ve had to meet up secretly. Was she that much better than you that it caused him to just never want to sleep with you again? Or was it in some twisted way, his way of being faithful to her, even though you held his last name? 
You hadn’t realised you had started crying again, still so softly as to not alert the man in the house. Your body began to feel weak and drained, with the last bit of energy you could muster, you slipped the photo album back into place before drifting off into a nightmare filled sleep. 
You had woken up ten minutes before Sarah got back, you decided to pretend things were slightly normal for now until you could figure out what to do. You let yourself wake up before heading down to the lounge room, sitting with Johnny, you stare blankly at the game on the screen. The front door opened and from the corner of your eye, you watched as your husband became excited when he heard it. It was strange… Before you never even noticed the smallest things, now it seemed as though everything had enhanced. 
Sarah walked into the room, and you watched as her eyes landed on Johnny first before she even noticed you. You watched as her demeanour immediately changed and she flashed you a very fake smile. You returned it, even though your face was fighting against the action. It felt you weren’t even there when she sat close to your husband. You felt like an outsider in your own home, your own marriage. You watched as they acted like this was routine for them, like it was natural. You felt like you weren’t the one married to him. You didn’t know what hurt more. 
Your thoughts ran wild as the three of you sat there, watching the screen. Well, you were watching the screen… 
What were you going to do?
How were you going to get through this? 
Would this be your life if you couldn’t find anywhere to go? Couldn’t find it in yourself to leave? 
Would you one day wake to your best friend telling you she’s pregnant, but never mentioning the father. Only for you to know and watch as your husband dotes on his child with another woman. 
Would you ever find love again if you left? 
Could you even leave? 
How long were people expected to leave when they’ve found out their partner is cheating on them? Immediately? Weeks? Months? Years? 
Could you really be alone again? 
A voice in the back of your mind spoke, criticizing you, questioning you. Did you actually think you mattered to him? Silly silly girl. You mean nothing to him… Just look at them, so perfect together, like they were made for each other. You are just getting in the way. You were so stupid for not seeing it before. 
This is your own fault for being so blind. 
You were brought out of your thoughts when she stood, sneaking Johnny a look. “I’m gonna head to bed, I’m exhausted.” Her smile stretched so wide as she looked at you, reminding you of the one she gave on your wedding day. “Thank you so much for letting me stay again, Y/n. I’ve missed us being together.” Was that a double meaning behind her words? You couldn’t bring yourself to reply, only nodding with another fake smile.
You watched as your husband watched her walk away, with a look he had never looked at you with. Your heart followed with each step your best friend took. Your gaze moved back to the tv when Johnny turned his attention to you. “Do you think we should head off as well? I’m pretty beat.” He stands and stretches, not even waiting for your response as he is already heading to the bedroom.
You sit there for a minute, your mind filled only with negative thoughts, your eyes and heart heavy. 
This was your fault. You weren’t good enough. This is your fault.
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thank you for reading!
feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.
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its-your-mind · 10 months
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Some Thoughts on the importance of physical touch and connection for the Hells: A reflection on the new animated intro.
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In general, I think the Hells are a really strange and special group, especially for a dnd party. They pretty much laid all their baggage on the table within the first week of meeting each other (What the Fuck is Up With That?) almost as a litmus test: "hey, here's all the shit that comes with being me, last chance to run away if that's too much."
and none of them did. and they all kept choosing to stay, even as shit got even weirder and more and more disturbing answers came to light. I think that continued choice from all of them - to stay - is what makes the bonds between the Hells so deep and so special.
okay trauma analysis and party dynamics is a DIFFERENT POST but it was all RELEVANT INTRODUCTION bc the CHOOSING TO STAY and the KNOWING EACH OTHERS' SHIT are like. key components to understanding why I am so feral about this. okay hopefully you will understand. the body of my essay is below. it has pictures. it got... too long. so. it went under a read more. yw. anyway click below if you want a very detailed analysis of an animated intro that is literally only one minute and thirty seconds long
For the first bit, character intros for Fearne, Orym, Imogen, Ashton, there’s no physical contact.
BUT. First intro of hells as a team. Ashton Trauma Flashback interrupted by laudna approaching slowly from beside him with her hand gently in front of him to signal her presence without startling him, and THEN just talking at them. Bringing him out of those flashbacks. Reminding him where he is and who he’s with.
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And tbh? For Ashton? Touch is always iffy, so this is almost a more understanding and kind way to bring them out of the flashback. Just physical presence is good! UNLESS. (unless) first actual touch. Fearne stealing their coin purse, so gently that they don’t even notice it (FLIRTING THROUGH THEFT callowmoore my beloved)
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(also grabbed the cap that shows her with his coinpurse these fucking ANIMATORS)
okay pt 2 FLYING OFF THE AIRSHIP
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Ashton's first instinct and priority is grab laudna’s hand bc he KNOWS she is made of paper mache and he is ALWAYS watching out for her out of the corner of his eye bc she is breakable and he’s not gonna let her break bc he KNOWS what it’s like to be breakable and need someone to catch you when you’re falling but ANYWAY. he grabs her he uses his hammer as a fulcrum to throw her at Imogen
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because OF COURSE he knows that the safest and most comfortable space for laudna is in imogen’s arms. and the two of them wrap their arms around each other and hold tight Superman style bc ofc they do and once laudna is in imogen’s arms she’s absolutely delighted by this whole situation bc OFC SHE IS
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(tf do you mean I can’t add more than ten images on mobile UGH fine I’ll finish writing then draft and move to PC the images are IMPORTANT TO MY POINT anyway insert lesbians here) (note from future mind: I have decided that these pic descriptions i left for myself to grab the right images are fucking hilarious so they’re staying in yw)
Then fearne (who had been on her way in that direction already) swoops under Ashton to catch him as he flips over from the momentum so he can land on her giant bird back and she can fly him away.
(Pics: It’s fine to touch Ash if you’re saving their life)
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(also not pictured: chet staying on the ship but losing his hat, orym grabbing it out of the air, imogen casting fly on fcg right before she catches laudna, fcg flying over to grab orym) All of this happens in six seconds by the way. One round of combat. These animators are fucking incredible.
BACK TO CHARACTER INTROS laudna who is ofc alone and in the dark at the bottom of the Sun tree, reliving her past…
(Pic: sad lonely laudna)
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right up until Imogen puts her head on her shoulder, and the darkness burns away into light. She doesn’t say anything, or talk with laudna - all it takes is that physical reminder that she’s not alone anymore, that there is warmth, that she is surrounded by a family who loves her so much they chose to turn down comfortable beds in a lord’s manor so that they could join her in sleeping at the bottom of the Sun Tree. (Fav lil detail - fearne wrapped around Orym like he’s a teddy bear, and holding tight to laudna’s blanket to make sure she can’t go anywhere.)
(Pics: THE POWER OF LESBIANS AND FOUND FAMILY)
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fcg. Fuck. Starts with their flashback, with their red eyes and their buzzsaw, but almost immediately we see Ashton reach out to grab their shoulder and Orym whip out a vine to tie up their saw.
(pics: reaching out even if it might hurt youuuuu)
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Imogen goes on her knees and wraps her arms around FCG’s other side, and the rest of them all gather around him, holding him to keep him and each other safe, but mostly just grounding him in the present by surrounding him physically until the flashback fades and he’s once more aware of his surroundings.
(Pics: what the fuck they just need to be held)
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(once shit has calmed down fearne uses this opportunity to pick Ashton’s pocket again. Flirting through theft).
(Pic: fearne is a menace to society)
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final fight scene. fuck yes.
(Pic: IT’S THURSDAY NIIIIIIIIIIIGHT)
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This is mostly just giving all of them room to be badasses (as they deserve) - but there are some things!! First!!
(pics: THESE WITCHES BE BITCHES minus fearne sry fearne we miss u but you are on fire and laudna is made of wood currently)
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Imogen and laudna casting spells back to back, trusting each other to take care of what’s on their side. Inseparable, even in a battle where their party has scattered to fight other enemies.
BUT. The BIG thing though in this sequence. Maybe my favorite part? Idk I don’t have a favorite. But!! Orym. taking out four of Otohan’s shadow knights. then facing off against her personally!! And it’s one-on-one, because this was Orym’s task alone - to find the person who attacked his leader and killed his family. He’s angry, but mostly he’s honed-in and focused and determined. This is his mission.
(Pics: WHO’S JUST A LIL GUY NOW HUH)
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But then, when Otohan pushes him back…
(Pic: fuck. shit. fuck. im. fine. anYway. them.)
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FCG and Ashton are there right behind him, and they put their arms out and catch him so he doesn’t fly back any farther. And there’s this look of surprise on his face, because once he lost Will, he never expected there to be anyone else standing behind him, ready to catch him. And yet, here they are.
(Pics: fuck yes fuck yes fuck yes GOOOO ORYM!!!)
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They give Orym a push forward and follow behind him, and he walks back towards Otohan with confidence. Lil grin on his face, brisk walking pace - he even does a little fancy sword swoosh! Because maybe he’s not strong enough to take out Otohan on his own. But the thing is, he’s not alone anymore.
(Pic: THEY.)
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None of them are alone. And whenever any of them forget, or slip into old habits and memories, the rest are right there to reach out a hand to remind them.
Building a family out of broken pieces is difficult even without an apocalypse. But the Hells have shown each other, over and over and over, often with their actions even more than their words, that they really are dedicated to this family that they've built together. This intro fucking slaps so hard and the animators deserve so much praise for how incredible this intro is
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dmitriene · 7 months
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THOUGHTS ABOUT VENTING WITH KYLE ON THE BEACH.
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cw: tooth rotting fluff, comfort, established relationship, intimacy, lot of kisses, massaging, teasing, flirting, pet names, just a lot of romantic couple things, reader described as wearing a swimsuit. pairing: bf kyle gaz garrick x gf fem reader
author's note: that's my first ever try of writing for kyle, so he maybe might seem to ya'll ooc, or something else, but i just wanted to try and post something with him, so i hope that those who'll read it enjoy.
✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3. ˑ༄
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the sun and slight coolness create a pleasant atmosphere on the morning beach, there are not many people yet, the pale sand has not had time to be filled with a huge number of plastic chairs and sun loungers, while the slightly warm rays play with reflections on the water and color the sand yellowish.
your trip to the beach with kyle was completely spontaneous, an idea that emerged during the dialogue that it would be nice to get out somewhere together to relax and unwind, especially considering that kyle has been sitting more at home lately, too tired from missions and definitely missing your presence to go somewhere from the comfort of home, therefore, the best option was the sea, light warmth, cool water, the images that popped up in kyle’s head, and not even yours, looked too tempting not to voice them
— “hmm, wha' abou' a beach, then, sunshine?„
that's why you were now sitting on his tailbone while kyle lay on his stomach on top of the beach mat, letting your hands touch his dark, sun glistening skin, starting from the bottom of his back and working up the white streaks of sunscreen, the cool, sticky texture making him shiver softly, practically arching, if not for the weight of your body pressing him down while you cover every visible part of his back with sun cream.
your hands slide to his shoulder blades, tracing the defined bones and muscles that tense and limp under your touch as your thumbs press in circular motions, moving to his shoulders, and kyle turns his head to the side, catching your slightly concentrated face, which causing him to have a wide, snow white smile, revealing his pointed fangs, while he practically purrs
— “can't really ge' enough of your touch on me, sweethear'„
his shameless flirting causes a small smile to tug at the corners of your lips as your body leans forward and you move your face closer to his, placing a quick kiss on his lips as he reaches back, propping himself up on his elbows and tilting his head to capture your lips with his, rubbing with his stubble against your skin and frowning his dark thick eyebrows with displeasure when you pull away from him, sliding off him and standing on the sand, flashing him a teasing smile and murmuring, playfully
— “well, i can't smear you with sunscreen until the evening?„
kyle laughs in response, propping himself up on his elbows and stretching to warm up after lying down for a long time, letting the sun's rays fall on his skin, illuminating him as his back and abs muscles work at the same time, rippling with every movement until he is fully on his feet, wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you into the air without a single problem, narrowing his dark eyes in a smile, catching the sun with them and letting them light up as he lifts you slightly, placing his hands under your ass that is slightly opened by your swimsuit, allowing him to hide your pretty parts, while your hands rest on his shoulders
— “is tha' a question, sunshine? because my answer is definitely yes„
his slightly deep voice sparkles with perkiness, causing you to playfully roll your eyes back before you reach up to kiss him softly on the cheek, placing a warm kiss where he has a scar of two scratches, which brings a burning tenderness in his gaze, encouraging him to kiss you back just as reverently, fidgeting with his slightly plump lips against yours, his slightly shaved mustache tickling your skin as he presses closer to lick your lower lip and open a passage inside your mouth, freeing one hand from under your butt, and holding you on one, he touches the back of your head, pressing you deeper into the kiss, stroking your hair, until one of you pulls away.
and kyle does it first, allowing you to greedily draw in lungfuls of air through swollen and wet lips, not even paying attention to possible looks from the passing people, before you are brought back to reality by unexpected, literally childish behavior on his part, when he leans down and touches your nose with his, before biting the tip of your nose, and you gasp, your eyes immediately widening in surprise, before you furrow your brows and pinch his own nose, and he just breaks out into loud laughter, his body shaking and you with him while you mutter threateningly
— “you do this one more time and i would bury you in the sand, garrick!„
the laughter immediately becomes quieter, softening as he rubs his eyes from the slight accumulation of moisture there from approaching tears, before starting to walk towards the open sea along the sand, still holding you in his arms, even despite the slight frown in your eyebrows and feigned offense at his action, although it still touches him, which is why he bounces you slightly in his arms, jumping up, pressing his cheek against yours with an airy smooch and purring smugly
— “aww, come on, i'm sorry, sunshine, let's enjoy the woter, shall we?„
you look at kyle with suspicion, sincere, narrowing your eyes when he turns his head to look at you, smiling sickly sweetly, knowing that his charm always works without unnecessary problems, but you still give him a small warning, making him snort, but one way or another, listen to the end
— “don't try to pull out something silly again, i dare you„
he nods, as if obediently, but you see that sparkle in his brown eyes and it leaves nothing good to be desired, especially when kyle still gives you his answer, far from an agreement, but you can’t help but smile at his playfulness, sighing and resigned as you lay your head on top of his, kissing the top of his dark, curly hair, almost imperceptibly, but kyle is aware of your every warm touch
— “don' promise you anything, sweetie, but i migh' try„
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misskattylashes · 4 months
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Okay, I’m going to do it. I have been holding back and just telling my closest fandom friends my crazy theory, but what the hell. Most of you think I’m batshit anyway.
Here we go.....
What if we have been on the receiving end of a long played out psyop and Louise has been a way to make the public want Milex?
Okay, hear me out...
It’s 2017/8 Alex has abandoned Miles after EYCTE. He has gone to France to write and record TBHC, having realised their little TLSP bubble could never last (see Star Treatment). Without Alex, Miles is a little lost and lonely in LA. His reputation is also at rock bottom after the journalist incident. Miles decides he wants to move back to England, and Alex decides he wants to move back to, as we know they can never be more than a few minutes away from each other
Taylor either wouldn’t or couldn’t leave LA, so she and Alex break up. But they need a new girlfriend to keep up the straight image (especially with the new badly-received album and a world tour about to begin). On the original version of OPP as seen on the AM in Mexico video, over the turtle segment Alex sings ‘One More Year I’ll Call It Quits’ maybe the plan was to give it all up,but he had signed a contract to do another album and tour after TBHC, and with Miles’ reputation so bad, if they were together then they would both be cancelled.
So a European girlfriend is found and this is where the subterfuge begins. We start with old Instagram posts with tags like #alexturnerwillyoumarryme, then we get professionally shot videos of her backstage at AM’s concert (all the time Alex is ‘still with’ Taylor) so as soon as they launch, the first image of Louise the public get is a negative one, as a fangirl who has set out to get Alex, not caring if he cheats in his current girlfriend.
Before I list the reasons why I think she is fake, can I say this idea he has stayed with her as punishment for cheating on Taylor is absolutely ridiculous. Men who are serial cheats aren’t known for wearing hairshirts. Especially when you’re a handsome, wealthy rock star who could easily get another girlfriend.
So, the idea is, Louise is the most unpleasant person who makes Alex miserable, and if most people are honest, they want Alex to be happy..
So, let’s look at the evidence..(where there is a * it means there is a Miles counterside)
Louise doesn’t work. She claims to be a feminist, but her job seems to be being Alex’s girlfriend.
She openly copies selfies posed by previous girlfriends, making her look like she has no personality of her own
She boasts in her IG posts ie the ‘we just fucked’ pic and the panties on the piano.
She claims to be a musician but we rarely see her writing or recording anythjng.*
She writes embarrassing things about itAlex on social media (beautiful dick).*
Openly takes a neutral stance on Palestine.
Claims to wear vintage clothes but they rarely are*
When Alex was ill after the third London show, it is publicised that he leaves the Emirates with his parents, no sign of Louise. She’s too busy taking pics in the hotel with Matt and Amanda
Meanwhile Miles has worked hard on his public image. He has shown he is a hard worker. He rarely mentions Alex on social media and when asked about him in interviews, whilst admitting they are good friends, is insistent they are not working together. Which is good because he has always been accused of riding on Alex’s fame.
He frequently gives updates when he his writing and recording, treating us to little snippets, something Louise never does.
Is it a coincidence that holiday gate is the same as the week One Man Band’s release. Alex looking miserable with Louise Vs Miles being charming and hard working.
Not long after Louise starts going on about her fake vintage, Miles posts a whole real of him going proper vintage shopping so he looks authentic.
Even in Dublin there is no duet with Alex. Miles not using Alex’s,fame,but also those who monitor social media can see how hungry they are for Milex interaction.
The river Mersey comment – another way of guaging public opinion. Finally the legion of doom 😍😍 comment on the NY recent. The fandom went crazy at Milex acknowledgement.
Alex....
His face..Alex is a pro. He has had twenty years of faking smiles after arguments with the other Monkeys, girlfriends, even Miles. He could fake a smile with Louise if we wanted to when they call their friends at Backgrid to take pap pictures. But instead he chooses to look like someone either on the verge of tears or else being held hostage. And in the latest set of pics, Louise looks the same.
The Taylor tattoo....it looks like he thinks so little of her he has kept that tattoo.
‘I don’t wanna be hers, I wanna be yours’ quite often at gigs where Louise is in attendance.
Not one song on the car written about her.
And now of course with the tour over, a lot of people return to watching TLSP videos. Happy, muscly, healthy looking Alex having fun with Miles as opposed to skinny, miserable Alex trapped with Louise.
Apart from Louise’s most ardent fans, most people want to see him away from her and would be overjoyed at a TLSP reunion, and for us Milexers, a declaration of their love.
So, has this been a long game? A way of making the people think they want Milex? I told you it was crazy, but just remember the world of public relations is completely underhand and insane.
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ranticore · 1 month
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selected pages from Shapeshifter Problems, a small exploration of old old concept art & thoughts on shapeshifter tropes (specifically the question of the 'true form') i posted to patreon earlier this year. there's a bunch more haha. here's some OLD art and bg process for writing said the black horse. I don't like my old art but looking back at it I'm really happy how I've developed since, I used to make everything too sharp, straight-sided, or skinny. I had to make a conscious effort to change that and now it's so much better.
image transcriptions under the cut (just the text sorry)
Image 1: "These are more of those older designs - the horns were a deliberate play into devil imagery on Puck's part while giving Félix this form (all to cause more torment of course) but again I couldn't vibe with it. Such clear statements of intent didn't work for me.
The scars remain canon but not quite so stark, more a difference in texture (again, moving away from visual details). His forehead scar is ALWAYS there."
