#I got art blocked so I just decided to color for the time being until my brain gets pumped up again to draw.

[l0ganberry]

I have no idea where all of you came from but here's the colored version of my drawing of Husk.

[random-writing-thoughts]

Thought 206 is perfection, I just love the civilian x villain pairing so much. If you ever decide to write another part I'd love to read it

Thank you so much!!! I really like writing that one. 😁😁

Thought #206.2

Previous

Warnings: swearing, talk of abuse, physical abuse

Villain and Civilian walked down the street. Talking about everything they could think of.

Favorite color...

"Blue. You can't have a bad blue." Civilian said with a big smile.

Villain smiled back. "That's my favorite color too."

"Really?" She asked excitedly.

No. Not really. I don't have a favorite color, but I like how blue makes you feel, so now it's mine.

Villain smiled and nodded, grabbing her hand.

She squeezed his hand and started pulling him down the road.

She continued talking, with great excitement, about the paintings they had seen. The techniques. The brush strokes. The artists stories.

She stopped and her eyes widened.

"I'm so sorry. I've been talking your ear off."

Villain watched as she retreated back into herself. Putting up her walls again.

Villain pulled her closer. "I love hearing you talk about art. Don't ever feel bad about talking about things you love."

She smiled and rubbed the back of his hand with her thumb. "Thank you."

"Of course." He pulled her next to him and draped his arm over her shoulder. "Now let's get you home. You've had a long day."

She sighed. "I have. I need a big bottle of wine and some ice cream."

They started walking down the road. "Done and done. Do you want to stop on the way or do you want me to grab you some after I drop you off."

She bobbled her head. "Am I being too needy if I ask you to go after you drop me off?"

He stopped walking. "No. Did your ex make you feel like you were being too needy for asking for a small thing like that?"

Her eyes darted down to the sidewalk. "Yes. He didn't even get me birthday presents. Said I was being too needy when I asked him to get me something. Even got phys..." her voice trailed off.

Villain placed a finger under her chin and lifted it up until her tear filled eyes met his.

He smiled. "That's it. I'm not leaving your side until you realize that you are worthy of love."

Civilian wiped her eyes. "Are you sure..."

"If you say 'are you sure you want to spend time with me?' I'm going to move in with you."

She laughed.

"Don't tempt me." He said pulling her into a hug.

She buried her face in his chest.

He ran a hand through her hair. "I know it's so hard to believe it, but you are worthy of love. To at least be treated with respect."

She pulled her head back and smiled up at him.

"Thank you." She pointed across the street. "We were so close to my place. I should have waited to talk about Ex till then."

She laughed and pulled away from him.

He grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the building. "Well let's hurry in case it happens again."

They both laughed as they ran up to the building.

She let go of his hand. "I'm on the 6th floor. Bet I can beat you up there."

She turned and took off up the staircase. He chuckled and took off after her.

He caught up to her. She squealed and tried to block him from getting in front of her. He laughed and grabbed her around the waist throwing her over his shoulder.

She kicked and hit at his back playfully. He laughed and got to the sixth floor landing putting her down on her feet.

"I call that a tie." She said laughing and walking towards her apartment.

He followed her to her place and pushed the door open when she unlocked it.

It was cute. House plants in every corner. Prints of art and every kind of yarn art hung on the wall. It was cozy.

She walked in and threw her shoes and purse in the corner as she collapsed on the fluffy bean bag in the corner.

Villain looked around and found a soft blanket draped over the sofa. He threw it over her and tucked her in. Kissing her on the forehead.

"I'll be right back with your wine and ice cream. Preferences?"

She snuggled under the blankets, closing her eyes. "Moscato and cookie dough."

He nodded. "Don't fall asleep before I get back. If you do I'm going to be locked out."

She pointed at her purse. "Take the keys. Wake me up when you get back."

He smiled and looked at her small frame engulfed by the bean bag and blanket.

You deserve to be loved. I would steal the world for you Civilian.

He chuckled softly and shook his head, grabbing the keys from her purse.

A couple hours was all it took. And to think I was there to steal a painting. He paused. Which I still need to do.

He left quietly and locked her door behind him.

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

Civilian heard the door close and smiled.

Who knew? Art museums for the win.

She got out from under the blankets and went to the bathroom. She took a look at herself in the mirror.

Oof girl we've had a day.

She sighed and turned on the shower. She checked her phone as she waited for the water to warm up.

She scrolled through all the missed calls, voice mails, and text messages from Best Friend and Ex.

Ex mostly switched from blaming her to yelling at her to know her place. He kept threatening terrible things and then switching to promising to be a better person.

And Best Friend was telling her she wasn't being supportive. Telling her she was supposed to be happy for her instead of being angry. Pretty much calling her a terrible person. A bitch.

She sighed.

Once steam filled the room she got undressed and hopped into the shower humming her favorite song.

She washed her face, shampooed her hair, and shaved her legs.

A loud knock sounded through out her apartment.

Didn't he take my keys?

She turned off the water and got dressed.

She finger combed through her hair as she unlocked her door.

Wait he does have the keys. How could he have...

Someone pushed the door open knocking her to the ground.

Ex stormed into her apartment with Best Friend following closely behind.

She closed the door and locked it.

"What..."

Ex bent down and grabbed her hair roughly pulling her head up until they met eyes with each other.

"Who the fuck do you think you are? Think you can just ignore my calls and texts? Last I checked you're still my girlfriend."

He pulled her head back sharply.

"I didn't break up with you and you sure as hell didn't break up with me. So that means you have to follow the rules still."

Civilian grabbed at his hand weakly as tears streamed down her face.

"I also heard that you were walking around with another guy at the museum." Best Friend said walking to Ex's side.

She tapped Civilian on the nose with a clicking noise. "That makes you a cheater too. You can drop the holier than thou act bitch."

Ex's face reddened. "Who's the guy?"

Next

[thirdreverie]

valentine's weird shading not-a-tutorial tutorial

let me preface this by saying that i am not very good at tutorials, hence the "not-a-tutorial" in the title. let me continue prefacing this by saying that tumblr's search function is still shit and ass, making me incapable of trying to find the post i wanted to and forcing my hand into making my own instead. if anyone has the link to the post i'm talking about feel free to send it to me or something. anyway let's get into it

so the one thing that helped improve my art's lighting and shading drastically is, instead of thinking shadows being additive, is to think of light being subtractive instead. again emphasis on the words "my art" so this might not work for you personally + this probably also only really works in a digital medium, but like. what do i mean by that?

enlisting the help of that one sketch of ghost/ray i drew once, i've slapped together a few pics that may or may not help make the point i'm trying to make clearer. i dunno, but either way you're gonna want to decide where your light source is coming from first before you start. ok let's go

anyway, this is what i like to call "shadows being additive" or in layman's terms basically just drawing in your shadows by hand instead. this is probably how you've been taught to shade, and it works fine if you know what you're doing! however, since this pic of ghost just Standing There is pretty simple it makes shading this way relatively easy, but if your composition is more complex, you have a bunch of things blocking the light source, and/or you have weird perspective going on; then it might start getting pretty difficult. it sure as hell did for me in the past anyway

but. what if i told you. that there's a different way to approach shading

now introducing: "light being subtractive" aka drawing in your lights instead. in the real world, objects are naturally shrouded in darkness until a light source is present. this fact is then reflected in this shading style by having you begin with a layer filled with your shadow color before erasing the areas where your light hits (then refining it later). this style probably works better the more your knowledge of how objects reside within a 3d space is, but either way i personally prefer this shading style bc of how the shadows feel more organic to me + it works fantastic for dramatic lighting as well

honestly your layer mode doesn't even need to be set to multiply either. in a visual novel i released a while ago under a time constraint i chose to shade my sprite using pure black set to normal mode because it was faster to me than actually having to worry about the colors that come with using a multiply layer

but uhhh yeah either way that's how i got good at shading i guess by changing the way i approached doing it in the first place. hopefully this helps someone out there. idk man i'm not a professional artist or anything i just do this stuff for fun

[deep-space-lines]

Have you ever wanted to draw something but you fought due to your skill level at the time you decide not to do it

Honestly I don't think there's been a time in my life where I haven't experienced this. There's a file on my ipad I've had on the backburner for like probably over 4 years now; there's a really clear image in my head of a poster showing the detailed anatomy of an astronaut from the perspective of aliens who believe the spacesuit to be part of its body, and every time I come back to it, I keep saying I'll do it later because I just can't pull it off yet :') so yeah the struggle is real

That being said, I've personally found that apart from just 'don't draw it and let it haunt you for years until your confidence improves', there's two solutions that work for me

1: Just draw it the best you're able now, with the knowledge that it might suck (in your eyes) but there's no rule that says you can't come back and re-draw it a few months or years down the line once you've learned more, if you still want to. It can be super frustrating if you have a really concrete awesome image in your head that you know you can't execute the way you'd like, but treating it more like a rough draft than something that has to be perfect the first time around can help get around this. Genuinely I think about this post all the time now, I think it rewired my brain chemistry as an artist. Just accept it'll look bad, who give a shit!!!! If you draw the rough draft now, it'll either turn out better than you expected, or you'll figure out what you struggled with for next time. Either way you'll at least temporarily get The Image out of your head and satiate the Art Beast.

Which leads into...

2: Figure out if there's a specific aspect of the Thing that intimidates you the most and put some time into low-stakes practice with the skill that's blocking you. Usually it's gonna be something like perspective, anatomy, rendering/painting, struggling with dynamic poses, etc.

Starting a completely new skill from scratch sounds intimidating, but you're not starting from scratch, and if you sit yourself down and give it some dedicated practice, you WILL see improvement within the same day. Keep it up for a week or a month and you'll have learned a lot. If it's dynamic perspective, tell yourself "ok I am GOING to learn how to draw with perspective" and mess around with references, look up tutorials, draw other art pieces with perspective until you feel like you have a somewhat decent grasp of it. If it's anatomy or dynamic poses: (once again, cannot stress enough) use references. Trace and then copy references until you get a feel for the shapes (AdorkaStock is really good), practice figure drawing (Quickposes, Line of Action), watch Proko because they have really good videos on these things (1) (2) (3).

'Practice makes perfect' is simultaneously very correct and very unhelpful advice, but if you've got a good grasp of the fundamentals of art, picking up specific, individual skills to a 'good enough' level is not nearly as time-consuming and frustrating as trying to just get better at 'art' as a whole. It can be really good motivation tbh (at least for me), to have an image of something I want to create and telling myself "I am going to intentionally practice [indoor environments]/[perspective]/[faces]/[painting with unrealistic colors]/[insert specific skill] for a few weeks until I feel confident enough to draw this thing".

anyway sorry that was so long. idk if this is any help, just my personal experience

[kozaandramy]

Ask Koza and Ramy - Pinned Post

Rules and expectations

(Can/will be edited as issues arise)

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we have personal lives too, so we may take some time to answer

Remember to have fun!

[WARNINGS!]

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Blog info/lore:

This blog takes place in rainworld, pretty much some of the scenarios are kinda, there (or invented), so it is fine if your oc comes from a region/place our characters dont know nothing about

''Ramy speaks like tisss!''

''Koza speaks like this''

''Mod Aeott speaks like this''

"Mod Kacey speaks like this"

In the case you are roleplaying with both Ramy and Koza:

When Koza speaks to Ramy or Ramy speaks to koza, you will be mentioned so that you know to stop, then Ramy or Koza will be mentioned

we will then mention you again when you can keep rping

[This means ooc/mod talking] <- (this depends on the color of the ooc text btw)

Individual character info/lore:

Koza:

Mh? Oh, hello

''A 23 years old slugcat that has gone through lots of experimentation, abuses, and lies from the same iterator that promised to find his family which it separated him from, 16 years before, it wasn't like this, he was peacefully living with his family, until a overseen guided him to regions far away from where he was, where the iterator was, it made a deal with him: he helped it to clean a pest that was in its can, and it would find his family, the lil Koza, of course accepted, and there was peace by now, until, 6 years after, He came back telling it that the pest was gone, so it decided to finally show him where and how his family was

dead by starvation

Now, this wouldnt have happened if SOMEONE hadnt locked their shelter, right? well Koza didnt know that, so he just tried to go back to the iterator to tell him trying to not cry, but the iterator....lets say it just decided to capture him

now, this was the past, lermme speak of the present, 10 years after he got captured, founded someone to love, then lost that person and luckily managed to escape...

Koza is just there trying to survive, his hands are...well, completely filled with dry blood, but covered in some sort of bandages, unfortunately the damage was already done, so the bandages didnt really do much, he cant really use spears well, but he has managed to learn how to use 'em even in his current condition, and at least he has his slippery feet that he got from one of the experiments, it looks like if he has soap on them, but guess what? its bubble fruit juice, and well, thats pretty much Koza's story, but when everything seemed lost....he founded Her, The child that he thought that was dead, but fortunately, she was alive.''

Ramy:

[TO BE NOTED]

Notes from admins:

Hello, Kacey here ( @kaceyunderfell ), I will be Ramy in this blog :D

[This mod uses They/them with a sprinkle of any pronouns :D]

Aaaand im NSP, ( @aeott) Im Koza, the big guy here

and also the creator of this blog! Tho i would say that we both share it :]

-Mod native language isnt english, so i will probably do grammar mistakes, sorry ):

-[this mod is He/Him]

-💛🤍💜🖤

[kerykomo]

so i got my drawing tablet back after coming home from college...

comic explaination and transcription under the cut

not to get super into it like i did in a previous post, but as i mentioned in said previous post, i was struggling a lot both in different aspects of my life and creatively. which sucks, because art has been both an enjoyment and an outlet, so not even being able to use it for purposes like venting- or feeling like that i couldn't make art AT ALL was just.. so difficult. not to mention having to convince myself that it was temporary and the storm of artblock couldn't last forever.

not to say that im fully through the storm yet- but this is the biggest, longest break in my fight with artblock that i've had in a long time. all because i switched up a drawing method. normally i draw either on paper or on my ipad (used as an on-screen drawing tablet) so when i got sick of/stuck with one, i would often switch to the other. but not too long ago BOTH mediums became impossible for me to create with. i tried new pens, new colors, new styles- nothing stuck, and nothing seemed to work.

all until i finally came home from my semester away at uni, and reunited with my off-screen drawing tablet. little tiny wacom intuos comic edition from 2016 that STILL WORKS despite how many years ive used it. so i decided to make this post :)

-+-

comic transcription: i got my drawing tablet back! /pos

i'll be the first to admit it- going back to the hand-eye disconnect was WEIRD. but it was nice to go "back to my roots" in a sense- and after a few minutes of drawing the muscle memory started kicking in. it was fun. drawing was FUN.

drawing was FUN- creating was FUN. for the first time in months- YEARS of depressive art block, thinking i was just "bad" at digital art- i felt FREE. i didn't feel like i HAD to make things or else it invalidated me as an artist- i just... DID. / i came back with new skills and drawing techniques from years away and started being able to apply them and make my art look good. i was finally satisfied with what i was creating.

"I MISSED YOU LIL BUDDY!! UEUEUEUE"

[tr0ubl3d-tr4n53nd3r]

So I have this sim I play in my legacy challenge, and her whole thing is kinda about how she has a whole hair journey, and since I have no (good) wifi on my computer, here is her whole hair journey to date.