Image 2: "Félix. These are really old - from 2019-2020. They're the first attempts at Félix's horse form. At the time I was leaning into some goat-like attributes. I liked the idea of something that looked like an emaciated amalgam of many familiar creatures but if you look closer, it actually doesn't look like any animal at all. The original body shape and proportions were inspired by moose. I didn't know how to draw convincing horse shapes which is why he had these hands and claws for so long. I still draw the little flower wheel pattern on his sides sometimes... a secret just for me. His belly fur, squared off ear shape, and beard are still defining characteristics"
Image 3: "More old art from 2020. Bottom left is my first ever painting on my iPad using Procreate. I still prefer SAI for creature drawings, or at least the original sketches underpinning a lot of my art. Below on the bottom was my attempt at a scarier form for the character but I ultimately decided that it ran contrary to the atmosphere I was trying to create. Top left is my first 'real' horse painting and it includes the tail shape which has not ever changed, and feathers, which I nixed because I wanted to learn how to draw the feet and legs properly and not rely on covering them up with flowing hair (my favourite thing to draw)"
Image 4: "Like the black horse designs, these humanoid designs for Félix (circa 2019 - OLD art!) started very complex and simplified over time. I decided to avoid visual complexity, but made the mistake of solidifying specific 'rules' for how the Púca servants' bodies work, and I deeply regret this. Because I wrote Said the Black Horse in 2021, I was still operating under the old mindset and that caused it to become somewhat established canon.
In his original iteration his tattoos represented magical contracts between him and various faeries, so they were supposed to be always visible as a reminder of that contract.
<- a really early furry version, I was playing with the eye on the neck as a design feature. Ultimately I feel that although it looks cool, the medium he exists in is proser. So I needed to move away from visually complex designs and towards designs which were interesting to different senses instead."
Image 5: "As time went on the design simplified. I enjoyed making fun textures using procreate brushes. These designs lack his forehead scar but do include his impalement scar. If you've seen my Hanged Man card you'll know how he got that one. But when I made the charts like this about how his body 'worked' in 2020, again I ran into the same issue I always do when writing about faeries... the more I explain it, the most 'logic' and 'science' goes into it, the less it feels like a faery story to me. Overexplaining is anathema to the faeries of Inver. so even though I like these design notes they just don't fit in this setting."
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bridgetoesoteria · 9 months
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🖤Breaking baddie🖤: Describing your 'dark feminine' energy. How to channel it?
Hola malacitas 😘 (i hope that actually made sense lol).
First things first, what is "dark feminine" energy?
Yes, this is the **first website that comes up when you google "dark feminine," but it is pretty thorough and comprehensive! I liked it the most out of all the others. The others either repeated the same points or had too many outdated/black-or-white views. Feel free to do your own research however. There are plenty of videos on YouTube as well. **One caveat...when you get to the part about tapping into DF energy, I disagree with #8 (specifically).
(We're going to keep this post light and I'll dedicate a separate post to my personal viewpoints.)
So I will be telling you all about your personal DF "archetype." I will also provide guidance on how you channel your DF energy.
I am so so excited for this! Eek 🙊 Okay, options below, left to right. I hope it resonates!
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I am using a few different decks. I won't be adding pictures but I will provide what cards I drew.
Pile 1
Off the bat: I am hearing "no fuss" and also "ruthless," which is interesting considering the image you chose. I was also hearing the lyrics "all I do is win, win, win no matter what." So I'm getting some really bad ass energy right away! Come thru mob girlies!
4-Card Spread: 4 of Diamonds, 8 of Diamonds, 7 of Hearts, Joker. Bottom of deck is 6 of Clubs.
It's funny you have the 6 of Clubs (wands) on the bottom of the deck. I was hearing those lyrics about winning. This is a card that signifies victory and public recognition or celebration. I feel like the DF side of you is really bad ass! I'm also getting a pinch of "lover girl" energy. Its kind of like you have perfect formula sugar+sheist+everything nice! lol
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This energy isn't afraid to be in the spotlight but is also quite comfortable in the shadows. You may be (or this is what other people think) the type to use underhanded to get ahead. Its not personal but you gotta do what you gotta do. I'm also getting an energy of it is easy for people (I'm hearing "dudes" so maybe some of you talk like that) to get attached and feel led on. But I think you are married to the hustle.
Some of you may not regularly reside in this energy and could be put off by the description. But that is exactly why its dark feminine energy. It pokes and antagonizes the status quo, which is where most of us reside from day to day. Traditionally, feminines are not painted as cunning, street-wise, heartbreakers. Your DF energy pushes back against those constraints placed on feminines that require prioritizing the group over self. Not that anyone asked but I think that's actually kind of amazing.
Of course you don't have to reside in this energy and adopt some toxic alter ego, but there probably are some gems hidden here. People who move like this are usually made, not born. In some way, they learned that survival=competition, so you learn to "stay ready so you don't have to get ready." Your motto as a DF would be "every (wo)man for themselves," making betrayals feel less personal because...well it just isn't, as crazy as that sounds.
Advice: The Devil, Queen of Swords, King of Wands, The Star. Bottom of deck is 7 of Swords + Mute (Oracle)
I'm getting a strong message about speaking up. I am using Tarot de Carlotydes and in this deck the 7 of Swords is depicted as a sword swallower. Which I always interpret as "swallowing" the truth. Then as I was focusing on this group's image, I realized the cabinet behind her is full of skulls, reminding me of "skeletons in the closet." Then finally we have a literal Mute card:
The Mute is told what to hear, say and think and is often suppressed. Sometimes breaking the chains against heeded words may be rewarded.
So you currently may be the complete opposite of your DF energy. One of the keywords for the Mute is "insecurities." I feel like a lot of you are sleeping on yourselves. 🔊AND ITS TIME TO WAKE THE F UP!
Maybe you are trapped in your light feminine energy. I say trapped because it feels like you are forced into that box. Super passive, loss of control. Where your DF energy would insist on speaking up and standing out, you may just keep your head down and avoid any trouble.
I'm hearing specifically that some of you love writing poetry but may have someone who discourages you from pursuing this interest. You may want to present your poetry to an audience and they tell you that no one wants to hear what you have to say. For others, they are saying no one wants to hear from you about something else.
If you are used to toxic and restrictive connections or friendships, you are being called to step out of that. Get used to asserting your boundaries, "do not speak down about my hobbies," "if you cannot allow me to think for myself, then we can not continue our relationship." I think you definitely have it in you.
Another keyword listed is "hope." I think some of you may enjoy singleness and being single-mindedly focused on you and your goals, more fulfilling than you think. It can be healing to finally feel like the star of your show.
TL;DR: Your DF energy definitely has a bit of edge to her. She does what she has to do to move ahead and she prefers to fly solo. Even if that is not where you are right now, this energy already exists within you. Once you drop the dead weight--be it toxic family, toxic friends, or a toxic partner--you will see how quickly you flourish. You have every right to speak your truth and protect your peace. Its time to peel yourself off the wallpaper and start standing out and speaking up!
Pile 2
Off the bat: I wasn't getting anything with this group. I found that strange and wondered if I wasn't "tuned in." I think this represents your mental space when you are in your DF energy. You are clear minded and have a "sober" outlook. Maybe some of you are literally sober or are considering it.
4-Card Spread: 2 of Clubs, Queen of Spades, 8 of Spades (R), Ace of Hearts/7 of diamonds. Bottom of deck is 9 of diamonds.
I am very strongly getting that there is something noteworthy about your DF's decision making abilities. Maybe that sounds "boring," but its actually pretty admirable! The world often sends the message that feminine energy does not possess strong cognitive abilities. When feminines contradict this stereotype, they can be labeled as "cold," "mean," "masculine," or met with hostility.
I'm honestly getting that the DF in you does not care. You may naturally lean more to this side in every day life. Or this is where you could be if you tapped into your DF energy more often.
You make clear decisions and keep it moving. You do not allow your thoughts to keep you tangled up in a web of confusion and indecision. Some of you could be really good at chess. I am getting that kind of energy. Calculated, self-assured, and making decisions with no intentions of taking it back.
You are quite comfortable standing on your own, and pouring into your own little world. I get the image of a woman who lives on a quiet estate, walking through her garden, with birds chirping and flying above. Have any of you watched the movie Men (2022)? I loved the imagery in that film and that's kind of the vibe I am getting now. A lot of horse girlies may have picked this pile.
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I feel you being very unbothered, above drama. Your DF energy would love to find a masculine that can match your energy. You are good on your own so you won't allow anyone disruptive into your peaceful little domain. You do not make impulsive decisions in love and you are willing to wait for a new opportunity that is worth the investment. With the king of diamonds two cards under the 9 of diamonds, I do feel like this DF energy could pull the kind of masculine you desire.
Your DF energy really shines in STEM related jobs, corporate spaces, or any position that requires a sharp mind.
Advice: Ace of Swords, 10 of Swords, 4 of Wands, Knight of Cups. Bottom of deck is 10 of Wands + Spider (Oracle)
As soon as I pulled the ace of swords, I heard "get used to speaking your truth." I also heard stop entertaining "little boys." I don't think this is in terms of age, I think this referring to the maturity level of masculine energies you may usually deal with. I am in no way encouraging that you pursue anyone older. (Honestly, that does not guarantee emotional maturity or respect. But that's another convo).
I think this message is about the expectations you set for your partners. There is nothing wrong with expecting them to match you. They can either rise to the occasion or be left behind. If you hold this potential inside of you to be a queen of swords, queen of pentacles, and 9 of pentacles. Then I'm sure that energy exists out there in a suitable counterpart. The ten of wands is encouraging you to keep forging forward. I don't like preaching to be "strong" and "endure," but this is different. You are being strong for yourself. If you have to walk alone right now, it gets tough at times, but you are doing it with purpose. It will pay off.
For some this may literally require you to live alone. Its interesting that I keep getting messages about homes. I got a lot of diamonds/pentacles in the last spread, which also can deal with the home and related practical matters. "Home" is one of the keywords for Spider. The Moon is on the bottom of the deck, I think it is also relevant. This is what the guidebook has to say about each:
The Spider traps those who wander into her web. Keywords: Control, Home, Familiarity, Comfort, Trapped, Security. The Moon is not always as she seems. Her delicate glow seeks for hidden truths while blinding others to her own. Keywords: Confusion, Apprehension, Suspicion, Feelings.
You may need to be more discerning when it comes to who you let into your home and/or your heart. You might need to create a little confusion when it comes to what your next move is. Everyone does not deserve your energy or to be held on to.