(you may know her from the handheld ports of the sims 2... Ara Fusilli!!!!)

Ara had finally moved into a house away from her father, she look very similar to how she did as a teenager, except her hair grew out a bit for her wedding. at this point she felt like her life was complete, but felt kind of lost.

Ara and Lazlo have been married for a while now, and they finally decided to have their first kid. During her pregnancy she usually put her hair up so that it wouldn't be too much of a disturbance. At this point she was unemployed, and pretty much depressed, but anticipating the arrival of Reggie.

Despite her hair barley changing, this part of her life is important to mention. (this version is her og hair but without the little bit braided). She gave birth and her entire focus in life was dedicated to her son. At her roomates wedding she contracted a deadly disease, and ended up missing his whole childhood.

While being blocked away from the whole world, with nothing to do but read and cry to herself alone about how much she is missing out on she went insane. She tore hair out of her head and it got tangled, and choppy. The room she was social distancing in was wrecked. Everything that made Ara, Ara was gone.

Through her time with the disease she damaged her hair more and more. The agressivley red box dye she always put in it started to fade, and eventually she died on christmas day... kinda. The whole time she was like this Grim was just kinda like "Oh. poor kid. I guess I'll resurrect her" (she is unlucky btw). After her revival she started a life of crime... then got to thinking.

When Ara made the connection that she literally evaded death she tried to reinvent herself. A pass time that she once did casually as a kid (painting) became her whole job. during the time she had the disease, her roomates started earning so much money, that being an artist was honestly a safe career choice. Her hair was so matted and torn out that she had to shave it, which terrified her at the time but she grew to love it as a mark of new beginnings.

Because she missed so much of her own children's life, and her roomates were so busy working all the time, she decided to help them raise their own kids, solidifying them a house for their entire childhood. She practically became a second mother to Lemon Delossantos. Her hair grew a little and she dyed it red again.

Because she spent so long taking care of the kids, her hair started getting really uneven and patchy, and she decided to embrace that. This is the beginning of her really figuring out who she is. (also her hair is starting to fade back to brown a little.)

As she watched the children she basically raised as her own (And Reggie) grow up right before her eyes, she realized that she wasn't young anymore. She couldn't participate in trends young teens did- so she went retro. Around this time her art started getting more classical, some even being displayed in museums.

On the 28th anniversary of her close call with death, she started to see her husband's hair greying. She always knew he was older than her, but up until now she didn't really realize what that meant. She got much closer with her husband and son, and made sure to spend the remaining time she had left with them... well... with them. Alot of this period of her life was surrounded with death. Her brother In laws Vidcund and Pascal, Sister-in-laws Penelope Redd and Jenny, her father. Her hair doesn't reflect that too much, but she does just let it grow out, and keep dying in her signature red color.

On that same christmas Lemon and Reggie got engaged (No that isn't weird because we'll just say that Ara was a good mother-in-law figure for her), and did a celebratory woohoo, where they got pregnant with Cheddah' and Camembert, twin boys who take after their mother and paternal grandfather in being handy (for some reason) and she had to start dealing with the idea that she is a grandmother. Around christmas time as well, Orange had a kid of his own, him being the youngest of the three in the house really set things into perspective. Jean Luc (her lowkey annoying washed up celeb of a roomate who gets his french 'oui oui' out of his pants every five minutes) was starting to fall ill (he's about 78) and had to be admitted to the hospital. His life looked bleak, setting him at about one or two years (days in game) left to live. His wife was aging as well, at about 70 years old, and her husband not too far behind, and she started to realize that she herself was old. Sure she missed 10 years to illness... which places her mentally at about 39, but truthfully she is 49. She only has about 30-ish years left of her life, and she wanted to calm down a bit. She dyed her hair back to brown and even added greying streaks to make her look her age. She wants to make sure to be a good grandma to her grandkids. She doesn't want them to miss out on a grandma (or as she would differently word it herself) like Reggie did.

Currently that is all, but from my brain she has about two more hairstyles left before death so thats fun!

[kirathehyrulian]

Non-Challenge Art 😈🐍This Blue Hell🐍😈

(Please do not edit/alter. Feel free to reblog, but please do not repost. At the very least please give me credit.)

Mwhahahahah! It is done in time for Halloween!🎃 (click, right click, click open image in new tag to get a closer look on desktop)

For more art from me please check out my “myart” tag here on Tumblr. Or my  “AO3“. 👇(Art Notes and Alts below the cut) 👇

Art notes: I’ll probably put more in depth art process notes on the AO3 post when I get around to it. But anyways, I started this sketch, I wanna say, sometime in the late summer of this year, thinking it’d be something cool to do for Halloween because I rarely ever get around to doing anything holiday theme. (Mostly because the holidays are stressful and pre-planning is not my strength) But I was having a hard to completing anything art wise during that time. All I had was a sketch, messy color placement, and some of the face rendered. Then I put it on the back burner for a while.

Then the masquerade happened and I don’t want to jinx it but I think it might have got me out of my art block, I hope? Well it was kind of a double edge sword. Because the Masquerade has a limited time frame I traced the contour lines from J2 photos or Sam and Dean episode refs to save me time. And I didn’t really stop to dwell on that too much because of the deadline until after I unmasked and posted all of my stuff to AO3.

It’s probably because of the posting anxiety I always get when submitting, but for some reason divulging that part of the process made me feel like an imposter artist or like I was taking some of the magic out of what I’ve drawn. It grew to the point where I felt like I was useless.

The rational part of my brain was trying to tell me, tracing the forms from con and episode refs was just a handy tool that I employed to speed things up for the Masquerade. The stigma that some people put on tracing isn’t (word I wish I could remember), especially for hobby art. But, my negative side wasn’t shutting up.

The funny thing is that if this someone else I believe I wouldn’t have cared if they had to trace contour lines to get the art done. I would have told them, “You brought an idea to life using the resources and tools around you. It was transformative enough that it is your own art. And don’t listen to the negative thoughts telling you otherwise. You are an artist and can draw.” But, it was myself at a low period dealing with stupid fears not based on anything happening in the present. And even if someone accused me of not being an artist it would have been the opinions of the few that shouldn’t really matter in my life.

Anyways, after I moped around for a little bit, I decided to pick the boy king!Sam project back up around last Wednesday and started pouring all my time into it. I was going to prove to my negative side that I could draw freehand without tracing.

I pretty much redid the face render I had originally and then worked my way through it all. I did the face, the top part of the snake, the neck, the bottom part of the snake, the horns, the golden stick ring thing (it’s supposed to be representative of the crown of thorns), the fire, the crown, the lighting, the font, and then lastly the dripping blood.

And after completing this project I felt some of my self-esteem build up. I can draw. Maybe not as well as I want to all the time, but I can do it. I might not always complete wip’s, or complete deadlines. I might always make mistakes. But I can draw. So, Hah, negative side of my mind. Fudge you for making me questioning that.

Anyways here’s all the alts (which is just me hiding layers on the main file to showcase certain parts without the distraction of the rest of the piece):

🎶music I listened to while working on this project:

Anyways, I think that’s it.

Enjoy, if you can!♥♥♥

[muiczhing]

muichiro x sister reader fluffy angst.

do not repost or I will slap your ass with my mother's broom. Just kidding.

╰┈➤ muichiro x sister reader.

・❥・ :: angst and fluff no smut🤨.

・❥・ :: do not repost to another platform

・❥・ :: too many grammar erros and cringness please forgive me for being a cringe person.

muichiro and y/n are siblings they should be three but yuichiro died because he was protecting his siblings from a demon that wanted to eat the three of them mom and dad Muichiro and y/n parents died their mother died due to illness/sickness and their father died because he fell down to a cliff , however kagaya and Akame manage to save both of them now muichiro is an mist hashira meanwhile y/n tokito is the blood hashira. A little bit background y/n is older than muichiro y/n is already 16years old meanwhile muichiro is 14 years old , months pass by y/n received a new missions to complete however muichiro got some too but this time he need to defeat an uppermoon, infact y/n need to cut her wrist just to perform the breathing technique,

blood breathing technique forms(not official yet).

first form —

Poisonous blood

This one , the performer need to cut their wrist just to perform this poisonous blood means

Westerian poison y/n have been drinking those with shinobu kocho once a demon touched/drink y/n’s blood will die in hell.

Second form —

bloody black hole

in this form im really sorry if it's really confusing

bloodg black hole means a bloody mud will cover your body untill you suffocate and die on the black hole yet this black hole are no room.

infinity breathing techniques —

First form —

infinity strike, infinity strike means you can kill someone just in one slash , unlike raiden shogun , she has an thunder to kill signora

But in this form the strike will kill you is the black hole

[ muiczhing: hello pips im too lazy to explain more about y/n’s breathing techniques but her

Own breathing is two yes she is like tanjiro who

can master two breathings however i got lazy and decided not to make an oc or an katana for her i will try to make if im not art blocked anymore. ]

“y/n nii-san” muichiro said while dozing off again like usual muichiro keep forgetting every

thing “ahh yes??” y/n said with calm voice “uhh..i forgotten about the thing i wanted to say” muichiro said whil dozing off and clearly want to remember the thing he wanted to say “awww that's fine im gonna make you some dango Sticks ” y/n said while getting up on the chair she is setting in “ah..arigato” “also muichiro im sorry i will be gone for a while or for a week maybe a months since i got more missions to do is it fine if we can jist hang out tomorrow or right now?”y/n asked muichiro who's dozing and thinking what color is that again “oh..okay..what color is that again?”muichiro said while scratching his chin.

• — after that day — •

Y/n go to the mountain xxxxxxx xxxxxx to kill

The uppermoon 7 kakuragashi an new uppermoon with a weakest demon blood art yet can kill someone easily.

“OHHHH HAHAHAHAHAHA I CAN SMELL FOOD HERE IT'S BEEN A WHILE SINCE I HAVE GOOD FOOD~~” the demon said qhile grinning like a hungry bitch “OH A HASHIRA” the demon said “YOU'RE THE WEAKEST RIGHT?” the demon said with an sarcastic tone “so you consider you self as strong without knowing my own abilities, however i can slices your neck easily with my infinity, you're such a looser also don't worry im the strongest after all hahaha and you are the weakest.” the demon get pissed of the throw some attack on her she quickly dogge it using water breathing technique. “water breathing technique eleventh form death calm.” as she quickly slashed the demon’s head without knowing that it has a poison once you cut off his head.

“oh i see im good handling poison do you even know that you have been drinking my blood that has a poison on it?” y/n said making a smug look that made it even more worst. “damnit you bitch i will fucking hunt you” the demonsaid the turned into Ashes.

y/n woke up and just realized that she is just dreaming his favorite anime film kemitsu no yaiba , yes she is just dreaming about it “ reality hit really different , however I'm still lucky that I'm alive in this world. I wonder if demon slayer are really true.” y/n said.

[stevetonyweekly]

SteveTony Weekly - July 17

Happy Sunday!! Here’s what I read this week. Be sure to leave your author a comment or kudos if you enjoy a story! 

***Marks my recent favorites 

~*~ 

shades of hedonism by Areiton

Sometimes, he’ll see a flash of color in a bodega, in a pharmacy while he buys water for his run, and he’ll think of that drawer swimming in expensive lipstick that Tony loves, and he flushes a little. 

the safest hands are our own by Areiton

His hands are gentle, Tony thinks, and sometimes he wonders if he’s still on the drugs the terrorists gave him. 

OR:

Tony is permanently injured after a kidnapping.

Steve takes care of him.

***One-Man Army by Captain_Panda

Takes place immediately after the Chitauri attack in Avengers 1.

Steve is running himself into the ground. Tony notices.

Then Steve gets knocked down hard. And Tony intervenes.

truth be told by meidui

“What’s one thing you haven’t told me about recently?”

Breaking Even by Captain_Panda

The world loves Iron Man.

But there's a ghost still in the machine. Steve reassures him he's still the star of his own Expo.

the hundredth by meidui

Their one hundredth birthdays and one hundredth anniversary.

Some Man's Treasure by Captain_Panda

Steve overhears a conversation between Tony and J.A.R.V.I.S. about the end of time.

Also known as pre-wedding jitters, with a dash of existential dread.

mortal gods by meidui

When Gorr the God Butcher comes, they think he’s here for Thor.

lipstick, chateau, wine colour by meidui

“I’m a little tired of playing for money,” Tony says, sweeping his chips to the side. He takes off his sunglasses, tinted wine-red, and nods to the side of the room. “I wanna play for him.”

right where we are by meidui

Steve has the day off today, so after he drops off his wife at Stark Industries for the day of board meetings she’d grumbled about all morning, he decides to take care of all the chores for the week and put together a relaxing evening for her. Of course, most of these plans are thwarted when he runs into a man standing outside their loft.

on his lips (like a prayer) by ArabellaAM 

When Steve decides to travel on his old Harley to attend a friend’s wedding, the possibility of his girl leaving him stranded in a town in the middle of nowhere doesn’t even cross his mind.

Luckily for him, that town happens to have a mechanic that might be able to help him.

Calling by Captain_Panda

There's true love, and then there's "I've been reincarnated as a dog and my sole purpose is to see you one last time."

Steve Rogers fits the latter category. Or, a modified version of the film Fluke.

silent, spoiling love by ArabellaAM

In the beginning, Steve doesn’t see anything weird in it.

Or, Steve finds a confidant in Tony and he doesn't realize just how much Tony cares about what he tells him until he starts getting lots of thoughtful gifts.

To the Victor by Captain_Panda

A former prince quietly enters his local jousting tournament.

The resident jousting enthusiast is very pleased.

That's right: it's a medieval Stony!AU.

A silent storm wrecks my being, you are beloved by captainstars 

“Five thousand doubloons.” He makes his bid. Steve’s body jerks in surprise and his eyes widen when they land on Tony across the hall. He struggles against his bonds but is pulled back by the collar. Tony is going to kill every single person who laid a finger on him, and he is going to relish in it.

***wildfires in the spring by meidui 

Steve is pulled out of the ice on a summer morning in 2010.

***Unraveling by Wikketkrikket

Steve has an art block. Toni has an idea: knitting. Because maybe Steve isn’t the most Alpha-y Alpha everyone thinks he is after all.

break me, shake me, devastate me by thesurielofficial

Tony wakes up with Steve fast asleep beside him. Steve's never stayed the night before. It's time for Tony to face the music and end this.

All I want is boundless love. by Missy_dee811

“Your report,” said Steve.

Tony groaned and got up from his chair. He put his hands in his pockets and started pacing.

Steve continued, “In your report… You neglected to mention you gave me mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.”

Strong as Death by babesrgrs

Steve is hit with a curse that has unexpected consequences, and Tony, who's never going on a diplomatic mission ever again, has a religious experience. The sexy kind.

and time can do so much by robertdowneyjjr 

Steve Rogers has a complicated relationship with time. He's the man out of time, the man who's lost everything to time.

But then he becomes friends with Tony Stark, whose love language is quality time. And that's exactly what Steve needs to find a place in this century.