Spiders can also be associated with anxiety. In regular tarot, I do consider the moon to be a card that can speak about mental health. So some of you may need to make these changes for your own sanity, literally.
TL;DR: Your DF energy is a very strong and self-sufficient queen of swords type. She thinks clearly, can make decisions without questioning herself, and always stands on business. She has high standards for those who come around her because she has built a beautiful life for herself and will vet anyone who wants to join. This self-respect and authenticity helps to attract a suitable mate. One who can match this go-getter, no bs energy. The key to channeling this energy is to start living in it now. Trust your decision making abilities, don't announce or seek validation before you make a necessary personal decision. Staying true to yourself and becoming more independent will pay off.
Pile 3
Off the bat: When I looked at the image for your pile, I immediately heard "I'm not one of those/your little girls." So whew! We are coming in hot! Also hearing "I wish a b---- would."
4-Card Spread: 7 of Hearts, Jack of Clubs, 2 of Clubs, Joker. Bottom of deck is 5 of Hearts.
I am getting more light-hearted energy in this pile than the previous two. Maybe a lot of young, or young-at-heart, people have chosen this pile. This DF energy could easily pull many suitors but she views lovers as more of a "fun time," not so much a "long time." You could also be a little toxic toward lovers. Makeup to breakup, or honestly sometimes its just breakup lol.
This energy is quite fiery and uninhibited. Some of you could be fire signs, specifically Sagittarius. Or I am getting that because of what Sag represents: free spiritedness, adventure, luck. No wonder this DF energy resists being tied down. The world is literally your oyster and you knows it!
This DF energy is also a little scrappy. Have any of you watched the Bad Girls Club? You know how there would be that one person who has a temper, then gets a little too messed up when they go clubbing and ends up wanting to fight everyone... When you see red, people need to clear your path! I do get a bit of a party girl energy which is not surprising considering I was picking up on Sag.
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This DF does not have a problem fulfilling her emotional needs. You will always make sure your cup is full. You will always make sure you are having a good time. You realizes that you have this amazing, fortunate energy and unapologetically harnesses it to get the most out of life. I think your DF self is also likely to be single and happy that way. Picking yourself up after disappointments in love is no problem because there are plenty more where they came from. You have an abundant mindset when it comes to love and life.
Advice: Queen of Wands, The Hanged Man, Ace of Swords, 5 of Cups. Bottom of deck is 5 of Swords + Ghost (Oracle)
In order to channel this DF energy, some of you may literally have to ghost someone. I am not surprised the energy of having to cut people off has been coming up. Sometimes the company we keep can really hinder our growth and self-expression. The hanged man is about surrender and next to the ace of swords, I sometimes see this combo as maintaining no contact. Ghost could also be taken literally.
But I think Ghost is also talking about a tendency toward self sabotaging and shrinking yourself. This is the total opposite of the DF energy that I just channeled. Its like the past and your insecurities have a tendency to haunt you and keep you stuck. You may also try to make yourself invisible. In the guidebook, the word forgotten repeats itself twice for this card:
The Ghost lingers, forlorn and forgotten. Keywords: Hidden, Mystery, Forgotten, Spiritual Matters, Fears, Faith
You will need to work on your self-confidence. When you are more confident in yourself, you will be more confident in your decision making abilities. You will be more authentic with the way you present yourself to the world because it won't matter whether people approve or disapprove. You know who you are. With the 5 of cups, there could be something that you are still grieving or regretting but you can bounce back from this! Channel your inner phoenix and allow yourself to blossom. Its time to reinvent yourself!
Be open to all the great things life has to offer you. Guided meditations for gratitude and self-confidence/self-love could be very beneficial. Trust that the flow of life is always leading you to something wonderful. Trust that you are allowed to call the shots in your reality. Do your part then trust and let go.
TL;DR: Your DF energy is very spicy! She is popular and free-spirited. She knows that life has so many different adventures to offer and she does not let anything stop her from exploring them. This DF is likely to be single or somewhat noncommittal. She does not mind flying solo and knows she can always find another mate. She is also quite lucky and manifests fortunate events with ease. To channel this energy you will need to drop any dead weight and increase your confidence in yourself and your decision making abilities. You could benefit from some form of self-help resources like books and guided meditations. And if it is accessible to you, therapy, support groups, or other resources that will help your create a stronger you.
Pile 4
Off the bat: I am getting a pretty serious energy. Some domme energy or you could just be a pretty dominant woman. This could be describing you or your DF energy. I keep hearing strawberries and champagne. Is that even a real thing? I've never met anyone who enjoyed that combo.
4-Card Spread: 4 of Clubs, Jack of Diamonds, Ace of Hearts, and Ace of Spades. Bottom of deck is Queen of Spades
I am still getting some of that super assertive and stern feminine energy. I could see your DF self working being a principal. I am also hearing headmaster/headmistress. I think she would love working with children but not in the traditional, mushy-gushy light feminine way. Its more of a "I have/enforce rules because I love you" type of energy . You believe in structure and order. If this isn't working with children, this could also apply to raising children. I could also see this DF running an orphanage. I did hear "rule the roost" while I was shuffling, so no matter how this resonates, you definitely are not afraid to lead.
You are generous and wise. Beneath the stern exterior is a lot of love and compassion. Your soft spots are not visible until you take a closer look at what you invest your time and energy into. This kind of energy could also attract less mature suitors, because it intimidates them yet they are so infatuated. You carry yourself with grace and probably won't entertain them. You are much more suited to be their mentor than anything.
Going back to the original domme energy I was getting. You may actually prefer partnerships that allow you to wear the pants. You don't really want a masculine energy coming in and dictating to you. You can run your own life just fine and would rather partner up with someone who can understand that. I don't think you want someone that is "weak" either, its more like you desire the cliche of the masculine that calls the shots in the board room but is more submissive/passive at home. They are secure enough to be with a feminine energy as strong as them.
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Some of you as DF would be comfortable living a "nontraditional" life. Nontraditional as far as feminine energy is concerned anyway. You may prefer live-in partners, or life partners, over traditional marriage. You could identify with being poly or something similar. You would love to travel and always seek to broaden your horizons. This is the type of person you would expect to have "summer homes." You could also decide to not have children or you would want to wait on having/adopting children. You love living authentically because of how freeing it is to just be you. You don't care what outsiders think of your life because you know you are doing what works best for you.
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Advice: 3 of Swords, 5 of Pentacles, 9 of Swords, Queen of Wands (R). Bottom of deck is The Devil + Soil (Oracle)
To channel this DF energy more, you will need to master the art of not giving a shit. Some of you could be currently suppressing this energy. I really don't think its that far out of reach for all of you. Its just your fear that is keeping you trapped.
For some of you this trapped feeling is because you are in the closet. I am not telling you to come out because I don't know how that would impact your life. I want you to stay safe! However, maybe you can seek out queer friendly spaces. Or spaces that are supportive of whatever group you identify with.
There could also be a heartbreak that has left you questioning yourself. In the Tarot de Carlotydes, the 9 of swords is depicted as a woman chained in a dark room, with a flower in her hand and broken heart drawn on a piece of paper. I always see this card as being tortured over a disappointment. In this particular deck, I see as a mental prison that you feel trapped in because you are clinging to and rehashing an event. Holding onto this event keeps the pain fresh or recurring. It is time to release it.
Do not internalize other people's actions and shortcomings. It is not a reflection of you. You are who you decide to be. Do not dim your shine for anyone. Do not stunt your growth either. I'm not sure what it is that is holding you back but you have the potential to be the brightest star! You can be strong, and confident, and assertive. There is this little ball of power inside of you, that can grow if you allow it. Soil echoes the same message I am seeing in tarot. You must let yourself bloom:
The soil is a conduit of both growth and decay. Eyes forward, rooted to the past and reaching to the skies, she'll grow. Keywords: Balance, Forward, Growth, Duty, Building.
Some of you may use less than healthy tactics to cope. Maybe you should think of yourself like a plant. What are you fertilizing your soil with? What are you using for watering? Put the best in, get the best out.
TL;DR: Your DF energy is a L-E-A-D-E-R, okay?! She calls the shots in every area of her life. Some suitors are attracted to her because their immaturity is infatuated with her self-assured, mature energy. However, she prefers an equally strong partner at her side but this does not mean she wants to be led. No, she wants someone that respects her as an equal but allows her to take the lead. She lives life on her terms, loves on her terms, and does not care what anyone else thinks of that. She does have a soft spot but that is not for everyone. This nurturing energy could be channeled into working with children in some capacity. In order to step into this energy, you will have to untether yourself from insecurity and heartbreak. You already have this power inside of you, its only a matter of letting it grow. You don't have to deny what you have been through or the way it impacts you, but it also does not have to hold you back. Replace your unhealthy coping mechanisms with healthy ones.
As previously stated, I have a planned post that will expand on my views about feminine energy and other spiritual topics. I am really looking forward to sharing my thoughts and hope you all will chime in! I would love to start a discussion.
Until then ❤
~ K
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soapymansuds · 4 months
Text
Eternity and counting
Pt 4
(Pt1, Pt2, Pt3)
(Ragggggh!! Actually remembered to post on a Tuesday this time lol.)
Obey me! X Angel!MC (They/Them Pronouns)
TW: Suicide, depression, self-deprecation, death, big feelings, lots of sad.
MC just can't handle anything anymore and takes their own life. Imagine their dismay to find even death isn't the end for them.
~/\~
I catch a whiff of fresh lilies as I continue to the castle. Curious. The castle has always smelled like roses. They were never Lord Diavolo's favorite, but they reminded him of his mother. But the closer I get, the stronger the smell, until it finally comes into view. Bushes and vines covered top to bottom in every species of lily I've ever seen in the human realm run elegantly up the walkway, over the entrance, and across the windowsills. I can't help staring in awe as I approach the front doors, I've never seen the entryway so decorated, even for Diavolo's parties or festivals. I wonder what the occasion is.
Within thirty seconds of my knuckles connecting with the door, it's opened with a flourish. Barbatos grins that trained grin I learned to detest in my time here. Nobody ever understood how I did it, but I could always tell when Barbatos was simply smiling for his Lord's image and when he was smiling for his own enjoyment. Part of me was always nervous he could see the same in me, but if he ever noticed, he never brought it up.