[thisguydrawsandstuff]

“Wait! I’m not ready!” TickleTale TK Fic

I can’t stop writing TK fics based off of prompts lord help me

TK sans belongs to https://href.li/?https://www.deviantart.com/ghastimafrix/gallery/52054943/ocs-muses 

And Ink belongs to @comyet

TW: Tickle fic. If you don’t like it, please scroll! It is 100% SFW!

“I’m so bored,” the colorful skeleton sighed, lying in a star-position on the floor of his living-room. Well, not his living-room, per se– one of the Alternate Universe Sans he visit’s room, Tick.  “Aren’t you supposed to be like– all creative? You could draw somethin’… or somethin’.” The pink skeleton smirked, his head resting on his hand, which was perched atop the side of the couch.

“Well!- it’s not that easy, Tick!” Ink retorted, crossing his arms. “It’s like– I don’t know– I’m dry of creativity.” 

“Dry of creativity?” Tick chuckled. “That’s new. Don’t suppose there’s anything I could do?” The skeleton didn’t really think there was anything he could do to help. Sanses weren’t really known for being creative, well, except for Ink– but, if it could help his friend out of his dramatic “art–block,” he would at least try.

“Mmm, nah. Thanks though. I’ll just lay here, waiting for creativity to strike.”

Tick rolled his eyes and thought for a minute. Then, an idea struck. Honestly, Tick was surprised he hadn’t thought of this sooner.

The mischievous skeleton got off the couch, and sat right next to Ink’s body– His eyes closed, likely from boredom. “Ey, Ink,” he started, “I think I know something that will get your mind joggin’.” Tick tried not to blow his cover if he’d looked like he was up to something, so he decided to play it cool.

 “Yes, Tick? What is it?”

 Repressing a smile, Tick softly poked one of Ink’s ribs– earning a surprised jolt from ink, his body moving like a fish out of water.

Ink snapped his back up off the floor, sitting at eye level to his friend, “Ey– no,” Ink pointed at Tick accusingly, but the bossy facade the creative skeleton attempted to put off was considerably offset by the giddiness tugging at the edges of his non-existent lips. (We pretend)

“’No’ what?”

Tick poked on of Ink’s ribs again, and again– until within moments the poking turned into spidering, making Ink fall back onto the floor and try to protect his ribs, high-pitched giggles emitting from the colorful skeleton. All the while, Tick making sure Ink was comfortable and happy– he would hate to hurt his pal.

“Tihihick! Eeeehehaha!!!”

“You still haven’t answered my question, Ink!”

“Whahahat?! Whahahat quehehestion!!!”

After a few minutes Ink had successfully protected his ribs by hugging his own sides, still giggling frantically, as Tick paused to let him have a short breather.

“Well, until you remember I guess I’ll have to keep tickling you!”

As soon as Tick had noticed Ink had regain enough breath to keep going, he spared no second in jumping right back in. Only, this time, he went for Ink’s stomach– making sure his friend’s arms wouldn’t get in the way by holding them onto Ink’s chest with his own elbow.

“Wh-WhAHAHAIT– I’HIHIM NOT REHEHEA– *snort’ DEEHEEY!”

Tick immediately slowed to a stop, but not moving his position in the slightest; Ink still trapped. “No worries. Tell me when,” The skeleton teased, a cheeky smile plastered onto his face. “Wha– Noho!”

“No really, I can wait,” Tick checked his wrist as if he were wearing a watch, and proceeded to lightly drum his fingers on Ink’s stomach, making him jolt and squirm.

…

“I have noticed a severe lack of the word go– you okay back there?”

“…Yes.” It was apparent that Ink was utterly embarrassed– seeing as his face was lit with bright colors in sequence of the rainbow, which Tick could only assume to be his blush. Soon enough though, ink half-laughed, half-groaned at his predicament and gave a hefty sigh, “Gohoho ahehead.” After looking back at Ink and giving him a reassuring nod, the pink skeleton wasted no time in getting his friend to laugh; squeezing his sides, spidering his fingers up and down his stomach– you name it.  “EEEHAHAHAHA– IHIHITS SO BAHAHA– *snort* AHAHAD!!!”

“Can’t be that bad, ya big baby,” Tick retorted, giving a final squeeze to Ink’s stomach.

“Had enough? Is your motivation coming back to you?” Tick finally let’s go of Ink, sitting cross legged on the floor beside his giggling pal.

“Aha–Actually, yeah. I do feel motivated!”

“Cool. So what’s the game plan?”

Ink sat up, a mischievous glint in his eye, “Huh… let me see..” he rubbed his chin in mock concentration, “I think… THIS!”

Ink quickly jumped over to Tick, tackling him in the process, and straddling his friend’s hips.

“Ihihink– don’t you dare!” Ink rolled his eyes, as he was confident that Tick meant zero of what he just said. Nevertheless, just to tease his friend, he crossed his arms, a smug grin on his face, looking down at his giggling pal.

“I can wait~”

[hangovercurse]

I’d Drop it All for You

Pictures of you and Pete are spread all over the internet, causing a whirlwind of hate to enter your social media.

Request: “Pete content please! anything !!! smut fluff whatever”

Pete x Reader

Warnings: Cursing, depictions of depression and anxiety

A/N: *Insert normal spiel about respecting A.G. and only using her for plot purposes. No harm intended.* Also I wrote most of this after a meeting with my therapist so... enjoy :) (He’s so cute in this gif I wanna kiss his face)

Word Count: 1820

You weren’t one of those people who loved being the center of attention. You knew that being in the spotlight also meant constantly living under a microscope, and you decided a long time ago that that was not for you.

But you were lucky enough to work as an assistant art director at just 24. You were hoping that The King of Staten Island, your newest project, would help get your name out into the professional world. But that wasn’t the only thing to come out of the film.

It happened unexpectedly, you showed up on set the first day, ready to do whatever the art director required of you. You couldn’t help but be slightly distracted by the lead actor and writer, Pete Davidson. He was so kind and funny, and he wasn’t uptight like everyone else.

After a few hours of filming, he came up to you, introducing himself. He said he “wanted to get to know everyone working on the project,” but you didn’t see him introducing himself to anyone else. You two started talking during breaks. Then he started sitting with you at lunch. Then he was asking for your number.

In a matter of weeks he was asking you out to dinner, taking you to a cozy restaurant that you absolutely adored. He walked you home, his hand grazing yours until you intertwined your fingers.

It was all very romantic, so when Pete asked if he could take you on another, you obviously said yes. Flash forward two weeks and he finally got the courage to ask you to be his girlfriend, even though you were both exclusively seeing each other already.

After filming ended 2 months later, you were still working on the film in post, which meant you had an excuse to stay  in Staten Island with Pete. After about 2 weeks in post, you spent more nights in his bed than your hotel’s.

Nearly 6 months later and you were happier than ever. You were splitting your time between your small apartment in the Bronx and Pete’s basement apartment. Pete introduced you to most of his friends, and you introduced him to yours.

But other than your small circles of friends, you kept your relationship fairly quiet. Pete doesn’t have social media and yours is strictly professional, so there are no pictures of you two together. You weren’t hiding each other, you loved each other, you just had no reason to tell tabloids. And you were perfectly happy with that.

Which made it so much worse when various news sites had pictures of you two holding hands. Had they been anyone else you would’ve thought they were cute, walking along the South Beach oceanside at night.

Pete had been in the SNL studio all day when the pictures were released, while you were in his apartment, trying your best to focus on the photoset in front of you. The production team wanted the film to scream “teen romance,” which basically entails subtle pink undertones and a higher saturation. But you couldn’t quite get the coloring right, probably because you weren’t actually focusing on the colors.

You sighed, looking at the time and realizing that Pete won’t be back until sometime after 2am, which was a whole 5 hours away. You let out a huff, pushing away from the desk and making your way to Pete’s closet and searching for one of his hoodies. They always smelled like him (and weed), so it was a comfort to you.