"Welcome to The Demon Lord's Castle. Please, Come in." He bows, sweeping his arm to welcome me.
"Thank you." I nod, stepping inside the frame and to the side of the door. Before he can even close the door behind me, I'm offering him the paperwork I was tasked with bringing.
"Ah, actually, if you don't mind following me. Lord Diavolo has requested to meet you. When he heard that Michael was sending a new angel, he insisted on meeting you. I'm sure you know the importance of those papers. It is quite unlike Michael to entrust a task of this magnitude to an angel we've never even met." He explains as he leads me down the hall.
I nod. "Of course."
I shouldn't have nodded. Why would I agree to this? It was instinct, I'm sure. Babatos could ask me to follow him straight into wild seas and I would, without a second thought. And now I've agreed to follow him to my own torment.
He moves silently as he leads me upstairs and out onto the balcony. My heart squeezes itself shut as I see Lord Diavolo, leaning over the balcony to admire the flowers below. He doesn't turn to greet us immediately, but something about the sag in his shoulders and the tension in his knees begs me to hold his hand. Soothe his worried thoughts until he has no choice but to sleep it off and start anew the next day. Something must be horribly, horribly wrong with me.
But the feeling is fleeting as he turns to us, standing tall as ever with that cover photo smile.
"Ah! You must be Michael's new angel! He seems quite fond of you." He strides towards us, clasping my hand firmly in his own. "Though, I admit he never gave me your name."
He poses the question so simply, and I have to fight the gut instinct to answer him honestly. But it burns, bitter and angry in my stomach as I summon the name Michael had given me for the sake of my privacy in the Celestial realm.
"Well it's a pleasure to finally meet you." He nods, but his wording gives me pause.
"Finally?"
"Of course! Michael has brought you up nearly every time we've spoken in the last several months." He laughs. God that laugh. I've dreamt of it. It makes me wonder for a brief moment if the cloaking spell expresses my growing blush.
But I disregard the consideration for the thought of Michael and the absolute hell I'd be giving him when I return. He's been plotting this for months, that bastard.
"Well, I'm glad to hear he speaks so highly of me." I bow lightly, presenting the paperwork to him. He takes it quickly, tossing it onto the table next to him.
As I stand back up, I wonder what to do with the sudden silence.
"Well, It's been a pleasure to meet you." I grin, wings flicking quickly. A nervous habit I've picked up since sprouting them.
"Right! I'm sure you have some important business to attend to." He claps his hands together. "Give Michael my best." He turns back to the railing and Barbatos moves to usher me out. But before I go, a question was lingering in my mind. "If I may, why lilies? Michael always tells stories of your grand rose gardens."
The balcony grows cold with the fall of Diavolo's gaze. Something unsettling burrows itself in my skin, burning like ice in my mouth.
"Lilies were MC's favorite." He mumbles. Practically whispers it into the wind.
But the sound reaches me anyway, and despite the gentle tone, it feels like being punched through the chest. "What?" I heard him, he knows I did. And he's right. Lilies are my favorite. Always have been. But I ask the question anyway. Because I simply can't comprehend why that would matter. It's been over a year now, they should have gotten over it. And yet, here he is. Mourning, right in front of me.
Barbatos places a tentative hand on my shoulder, whispering to me. "MC was a dear friend of ours. They... passed, some time ago." There's a pitch in his voice I don't recognize. Regret?
"And so, we maintain the garden, to show to them when they are reborn." Diavolo adds, smiling softly at me over his shoulder.
Something in the view of it all chokes me. Like swallowing a cotton ball.
They're still waiting for me.
Are they all still waiting? Lord Diavolo is one thing, but the brothers? Do they expect me to come home? Do they want me to? Why would they want that? After all I've done.
Before I can even consider it, I feel the familiar warm slip of tears down my cheek. Emotions I haven't grappled with in some time burn in my throat, clawing at my vocal cords and squeezing my airway shut. I hate this. I hate this feeling so much my hands shake with it. I never should have come here. It's selfish to say, but I could have gone on not knowing this. Had I stayed in the Celestial realm, I could have gone on for eternity, selfishly unaware that I was still wanted.
I swipe pathetically at my tears, wings flicking as I straighten my posture. "I'm, uh, terribly sorry for your loss." It's barely above a whisper but I know they can hear it. "But I... I should be getting back now."
They can tell something is wrong, of course they can. But rather than stick around for questions, I take off, sprinting through the halls of the castle and out through the front door.
I'm running on instinct as I navigate the streets of the city. I don't remember where I'm going, all I know is I need to get there fast. I should just return to the courtyard and wait for Michael to send the portal back to get me. But something in the idea of going back to the celestial realm brings bile to my throat.
So I follow my subconscious blindly, feet slamming against pavement and heart nearly shaking with the effort of it all until I come to an abrupt stop. My eyes, bleary as they are, recognize the sight before me like I had last seen it yesterday. The House of Lamentation looms over me, glass eyes challenging me from within the gate. The elegant iron rods of the gate twist around themselves and each other like a den of snakes. And I feel the same warm comfort from them as I always have. I pointed out the striking serpentine similarities between this gate and himself to Levi once. He was offended at first, but was quickly struck dumb when I pointed out how much I liked snakes.
The urge to press the gate open burns like fire in my hand, but I know that if I do, I won't be able to go back. There's no way I'd leave on my own once granting myself entry, and there's no explanation for my presence if I'm caught.
But if I turn around now, I will never come back. Damned if I do, damned if I don't.
(UGHHHH I hope y'all are still enjoying!! As always, comment if you'd like to be added to the taglist)
-Your friend, The Author <3
*tags*
@spffldlbrnf @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf @seraphlies @averageradstudent @sasa-mya @ayshela @miracl3d
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obscuretobyfox · 7 months
Note
this image from the art book depicting a scrapped part of snowdin. look in the top left, if you will.
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no clue what to do with this info but its there!
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This happens to be one of my favorite unused Undertale things out there!! Let's break it down, shall we?
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Starting in the top left, we can see what appears to be a mural of a Dragon(?) breathing fire against a Snake(?) More importantly, however, is what seems to be an early variation of the "Delta Rune", given the triangle formation and the depiction of an "Angel" figure.
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Moving right along, we have what I can only assume is placeholder, as I can't immediately identify anything related to Undertale or Deltarune. My best guess is that it's a cave painting depicting the war between humans and monsters.
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Next up is what appears to be the entrance to a "Museum" area, next to a couple of Loox.. Looxses??? Loox's????? This is assumedly a Museum of Monster History, given the theming of the rest of the area.
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The next crevice features a plaque with possibly another Delta Rune, a Loox statue, a statue of some angelic-looking monster, and... Buff Toby??? I think I understand why Temmie didn't want to sprite this area now..
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Speaking of Temmie, there she is! There's not much more to say. Hi Temmie!
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This final area features Flowey hanging out next to a family of snowmen, who have two TV's for some reason?? (Damn you Tenna..) The snowman at the bottom can be seen relaxing on a chair very similar to Sans' chair, later used by Lancer and Susie!
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Thank you so much for writing in! Fun fact about this post, this is the FOURTH time I've rewritten it due to it randomly deciding to delete itself without saving as a draft.. (Estimated time spent... 1h 45m...)
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spicymc · 5 months
Text
Let's talk about whb Satan's horns. In a previous post, I mentioned I feel like he can move them of his own will.
Why do I think this? Boi howdy, let's get into it:
Case file 1: the WHB wiki reference
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So I did crop it, so the post isn't that much longer.
Now that that is out of the way, this is a front facing image sourced from the WHB wiki. You can kind of see that the horns have a curve to them once they leave his poofy hair. HOWEVER, they end nearly a whole head length taller than his head.
Case file 2: When we broke Solomon's contract
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His horns are down!!! Here, he is like a cat looking to be pet. We can see the tips of his horns in this image! (😍🫣)
I feel really he is showing an emotion here. Sure, it is something that he wants to happen (the contract breaking), but it is still something that he can not control. He is at our will, granted the MC wants to help, and I am here for that. The horns down like this just scream passive to be.
Sure, there could be the argument that they wanted his horns in the image, so he looks more like a demon, and it's for the artistic flair. Okay, but there are other images that have very cropped horns as well from him.
Enter:...
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Case 3: poor Sitri
Here, we get just the base of his horns in the image, and it's still a great image (only the bottom is cropped off from the original image, similar to all others in this post)
The angle is still much higher than the second image too.
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Case 4: ...because...oh my
Another show of his emotions.
Here, his full attention is on the MC, and as such, his horns are at full attention as well *ahem*
So here are my points and arguments for the headcanon that WHB Satan can infact move the angle of his horns~
***notice*** I have only cropped the images. The images are not mine, in any sense of the word, and are from What in "Hell" is Bad.
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roxxie-wolf · 4 months
Text
𝒩𝑒𝓌 𝒪𝓇𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓃𝓈 𝐿𝑜𝓋𝑒
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Pairing: Human!Alastor x Fem!Reader
Summary: Your parents want you to marry someone of their choice, but you already have eyes on someone else. Will you follow what your parents think is best for you or will you go with what your heart desires.
Word count: 2.8k
Warnings: human!alastor x fem!reader, slow burn, this story may contain mature sexual content. Your in your late 20's, Alastor is in his early 30's, you still live with your parents idk. If I forgot anything else please let me know.
Note: Sorry for not posting last week. I have been very busy lately but I’ll try my best to keep up. Next Chapter and Previous Chapter will now be at the bottom of each chapter. Hope y’all enjoy this one^^
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𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝟫
The early morning light filtered through your curtains, casting a soft glow across the room as you stood there, emotions swirled within you like leaves caught in a gentle breeze. A week had passed since your last encounter with Alastor. The absence of his presence was a silent echo in your heart. *He knew where you lived; why hadn’t he come by?* The memory of his smile, the warmth of his touch—it all felt like a fragile dream now. But today was different. Today, you were preparing to visit Cindy’s house, a task that brought a familiar sense of frustration.
Meeting yet another suitor, James, was not something you looked forward to. The very thought of it made you feel like you were being paraded in a market, your feelings and desires secondary to the transaction at hand. You couldn't help but wonder if your mother only saw you as a piece to be moved in the grand chessboard of societal expectations.