You crashed onto the bed, finding the phone that you had tossed there a few hours earlier. Turning it on you were surprised by the number of notifications you were getting. You knew the photos had surfaced but you weren’t expecting this.

Your Instagram was blowing up with new follows, likes, and comments. It was kind of exciting at first until you started reading some of the comments.

I mean, we knew he would downgrade from Ari, but this is like… really far down.

This girl really thinks she’s special just bc Pete’s dating her. Hun he could do so much better

Who is she?!? Literally no one.

Someone needs to show her how to dress

That hairstyle is not it honey

Pete Davidson is dating YOU??? He could do sooo much better

Ari was prettier sorry not sorry

The entire comment section on your last post, a picture of you on the set of your latest film, was pretty much the same. There were some nice comments, but a lot of mean ones.

And you couldn’t help it, you couldn’t stop looking at them. It felt so cliché, but it was like all of your deepest insecurities about being with Pete were thrown out on the table.

You knew that Pete had a fairly large following, and that a lot of people had really strong feelings about him. You had expected that if and when your relationship went public you would have a lot of people watching you, scrutinizing you. But you didn’t care because Pete was worth it.

Now you weren’t so sure. It wasn’t that you couldn’t handle people talking bad about you, because you definitely could, even if it hurt. You just weren’t expecting the amount of people comparing you to Ariana or saying that Pete could do so much better.

And it only bothered you so much because you felt it too. Your inner demons loved to remind you that Pete had dated Ariana fucking Grande and now he’s dating you. Anyone could see an obvious downgrade.

You turned your phone off and threw it on the opposite side of the bed, trying to think positive thoughts. “I am in control of my own thoughts and emotions. I am catching my negative thoughts and fixing them.” You murmured your therapist’s mantra to yourself, but it was too late. The thoughts had already taken hold of your mind.

Your eyes started to water as you could feel the heavy feeling in your chest set in. You pulled the hood over your head, pulling the straps to hide as much of your face as possible, and pulling your knees to your chest. You laid like that for a while, tears falling as doubts ran through your head. Once you had effectively exhausted your thoughts, you went numb. Your tears had stopped, but you couldn’t move. This wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling, but it sure wasn’t pleasurable.

There was a sort of buzzing throughout your body, almost like the feeling when your foot falls asleep, but everywhere. It seemed to block out your sound, as you didn’t hear the basement door open. You only knew that Pete was home when he sat beside you on the bed, pulling the hood off your face.

“There’s my beautiful girl.” He smiled at you. You tried your best to fake one back, but you honestly couldn’t find the energy. Pete pulled you so you were sitting up, back pressed against his front. His arms wrapped around your middle as he pressed a kiss to your temple. “What’s goin on?” He murmured against your skin.

“Did you see them?” You asked, your voice quiet and hoarse.

Pete let out a sigh, “Yeah, I saw them.” He paused, his hold on you getting tighter, like he was making sure you couldn’t leave. “I’m sorry baby. I know you didn’t want it to be a whole big thing.”

You turned your head to face him, “It’s not that. I really don’t mind that people know. We weren’t trying to hide anything.”

He smiled, “Yeah, I know I just- it was nice having this to ourselves.”

He wanted to hide you. He’s embarrassed of you.

Your inner dialogue never seemed to shut up.

You turned away from Pete, trying to hide the tears forming in your eyes. “Yeah.” You whispered.

“What’s wrong, you’re still upset.” He rocked you in his arms, kissing the top of your head. You shrugged in response, not trusting yourself to talk. “You can talk to me, y’know.”

You nodded, leaning further into Pete’s chest. “People found my Instagram.” You murmured, looking down and tracing the arrow tattoo on his hand.

“Whaddya mean? I thought it was public?” He furrowed his eyebrows.

You sighed, wishing you hadn’t said anything. “Yeah, it is. But after all the articles people started following me and shit.”

“I would ask how that’s a problem but I deleted my Instagram so I can’t really talk.” You could tell he was trying to make you feel better, but you couldn’t seem to get out of your haze.

You shook your head, deciding to drop the matter. “It’s not, I’m just being overdramatic.” You sighed, putting on a fake smile and facing him fully. “Wanna watch a movie?” You asked, trying to change the topic.

He gave you the I-know-you’re-bullshitting-me look, which made you look down. “Something’s bothering you, Y/N. And you’re trying to pretend it doesn’t because you think your feelings aren’t valid, but they are.” He tilted his head, trying to meet your eyes that were still trained on the bedsheets below you.

“Where’d you learn that one?” You chuckled half-heartedly.

“Rehab part 2” he smiled, hand coming to your jaw to tilt your head up. “C’mon, talk to me. I wanna help.”

You huffed, moving towards the opposite side of the bed where your phone laid. You opened it, finding your Instagram, and showing him the comments. His eyebrows furrowed as he scrolled through the comments. When he decided he’d had enough he put your phone down, grabbing your waist and lifting you onto his lap so you were essentially straddling him.

He leaned his forehead against your own, your noses touching. “That’s all bullshit, you know that, right?”

You looked down, biting your lip. “Y/N you’re the most amazing, most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, okay? I’m in love with you, not anyone else.” Pete’s eyes were searching yours, trying to figure out what was going on in your head.

“I know.” You sighed, “It’s just hard to be with you and not compare myself to her. And then all these people started to do it too, and they kept saying that you could do so much better and you can. So, I dunno I guess I just kind of spiraled.”

Pete captured your lips in a long, passionate kiss. “Y/N. There is literally no better than you. I can’t do better because you are the best woman I have ever loved. “

You pulled Pete in for another kiss. “Thank you, Pete. I love you.”

“I love you too. If this happens again, I want you to call me. I don’t care what I’m doing, I’d drop it all for you.” You smiled, sitting in the arms of the guy you loved. The thoughts didn’t just magically go away, but for a brief moment in time, you were happy.

[yinses]

B R A N D E D

| he would make sure that everyone knew who you belonged to |

tattoo artist! sukuna ryomen

rating: t

a/n: this is going to be a three part series. it got too long because i couldn’t shut up. thank you to @teoran for beta reading !! 

you should have never informed yuuji that you were thinking about getting a tattoo, because of course his first response would be hey, sukuna owns a shop. why don’t you stop there. as if you didn’t already known that. your other friend, unfortunately had not known how to be subtle about it.

its when you go to hand off your card that they gasp audibly, drawing the attention of both yourself and the woman behind the counter.

“you’re not going to ask for a discount? i mean you know the owner, right?”

she jumps back quick enough to dodge the errant elbow you throw her way.

you knew you would regret telling her.

the woman is undeterred as she take your card, looking bored with the news. “so you know sukuna, huh?” the way she said it implied that it wasn’t the first time it had been made known to her.

you had known the man long enough to know where her thoughts were going with that assumption. sukuna wasn’t only popular for his art. a shudder rolled through your body at the idea of being categorized as one of his flings.

it wasn’t as though you were intentionally shaming the women. but it was sukuna. the same guy who locked you and his younger brother out on the patio whenever he was meant to keep an eye on you. and then blamed you for hiding from him when the responsible adults got home.

in hindsight, maybe you should have chosen another location. but now your card has been charged.

you scribbled your signature on the receipt, “uh yeah, awhile now. im not requesting him or anything.”

“his appointment book is full anyway. he doesn’t take walk ins.” its not said snidely, just matter of fact. as if she was seasoned with dealing with these kind of customers.

the man of topic strides in then, carrying a few bags of take-out that he drops carelessly onto the counter. he doesn’t m look unlike any other day, a loose white sleeveless shirt with a low hanging v-neck that just invited attention to his skin. the swirls of black ink made permanent by his hand only. though that was the advantage of this field and owning your own business on top of it.

sukuna was prepared to ignore the clientele planted at front desk, until he did a double take. those vermilion eyes took you in, morphing from speculation, to shock, a pinch of awe, then back to postulation.