As she adjusted the fabric of your dress, her hands were gentle, but her presence was a reminder of the expectations placed upon you. Your reflection in the mirror showed a figure of elegance and grace, yet your mind was miles away, lost in the memory of Alastor's kiss.
"Alright, you look beautiful, sweetheart," your mother's voice brought you back to the present, her tone filled with pride and affection.
"Thanks, mom," managing a smile as you met your own gaze in the mirror. You took in the sight of yourself, dressed up for someone else, while your heart ached for Alastor. The longing was a silent whisper, a contrast to the outward image of readiness.
Today, you would meet James, but your soul was already entwined with another. As you followed your mother downstairs, each step felt like a small betrayal to the love that had begun to bloom within you. Yet, you knew that no matter the outcome of today's meeting, Alastor had already claimed a piece of your heart that no one else could touch.
"First, we need to head to town; I gotta stop by Samantha's shop," your mother's words floated through the air, a prelude to the day's errands. You nodded in response, a gesture that belied the flutter of excitement at the thought of possibly encountering Alastor.
With each step towards the heart of town, the anticipation grew. The familiar streets held a new promise, and the mundane journey transformed into a path of potential encounters.
As you entered Samantha's shop, the bell above the door chimed, announcing your arrival. The scent of fresh flowers and the subtle fragrance of incense filled the air, a sensory embrace that was both welcoming and calming.
"Hello and welcome!" Samantha's voice, bright and cheerful, cut through the quiet hum of the shop. She emerged from behind a display of colorful trinkets, her arms open wide as she enveloped your mother in a warm hug.
Then, turning towards you, her smile was a beam of sunlight on a cloudy day. "It's so good to see you," her greeting carrying the weight of genuine affection.
You returned the smile, feeling a sense of belonging in this small corner of the world. Yet, beneath the pleasantries, your heart raced with the hope that today might just be the day you'd see Alastor again, even if just for a fleeting moment.
The murmur of conversation between your mother and Samantha became a distant hum as you stepped outside, the door closing softly behind you. The outside world greeted you with a gentle breeze and the soft bustle of the town's daily life. Your eyes scanned the surroundings, a silent wish in your heart to catch a glimpse of Alastor.
And then, as if summoned by your silent pleas, you spotted him. Alastor was there, just across the street, engaged in conversation with a woman whose laughter seemed to echo in your chest. A pang of jealousy struck you, sharp and unexpected. *Who is she?* The question gnawed at you, but the answer was clear: you were nothing to him, and yet, he was everything to you.
You couldn't help but watch Alastor from afar, the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed. The woman with him was laughing too, touching his arm in a familiar way that made your heart sink.
Time seemed to stretch and warp as you watched them, the laughter and conversation a silent movie to which you knew all the words yet couldn't bear to hear. Jealousy, a green-eyed monster, whispered in your ear, urging you to cross the street, to confront, to claim what you felt was yours.
But then, a voice, clear and concerned, cut through the fog of your emotions. "Y/N, where are you going?" It was your mother, her intuition like a lighthouse guiding you back from the rocky shores of rash decisions.
You cast a final glance at Alastor, now disappearing into the crowd with the woman, and a heavy sigh escaped your lips. Your heart, once buoyant with the memory of a kiss, now felt like an anchor dragging you down. The questions raced through your mind, a carousel of doubts: *Did the kiss mean nothing to him? Was it all just a game?*
As you turned to face your mother, the mask of composure settled upon your features. The day ahead with James awaited, a script written by expectation and duty. Yet, within the chambers of your heart, a single hope flickered, refusing to be extinguished—that perhaps, just perhaps, there was more to Alastor's story than what your eyes had seen.
——————————————
The knock on Cindy's door echoed the pounding of your heart, each beat a reminder of the turmoil within. You stood there, your gaze fixed on the ground, as if it held the answers to the questions swirling in your mind about Alastor and the mysterious woman.
The feelings of betrayal, the anger at the possibility of being played—it all churned inside you like a storm. Yet, doubt lingered, a voice whispering that perhaps there was more to the story than you knew.
"Coming," a voice called from within, the sound of approaching footsteps breaking through your reverie. The door swung open, revealing Cindy, her blonde hair and blue eyes a stark contrast to the chaos of your emotions.
"Hello, Cindy," your mother greeted her with an excitement that felt foreign to you at that moment. "I'm here with my daughter, Y/N."
As you lifted your eyes to meet Cindy's, you forced a smile, the mask of politeness firmly in place. But behind that smile, your thoughts were still with Alastor, wondering about the truth of his affections and the identity of the woman.
Cindy invited you inside calling James in the process. The sight of James, emerging with a tentative smile, was a reminder of the day's purpose. His shy demeanor was endearing, yet it paled in comparison to the vivid memory of Alastor's confident gaze.
The meeting unfolded like a well-rehearsed play, each line delivered with polite interest, each smile a courteous gesture. But beneath the surface, your heart remained untouched, unswayed by James's gentle charm. He was kind, yes, but he was not Alastor.
With the meeting behind you, the image of James lingered in your mind—not because of a burgeoning affection, but because of his stark contrast to Alastor. The encounter had been pleasant, yet it lacked the spark that Alastor had ignited within you.
The journey home was quiet, a reflective space where thoughts swirled like leaves in the wind. The decision to return to town was not made lightly; it was driven by a need for closure, for answers, for something that would either soothe the ache in your heart or confirm your worst fears.
The decision was made before you fully realized it; you needed to see Alastor, to seek the truth that would either calm the storm within you or unleash it.
"Mom, I gotta go to town. I need to visit Samantha; I got something to ask her," your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions inside.
Your mother's smile was one of encouragement, her thoughts on a different track, believing you sought advice from Samantha about Anthony. "Sure sweetheart, go right ahead," her words a gentle push towards what she perceived as a budding romance.
"Be careful, sweetie," her voice followed you as you walked away, a reminder of the safety net that was always there, no matter where your heart led you.
With a wave and a deep breath, you set off, the image of Alastor and the unknown woman replaying in your mind. The need for answers propelled you forward, a mix of dread and determination fueling your steps. Today, you would confront the man who had stirred such profound feelings within you, seeking clarity amidst the confusion of a kiss that felt like both a beginning and an end.
———————————
The town, once a tapestry of familiar faces and places, had transformed into a labyrinth in your quest to find Alastor. Each glance, each turn of your head was fueled by the hope of spotting him, the man who had unwittingly become the compass of your heart.
Standing in front of Samantha's shop, you paused, scanning the crowd for any sign of him. The sight of Samantha inside the shop was a reminder of the pretense you had given your mother, but the urgency of your mission left no room for distractions.
As the day bled into evening, the golden hues of sunset casting long shadows on the cobblestones, a creeping sense of despair began to take hold. The possibility of not finding Alastor loomed over you, a cloud threatening to burst.
But then, a voice that called out to you was unmistakable, a sound you'd come to associate with a myriad of emotions. "Hello darling, looking for something?" Alastor's voice was as smooth and gentle as you remembered, a stark contrast to the frantic beating of your heart.
You turned to face him, and there he was, the man who had been the cause of both elation and distress. His smile was disarming, and as he lowered himself to your level, the world around you seemed to fade into the background. His hands were casually placed behind his back, and his glasses slid just slightly down the bridge of his nose, giving him an air of casual elegance.
For a moment, you were speechless, caught in the whirlwind of emotions his presence evoked. The questions, the doubts, the jealousy—all of it was pushed aside by the sheer force of his charm. You were reminded once again of just how handsome he was, and how easily he could stir your soul.
"Everything alright, dear?" His voice brought you back to the present, to the reality of the situation.
"Yes, I... I was looking for you," you managed to say.
“For me?” a hint of surprise in his voice.
“Yes for you”you affirmed, the words barely a whisper but laden with meaning.
He stepped back fixing his glasses, his eyes never leaving yours, and in them, you found yourself lost, unable to voice the doubts and fears that had led you here. "Well here I am, what is it that you need, ma cherie?" Alastor's voice was gentle, his French endearment a soft touch amidst the tension.
"I just wanted to see you, I haven't seen you in days," choosing to keep the storm of your emotions at bay. His response was casual, as if the charged moment shared between you had been nothing but a fleeting instance. "Yes indeed, how are things?" he inquired, his demeanor nonchalant.
The frustration within you grew, a silent scream against his apparent indifference. "Everything's fine," the facade of composure intact. Yet, beneath that surface, a whirlwind of confusion and hurt raged, leaving you to wonder if the connection you felt was merely a figment of your desires. Alastor stood there, seemingly oblivious to the turmoil he'd caused.
“Would you like to come with me, dear”
The invitation hung in the air, Alastor's calm and gentle voice offering a reprieve from the storm of emotions within you. Despite the tension that clenched your fists, you found yourself unable to resist. His presence was magnetic, pulling you in with an invisible force that your heart couldn't deny.
He extended his arm, a silent gesture of companionship, and with a nod that carried the weight of your unspoken feelings, you accepted. Your arms wrapped around his, a physical manifestation of the connection that seemed to defy explanation.
"Where are we going?" The question was a whisper of curiosity, a desire to know more than just the destination.
"A jazz club, I promise you will enjoy it, darling," he assured you, his smile a constant, comforting presence.
The jazz club greeted you with an embrace of shadows and melodies. The dim lighting set the stage for an evening of intimacy. Alastor led you to a secluded table, a private world within the public domain, where the ambiance wrapped around you like a velvet cloak.
Your heart danced to the beat of the music. The jazz club, with its cocoon of melodies and whispers, became a haven where the outside world faded away, leaving only the two of you, and the music.
The waiter's question was a brief interruption to the enchanting atmosphere of the jazz club. "Would you like something to drink?" his voice almost blending into the background music.
Alastor's choice of whiskey was made with an air of certainty, a testament to his assured nature. You, seeking to add your own touch to the evening, opted for a martini.
When the waiter returned, the clink of the glasses as he set them down was a prelude to a new experience. The martini, with its clear elegance, stood as a symbol of the night's sophistication. You lifted the glass, the cool surface against your fingers a contrast to the warmth of the club.
With a sip, the crispness of the martini washed over you, a perfect blend of strength and subtlety. It was a dance of flavors on your tongue, a companion to the night's unfolding narrative. And there, in the secluded corner of the jazz club, with Alastor by your side, the evening continued to weave its magic around you.
The evening had unfolded like a melody, each moment with Alastor a note that resonated within you. The dance, the conversation, the shared laughter—all of it had woven a tapestry of connection that was hard to step away from. But as the night drew to a close, reality beckoned.
"I have to go now, Alastor," you whispered, leaning in close enough to be enveloped by the scent of his cologne. It was a fragrance that spoke of warmth and mystery, a fitting accompaniment to the man himself.
Alastor's concern was evident as he offered to walk you home. "Would you like me to walk you home? It's pretty late; I wouldn't want anything happening to you." His words were a gentle reminder of the care that had begun to blossom between you.
After a brief hesitation, where the desire to stay clashed with the need to leave, you accepted his offer. "Yes, that would be greatly appreciated." His arm extended towards you, a bridge over the threshold of the evening's end.
As you wrapped your arms in his, the simple act felt significant. Together, you stepped out of the jazz club, leaving behind the cocoon of music and dim lights, stepping into the cool embrace of the night.
“You know, you’re a great dancer,” your voice barely above a whisper. The words slipped out, fueled by the heady mix of martini and Alastor’s intoxicating presence.
He chuckled, the sound like velvet. “Thank you darling, you’re not bad yourself”
The walk home with Alastor was a continuation of the evening's enchantment, each step accompanied by laughter and the easy flow of conversation. But as the familiar silhouette of your house appeared, a sense of reality set in. You chose to part ways with Alastor, not wanting to risk the chance of your parents seeing him.
"I'll go alone from here, thank you again, Alastor, it was fun," offering him a smile that carried the warmth of the night's memories. His response was gracious, a reflection of the care he had shown throughout the evening. "It was my pleasure, darling. Now I'll wait here until you enter your home safely."
With a final smile and a fleeting kiss you turned towards your home. Alastor's figure remained, a silent guardian watching over your safe return. Once inside, you made your way to the window, the gesture of waving back to him a silent conversation across the distance. He acknowledged your signal, a nod and a wave that sealed the night's experience.
As he disappeared into the embrace of the night, you were left with a heart full of questions and a hope that the story between you and Alastor was far from over.
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🌸𝒫𝓇𝑒𝓋𝒾𝑜𝓊𝓈🌸 🌸𝒩𝑒𝓍𝓉🌸
Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list so you be updated every time. I do try to proofread but if I missed something please let me know.
Also I sometimes tend to make minor changes to the chapters.
Thank you! For reading I hope you enjoyed it.💖
TAGLIST: @magictoebean @little-slyvixen @bitchywitchygardener @diffidentphantom @catticora @cloverresin20 @phoenix666stuff @minamilinaqueen
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hotpeoplesimp1 · 8 months
Text
Dean Winchester Oneshot
Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem plus!sized reader
Warnings: MDNI, not plot, pure porn. Oral (f receiving), praise kink, thigh slapping though minor, soft!dom Dean, Dean because he is a warning, boob play, dirty talk, p in v, no protection (which is stupid, wrap it before you tap it), insecurities, body image issues. I think that’s it, let me know if I missed anything.
Summary: nothing. Just smut
Feedback is always welcome as long as it’s respectful. This is my first post so be lenient please. Have a wonderful day!
——————
“Fuck, sweetheart… You’re soaked.” Dean breathed out from above me. His green eyes blown with lust and hunger.
My body laying down on the bed, my heart pounding in my chest. Feeling extremely vulnerable and open, but also needy and desperate. Biting my lip in anticipation as he looks stares at my bare, wet pussy. Trying to close my thick thighs, my insecurities creeping into my mind. But he wasn’t having that. He grabbed my thighs and spread my legs.
“No, no.” He tsks. “Don’t you dare try to take this view away from me.” He all but growls. Leaning down and kissing me roughly, his tongue swiping over my bottom lip. I can’t help but groan softly, his hand squeezing at my waist, his other one beside my head, using it to support his weight above me. Lifting my hands up and threading my fingers through his hair, kissing him back just a feverishly.
I still couldn’t believe him of all people, Dean Winchester, liked me. This Greek God of a man, who’s the most amazing person I know. It makes no sense why he would want me. Especially considering the girls he usually goes for, the skinny, model looking ones. While I’m not “fat”, mostly because of hunting, I’m not thin either. I’ve got thunder thighs, a softer, squishy stomach, bigger breasts, and stretch marks.
Before I can get too lost in my thoughts and my overthinking, he trails his lips down my jaw. Sucking and nibbling as he goes. Arching my back into him. One of my hands trailing over his broad chest, his shirt thrown somewhere in the motel room along with my clothes. His hard on pressing against my lower stomach.
“Dean…” I whimper. His lips sucking at my collarbone. Tightening my grip on his hair. His every touch makes my skin tingle, my nerves alight as if I’m on fire.
He simply hums against my skin, smirking. Gliding his lips down my skin, to my breasts.
“God, look at these beautiful tits.” He groans. My face flushing. His calloused, strong hands on my breasts now as he squeezes at my flesh. Pushing them together, as he takes one of my nipples in his mouth. Sucking harshly. My back arching more into him as I moan loudly, bucking my hips. A rush of heat going straight to my core, wrapping my legs around his waist. Tweaking my other nipple between his thumb and forefinger, tugging softly once in a while. Sending a shudder down my spine. Twirling his tongue around my areola, then my nipple before sucking at it again. Once satisfied with the amount of attention given to one tit, he moves to the other, repeating the same thing while his hand groped and squeezes my other breast.
“Please, Dean.” I whine. I’ve got no clue what I’m asking for, just that I’m desperate for it. He chuckles lowly against my skin, sending vibrations through my body. Gliding his skilled mouth down my ribs and stomach. Littering my soft skin with kisses, as if trying to show that I’ve got nothing to be insecure about. My breath hitches when he moves down to my pelvis.
“Wh-what are you doing?” I ask shakily, breathless. Leaning up on my elbows.
“What it looks like.” He answers, still smirking. His strong hands holding my legs open, giving him access to my dripping cunt. “You trust me, right?” He checks. Wanting to make sure I am in fact ok with this and comfortable.
“Yes.” I answer without hesitation. Causing his smirk to morph into a full blown grin.
“You sure? You ok with me eating this pretty little pussy?” He teases. Making me clench around nothing.
“Yes… Please, Dean.” I whimper. My hand in his hair, tugging it slightly, making him growl in response. Sending another bolt of electricity down my spine and to my core.
He lifts my legs over his shoulders, kissing along my thighs sensually. Taking his time, his eyes closed in ecstasy. Getting more impatient, I start to squirm. Before I can complain, he licks a stripe between my folds. Letting out a shuddering moan, both my hands in his hair now, tugging at it harder. I’ve never felt so good.
“Fuck… You taste as good as I thought you would. Could spend the rest of my life like this.” He murmurs against me. Looking up at me with his beautiful green eyes, watching as I react. Wrapping his lips around my clit, sucking softly. Gasping and screwing my eyes shut.
“Eyes on me, baby.” He scolds, slapping my thigh lightly to get my attention. I jolt in surprise at the action, opening my eyes and looking down at him. My lips agape in silent moans, and my brows furrowed in pleasure. He then dived back into my pussy, eating me out like a starved man. Plunging his tongue into me, making my hips buck to get more. Moving his tongue to my clit, drawing lazy patterns on it. It doesn’t take me long to realize he’s spelling his name, the notion making my heart flutter.
I gasp when I feel one of his fingers tracing my entrance. Mewling when he slides it in, rolling my hips. “Fuck, Dean!” I whimper. Feeling him curl it in just the right place.
“God, you’re so hot like this.” He praises. My pussy clenching around his finger, causing him to groan softly. “Been dreaming of this. Making you moan my name over and over ‘til you can’t take it. Of having this perfect pussy all to myself and show you just how fucking perfect you are.” He admits.
My eyes widen in shock, never having expected that. Feeling my stomach erupt in butterflies, my face flushing. I can’t believe he… God… I’m snapped out of my thoughts once again when he slides another finger in. Groaning at the mix of pain and pleasure as his thick fingers stretch me out. His tongue and lips still on my clit, doing wonders.
“Fuck, you’re so tight. Wonder how you’ll take my cock.” He growls. Sending vibrations through my body, clenching around his digits. He slowly starts to pump them in and out, still lapping my clit with his tongue. Making dirty, sinful sounds that I should be embarrassed about, but can’t bring myself to care. Hearing him slurp against my cunt like it’s his favourite meal does things to me. My nerves on fire. He starts to pump them faster, harder, curling them once in a while and hitting my G-spot. That familiar heat growing in my belly.
“God- fuck, I’m gonna cum.” I warn. Arching my back more, grinding against his face and fingers. Tugging at his hair harder, gripping tighter. Throwing my head back in bliss.
“Do it. Cum on fingers like a good girl.” He encouraged. Sending me over the edge. My muscles tense, tightening my thighs around his head. Crying out his name, followed by profanities and praise. He keeps his fingers in, letting me ride out my high, still working his mouth over my sensitive clit. Slipping his fingers out and lapping up my juices, not missing a drop.
“Good girl.” He murmurs. Licking another stripe along my pussy. Then making his way back up my body, kissing me feverishly. Tasting myself on his lips but not caring.
“Dean…” I whimper pathetically. Trailing my hands down to his belt and unbuckling it.
“Someone’s impatient.” He teases, smirking. In retaliation I start to palm him through his jeans. Dean groans and grits his teeth. Dropping his forehead to my shoulder, peppering kisses over my skin. Quickly unbuttoning his pants and helping him tug them and his boxers down. Discarding the fabric with the rest of our clothes.
My eyes widening when I see how… well endowed he is. Wondering how the hell that’s gonna fit in me. Sensing my worry, he kisses me.
“I’ll go slow.” He promises. I nod, leaning up to kiss him again. Placing my hands on his broad shoulders, he lines up his cock. Looking into each other’s eyes as he slides in slowly. Gasping softly at the burn of him stretching me out. My breath getting caught in my throat. Resting my head against the pillows as I get used to his size. His hands on either side of my head, his muscles straining. Letting my eyes flutter closed.