“what are you doing here?”

a small frown mars you face. you didn’t actually consider that perhaps sukuna wouldn’t want you here. it was one thing to know the guy, but whether you wanted to accept it or not, you weren’t just another customer. so you unsurely respond with, “getting a tattoo?”

the snort he gives isn't one of annoyance. in fact its almost comforting to see the minuscule curl of his lips until they start to part, “yeah, missing something aren’t you?”

you realize with a frown that he’s referring to his brother.

“i have other friends.”

that slow smile wides as he gives your friend a brief look of appreciation. suddenly all those years of witnessing him cart his flings around rise to the forefront of your mind.  really nothing rarely changed. “ i can see that.”

his gaze cuts back to you, “what are you getting? your boyfriends name?”

you cant tell if he’s teasing, fishing or a combination of them both.

he turns to lean over the counter, arms flexing at the action and pinches the fresh design still hot from the printer. you resist the urge to shuffle in place as he inspects the image with more interest than there were lines. it was hardly all that complex, just as you intended.

sukuna finally voices his opinion, to no surprise of your own. “yeah? kind of small isn’t it?”

“its my first sukuna,” you drawl.

you realize too late that the wording isnt best around him.

“no kidding.”

he tugs a styrofoam box free from the plastic bag before gesturing to you with a tilt of his head.

“alright, lets knock it out.”

you look to the woman expecting her to complain about his pending appointments but she only returns it with a pointed look. when it came down to it, what the boss wanted goes.

right then.

turning, you address your friend who seemed more invested in watching sukuna’s departure. “are you coming?”

her gaze snaps to you and she doesn’t even bother to pretend. she shrugs, “you may not be squeamish about needles but i am.” her hand waves vaguely towards the lounge area near the coffee station and stack of assorted snacks. “i’ll come running if you scream though,” she teases as you turn down the hall.

sukuna’s voice carries from the right in guidance where you find him setting his food off to the side. the room is neat. though you don’t know what you were expecting given the health expectations lining his work. then again, you’d spent the better part of the decade watching him cart week old pizza boxes out of his room so it was hardly a baseless assumption.

aside from the desk of tools and variety of inks the only other defining feature was the wall at the back. there was no rhyme or direction to the madness. the once white wall was littered with varying penmanships and messages. almost like an autograph book. some derogatory, others genuinely thankful for his work - you think you see a few numbers too.

the cushion of the seat protests under his weight as he rolls to the center of the room. he has the stencil of your chosen art held up in expectation.

“where is this pretty little thing going?”

“oh my rib- here on the right.” you think nothing of bringing up the hem of your shirt to expose the skin just under the curve of your breast.

he almost looks impressed, though there is some doubt. he wheels closer and gives no warning as his hand palpates the area. “over the bone? that’s daring for your first tattoo, princess.”

the name was nothing new, an accompaniment to yuuji’s ‘brat’.

part of you actually grateful that its sukuna. the entire shop had good reviews but it was best known for his talent. besides, the charge was already sitting on your card.

“i can handle it.”

he’s still squinting at your side, fingers tickling at your skin.

“yeah?” he answers absently. nimble digits you didn't think had any taste for delicacy carefully peel the plastic from the stencil. he doesn’t second guess himself in the slightest before pressing it to your skin.

when he pulls away, the chair follows him as he collects a hand mirror from his desk to reflect the design back to you.

“double sure?” he’s still rallying your resolve, but there is a hint of warning to his voice as professionalism seeps in.

with a firm nod you seal the deal,” yeah.”

“aright, pin up your shirt out of the way. tuck it into your bra if you want.”

you were expecting this already, given the location you’d decided on. with sukuna that action comes effortlessly without thought. it was no different than the times he’d seen you in your bathing suit, your brain reasoned. at least you still had your pants this time.

sukuna rests back into a lean against his small desk. absently you note that his eyes haven't left you once since you’d entered the room.

“eager little thing aren't you?”

but its sukuna.

you shrug.“ i guess. kind of been saving up for this one.”

the noise he makes is non-committal as he nods to the angled chair.

without your shirt there was no barrier between yourself and the leather. you expected the cold chill but the lack of stickiness kind of surprised you. once again you were reminded of the indisputable list of reviews at your fingertips.

sukuna goes about collecting the materials to disinfect your skin, angling the bottle and cotton over the trash can to catch the excess drops. satisfied with the saturation, he slides back.

you try to absorb the brief shock you feel when he applies the alcohol to your skin. it was hardly a substitute for actual bracing to come but it was good practice. when you look up, you catch his gaze again.

he’d been more observant in these last few minutes than you could ever recall sukuna caring before. maybe it was the job. though the thought of him excelling at customer service has you fighting a snort.

“cold,” you supply and he gives another grunt.

he chucks the cotton ball into the trash with all the efficiency of a man who has made a sport out of it and probably keeps score.

deciding on a solid color eliminated the need for him to break away to change shades, eliminating any surplus time keeping you in this chair.

a gloved hand braces your side, pinching the skin, while the other holding the gun rests against your sternum. when the motor starts you take a careful breath in. sukuna’s eyes raise at the sound.

“not nervous?”

you blink, expecting him to just get to it.

“uh, not really? i’ve never really been afraid of needles.”

he pauses. just when you part your lips to ask what wrong the buzzing starts.

its impossible not to tense at the first bite of the needle. but you fight the urge to jerk. it stings. the vibration of the motor is uncomfortable against your ribcage but it's not unbearable. you certainly wouldn't cry.

sukuna seems to notice it as well.

“not going to lie thought you’d be more of a cry baby? weren't you the one sobbing after you stubbed your toe.”

you latch onto the idle chatter even if it's a jibe.

“i was eleven and i sprained that toe.”

he gives you a quick glance. “sure, princess. completely called for the waterworks.”

you snort. “yeah well it made me stronger. im barely affected today.”

your words are followed by a shift of his hand as it turns to follow a line, the movement pressing firmly against the underside of your breast. you're too attentive to the needle pinching at your skin to take notice.

but sukuna does, eyes narrowing without your awareness.

“yeah, i can see that.”

rather than closing your eyes to block out the pain, you find a more comforting distraction in tracing the lines of his tattoos with your gaze. you can hardly make out the first tattoo he’d gotten at the age of seventeen after forging his parents signature. 

the abstract design had now branched out, interlocking with new styles to map out the formation of a sleeve. it was almost like his own branded language. a dialect of bold shapes and bands. you’d never thought to actually ask what his tattoos meant. nor did you expect an honest answer.  

sukuna works rather quickly and efficiently while your mind wandered. even if he hadn’t squeezed you in during his lunch break this felt like the usual pace for him. he looked so in the zone as he followed the pre-made lines to perfection.

you weren’t the model customer, still having your brief moments of weakness but he rolled with the interruptions better than you expected. sukuna was brash growing up and didn’t tolerate nonsensical people. you’d had your fair share of opportunities to be chewed out by him.

and earned a reasonable amount of them, though your returning attitude said otherwise.

but this sukuna was softer, if you could put it like that. he knew the right time to give you breaks but didn’t let your nerves settle too much. when he wasn’t adding a layer to permanency to your skin, an errant finger would smooth over the swelling flesh.

more than once you heard him throw out a quiet good girl. that you knew was meant to be encouraging but it came with additional implications that tickled your skin.

he tells you that you should be grateful that the artwork doesn’t need any shading. that it was never a good fit for beginners.

your chest expands the furthest it had in the last half hour when he finally rolls back.