“You can move…” I breathe out. Looking back up at him, seeing his jaw clenched, the vein in his neck bulging. Panting above me. Yet he doesn’t move just yet.
“Give me a minute, sweetheart…” He groans. “I move now, I’m gonna lose control and start pounding into you.” He huffs.
Feeling bold, I lean up again. “It’s ok. I trust you.” I whisper. Kissing his neck slowly. He moans and starts to move. Slowly at first, pulling back until only his tip his inside me. Then pushing back in. He does this only a couple times before picking up his pace. Slamming deep inside me and hitting my G-spot, making me cry out and moan. Digging my fingertips into the skin of his shoulders.
“Fuck… take my cock so well. So-… tight. Can feel you clenching around me…” he growls against my neck. Tilting his head down to watch as my tits bounce from the force of his thrusts. Moving his one hand to grab the headboard, his other grabbing my thigh and lifting to get a new angle. Making my eyes roll back in my head and practically scream his name. “Fuck, Dean!”
“That’s it, baby. Let me hear you.” Deb encourages. Sucking at my neck as he pounds into me relentlessly.
“Don’t stop, don’t stop!” I plead, feeling that coil tighten in my stomach.
“Trust me, I have no plans on stopping.” He assures. Causing me to squeeze his cock again, making him moan.
“M’ gonna-… fuck… I’m so close…” I whimper. Screwing my eyes shut.
“Good girl. Make a mess all over my dick.” He grunts into my ear. Still panting and groaning above me. His permission making my climax crash over me. Seeing stars and my eyes rolling back. My body shaking with pleasure, raking my nails down his back. His thrusts stutter as he gets closer, moaning loudly as I finish.
“I’m gonna cum…” he warns.
“Fuck. Cum, Dean. I want you to cum inside me.” I whimper shakily. My words sending him over the edge, spilling into me and covering my walls with his spend. He collapses on top of me, though supporting most of his weight on his elbows as to not crush me. Kissing my neck, jaw, and then my lips. Moaning against his. The kiss slow and lazy.
He pulls away, pulling out of me. I whine at the loss of the feeling of him, feeling empty. Though he stays hovering above me. Both of our bodies covered in sweat, my hair sticking to my neck and forehead, both of us panting, hearts pounding. Looking up at him with a dazed grin.
“You’ve got no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” He breathes out. Wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him in to kiss me again.
“I really like you, Dean.” I whisper softly.
“I really like you, too.” He grins.
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Text
Emotions sequel to Lust
Sebastian Sallow x f!Reader
Summary - Anon request for "I will give you my soul and both kidneys for more Sebastian smut 🥲🙏🏻 The day he calls me a “good girl”, I can die peacefully 😂"
Word Count - 1,736
Warnings - 18 + smut, characters aged up, dark!Sebastian, angst, slightly non-consenual consent scenario
A/N - I can die peacefully 😂" okay i messed myself up writing this one 🔥🔥
Sebastian felt the guilt and anger building up now that he felt sober, there were battling it out in his gut. He felt guilty about his intentions behind the potion, but at the same time he still felt angry that that was what it took. Angry at himself for not being more forward and angry at you for the same.
Your legs were relaxed around him as he layed on top of you, you forced him to look at you, "What is it Sebastian?" Your voice was soft and tired.
He sucked in his bottom lip and had a hard time making eye contact, "The potion. I - I crafted it for you and got too wasted and drank it myself."
In your post-sex brain it took you a few moments to process what it was he had just said. You felt the wind get knocked out of you and you felt completely betrayed. You let him make you vulnerable and it was all basically a lie.
You sat up quickly, shoving him off of you and clutching the bed sheets to your chest, not caring that his cum was getting all over it.
"No, Y/N, wait," he grabbed your first as you attempted to get away, but he tugged you to keep you in place.
"I still - I still wanted this. I know you did too. Merlin, you come here every day and it's all I can do not to ravish you. You walk across town like that every morning for me." You could see the arousal returning to his face. He was all pupils and flushed cheeks.
You tore your arm from his grip and stood up with tears dampening your eyes, "Then why didn't you ever? Why use some stupid position, trying to take advantage like that? I am a person Sebastian. In case you haven't noticed I'm the only one you've had for a long time."
Your voice was bitter as you left the room to scavenge for a new set of clothing and clean up the mess that you were. You couldn't decide if you were mad, hurt, scared, or all of the above. The saddest part was it's not like you couldn't have guesses the whole thing was a setup on his part. And you just stupidly fell right for it.
You collected yourself in a hurry and rushed out back to where you lodged with Sirona. You didn't want to think about Sebastian or be near him or talk about any of it.
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You woke up the next morning after having spent a long day battling with yourself over what had happened. At this point you honestly hoped things would shift back to the normal they had been, where he's just busy drinking and leaving you alone. If you were being honest, that probably started the second that you left and he wouldn't even remember what happened.
So, you decided to approach the day like normal. You did take a second look at the reflection of yourself in your mirror before stepping out though. He is still a man, not an animal, he had seen other women in his life in sleeping clothes and not acted like it was anything to blush at.
Fortunately, or unfortunately depending on who asked, Sebastian had layed in his bed for the rest of the day without a drop of alcohol. He felt like he was losing his mind because he couldn't stop thinking about you. He felt like a 13 year old boy again, rubbing one out every hour as images of you flashed through his mind. But the images were certainly not as innocent as they used to be.
You seemed so upset with him, but you weren't complaining at all as he dragged you around the house, tearing through your clothes and ravaging your body. You weren't the innocent player you thought yourself to be and he refused to accept it.
You said to him that he should have made a move and just been up front from the start, so that's what he was going to do. He was going to unleash his deepest, darkest desires on you.
He slept restlessly that night with his new plan in mind unable to focus on anything else. He had never craved someone in the way he craved you and after having had a taste with you, he was ruined without you.
He knew Sirona always let you stay at her home she kept here and it wasn't hard to find. It was always possible to find out someone's business here if you wanted to.
He rose early in the morning, probably way earlier than he'd been awake in months if not years. He knew you always came to him just before the sun started coming up so that it would be light by the time you did make it.
Everything in Feldcroft was spread out and people liked their space. Sebastian's home was located on a reasonable little plot of land that offered privacy with the wild shrubbery and trees taking root wherever they pleased.
He decided that he would wait for you in a private spot at the front of the property. He had taken to cleaning himself up and putting on simple thin night clothes just so nobody found him wandering around indecent if they were snooping.
An old oak with a thick base was where he waited for you, it was just private enough for his dirty thoughts.
You were sleepy walking up to the familiar scene before you and that's how you got taken off guard. A hand came down over your mouth and you had no time to react before being carried off with someone pressed against your backside.
You felt the rough bark of the tree as Sebstian pressed you up against it, rubbing himself against your backside and talking low into your ear, "I told you you were begging for it coming over like that. This is what you wanted from me right?"
He bunched up the skirt of your gown and wasted no time dipping his hand between your thighs causing you to cry out in surprise.
"I see you didn't change anything. There's still nothing beneath here but a needy cunt," he used his fingers to spread your lips and your vagina open, betraying you with wetness, "see? You're much too empty, there's a leak we have to do something about."
He pulled his hand back to spit on it before not-so-delicately applying pressure to your clit. His other hand had remained clamped to your mouth so you hadn't had the chance to say a word, but he whispered to you as he removed it, "You're going to be a good girl for me and be quiet right? You don't need everyone to know you're letting the town disgrace fuck you."
Your breathing was heavy as he removed his hand you drew blood from your lip biting it and trying to stay quiet. He let you rest for just a moment while he used both hands to pull the dress over your head discarded it on the ground.
You whimpered when he continued his assault on your sensitive spot, being unable to deny how good it felt and how turned on you were. He placed kisses on the soft skin of your neck before he took a good look at your full exposed figure.
He inhaled sharply, "Fuck, everything about you is perfect. And you're all mine out here, so exposed and engulfed in the pleasure of it."
You felt a bit ashamed at how close you were to the brink of an orgasm, but couldn't stop yourself from begging quietly, "Sebsatian, please don't stop. Please - "
He sunk his teeth into your shoulder and everything felt like it was too much; the rough bark on the tree, the pleasurable pain of his bite, the white hot feeling bubbling over form his rough finger tips.
Sebastian pulled you into his body, away from the tree as he clamped a hand over your mouth to cover your cries of ecstasy. You fell apart on him whether you wanted to or not, eyes squeezed shut tightly while he holds you close enough to force you to feel his solid cock.
"That's right, just like that. So quick for me today, you understand the urgency since the sun's about to come up right? You can't let anyone see you like this."
He let go of you and you stumbled forward, catching yourself on the tree to find steady ground. Sebastian wasted no time pulling his pants down to start stroking his swollen cock, wrapping a hand around his balls and squeezing them.
"Would you prefer to my balls slapping against your ass with every thrust or do you want to look at me while I ruin you."
You sheepishly turned around to meet the wet sounds of him jerking off. His cock was red and swollen and you couldn't keep your eyes off of it every time he pulled towards himself and the head peaked out of his foreskin.
He approached you and squeeze your backside, indicating for you to jump so he could pick you up and fit impale you between himself and the tree.
You wrapped your legs around him and he kept his eyes glued to your face the whole time he rubbed himself across your entrance. He entered you slowly at first, shuddering at the sensation of how good you felt.
"I love you, Y/N," his words were low and husky before he crashed his lips into yours with desperation and started fucking you at a much more aggressive pace.
You could feel him stretching you out and his pelvis was bumping against your still sensitive clit with every buck of his hips. Your arms were wrapped around his neck and you met his lips, tongue, and teeth mirroring his intense desire.
"F-fuck, Y/N,"
"Cum for me Sebastian, please," you whined, "finish making me yours,"
"I - I'm close - just for you. You're such a good girl, such a good little hole," with that he finished inside of you, fucking you until he couldn't catch his breath.
He rested his cheek against your shoulder as he continued to hold you up against him.
"That's what you wanted right? I told you I couldn't stand it anymore. So I took you."
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