“alright, princess, go ahead and take a look.”

you take the offered mirror again and angle it to take in the fresh piece. the reflection you get back is- amazing. you’d been so concentrated?? on micromanaging the pain that you failed to take in the little details he’d added along with the original design.

as if reading your thoughts, he snorts. “it's not my art if i don't leave my mark. you can tell me it looks good you know.”

if you didn't know any better, you’d say he was authentic in his attempt to bait your approval.

and you had no reason not to provide.

your legs are a little shaky but you manage to balance yourself before brining the eldest itadori into a hug. sukuna goes stiff for a moment before returning the embrace and doesn’t resist when you press your face into his shoulder. there’s an awkward pat before they release each other from the hold.

sukuna .. before he’s shrugging you off.

“god, what a noob. at least let me cover it up. you’re going to irritate the skin.”

when he turns back to rummage through his desk you note the hint of a flush creeping up his nape. you know better than to mention it, instead just smiling at his back.

there is a scowl on his face as he applies the cotton square to your skin and tapes it in place.

“please do not itch this shit. i don’t care if you feel like your skin is going to fall off.”

he presses a small tube of antibiotic into your hand.

“and apply this daily. you don't need it drying out. “

you’re grateful for the little slip of printed instructions that follow. you were able to remember the sensible directions but it couldn't hurt to have additional guidance when you started to question the progress.

“oh and no sex.”

that was definitely not on the list.

sukuna raises a brow in all seriousness. “what? if you get your blood pumping too much.”

you call him on his bullshit,” this small? hardly. “

he raises his hands in mock surrender. “alright, try it yourself if you want. i charge for touch ups though.”

the two of you size each other up. just like old times.

with a sigh you relent, “fine, no sex.”

“good, see me in two weeks.”

his words stop you short. it wasn’t as if you needed anything added and he wasn’t a physician checking on your progress. if anything, you would only revisit your artist if there was a problem.

“what for?”

the dawning grin would follow you for the next fourteen days.

“to make sure you didn’t have sex.”

[toxic-gorgon]

Yandere Dio Brando x Reader: Useless

Synapsis: You are one of the last hamon users and while the practice itself has died along Lisa Lisa, except for a tiny handful of users. While most are willing to allow their gifts to die out and go about their daily lives, you want to put yours to good use and join the crusaders.

Content Warning: Extremely dark themes, click the read more at your own risk! Non-con, blood, yandere Dio, depression/hopelessness, corruption kink, breeding kink, dirty talk, talks of su*cide, violence, and extremely spicy themes. 18+, minors DNI! By continuing to read, you understand the risk.

When you joined the Speedwagon Foundation, you knew the chances of you dying for Mr. Joestar’s cause was almost inevitable. Your gifts were nothing compared to the powerful and unique stands that you came across during the start of your journey. You were one of the last remaining hamon users, but instead of allowing it to fizzle out like the others who trade their gifts for normal lives, you wanted to help and be useful! Lisa Lisa long passed and you heard stories of how hamon saved the world. Allowing hamon to die was allowing a part of yourself to die. 

Hamon was useless against stands, but worked wonders against humans and vampires. However, you primarily used yours for healing and support! The crusaders could use all the help they could get, so it made sense when the directors approached you for the task. Their lives are in your hands, and if it means to put an end to the vampyric Dio’s reign, then you’ll do your part and make sure these boys stay alive.

That’s what you thought at the beginning, back before your days meshed together and all time seemed to stagnate. 

You weren’t sure how many days it’s been since you first arrived in this suffocating manor in Cairo. The dark and coldness inside the manor contrasts the warm and vibrant colors outside your window during the day. You were ever the spunky one when you first arrived, you knew your friends were well on their way and you had no problem voicing that fact loudly in Dio’s presence. He would scoff, flashing you an amused grin, after all you were (as what he puts it) like a fangless, clawless feline. You don’t pose any real threat, but it’s cute to see you try. 

Dio is every bit what the rumors said. His raw charisma and power alone should frighten you, but that’s just one piece of the puzzle that’s Dio Brando. His beauty was truly breathtaking, much more so in person, his shirtless form proudly displayed like a painting hung carefully in the Louvre. His voice charmingly suave, almost a mesmerizing melody that beckons you closer like a siren’s call that you can’t block out. Worst of all was his eyes, that piercing gaze of his that can see right through you, all your worst fears and highest hopes, nothing can be hidden from this man. 

When you first arrived at his mansion, you were awestruck. Cat-got-your-tongue indeed as you drank in the imposing monster of a man, your enemy. What could he possibly want from you? His smirk makes your chest clench as the hairs on the back of your neck stood up. You wanted to run, and you would’ve if it wasn’t for you being so goddamned weak. You were completely at his fucking mercy, all he had to do was give the word and you would meet your end. You expected to die right then and there, surely a man like Dio would take out his enemy while he had the chance, just so later down the line it won’t bite him in the ass. You weren’t sure if it was out of pity or amusement, but your death never came. Instead, the cocky asshole smriks and gives you his blessing to tour his home. Hell, he even allowed you access to his library, on the grounds that if you did decide to run, you would be all too easy to catch. You were convinced this man had no real plan for you being here, besides making things much harder for the crusaders by stealing away their healer. 

You were determined to keep your head held high and wait for your knights in shining armor. 

But now, you’re just a shallow husk of despair. All the hope and conviction you had died little by little as the days went by, as those dark thoughts that Dio would mock you with began to take root. There’s no point in brainwashing you when your conviction can be shattered so easily. During the day, Vanilla Ice and Pet Shop watch over you. You absolutely loathe Vanilla Ice. His blind devotion towards his master churned your stomach, all the while he’s looking down on you and lack of stand ability. His words stung, but now they mirror static, background noise for your chaotic thoughts. 

Pet Shop was your preferred caretaker. He’s a bird, so he can’t talk like your other wardens. However, you could’ve sworn you saw that bird smirk once or twice, and his steely gaze mirrored his cocky yet powerful master. Perhaps the bird was silently judging you, even mocking you for being more caged than he was. After all, Pet Shop was allowed to move past the mansion’s windows and enjoy the fresh air and sun, even though he stayed within his bounds. A murder hawk has more freedom than you do.

The nights are always the worst. Screams of ecstasy or pain, you weren’t sure which anymore, filled the halls. After a while of being imprisoned, they all sound the same. How long before you’re next? You felt like it was any day now, and eventually your captor will grow bored of your constant banter. Perhaps that would be for the best, you’re dead weight anyway as long as you remain here.

Your friends were on a mission to save Holly, which you admit is more important than rescuing you. You knew the risk after when you joined this crusade, you just didn’t think it would end here in the lion’s den. You contemplated jumping out the window, not caring how painful the initial impact would be. You always decide against it, and instead sit and wait, chalking it up to being a coward as well. Everyday when your saviors hadn’t come, the little bit of hope inside was crushed gradually until barely anything was left besides tears of frustration and a luxurious queen sized bed to help you sleep.

Since you’ve been here, Dio took the liberty of making sure you’re fed three five star meals a day and accompanying you with a wine glass of blood. Such a gentleman, he even made idle chit-chat while you refused to take a bite (no matter how many times he told you it would be a waste poisoning you). Dio boasted about his many achievements, including how he stole Jonathan Jostar’s body, which you weren’t sure if he was just bragging or making sure that even in a casual setting, the threat still lingered. Was this supposed to impress you? Because the only responses you ever gave him were snide remarks and silence. Sometimes he would treat this like a silly game, but on days when he was more temperamental, you wisely chose to nod your head and actually eat what’s in front of you.

He made sure you were treated well, despite your situation. You bathed in a tub fit for a princess with fancy soaps and perfume, and was dressed in the finest of authentic Egyptian gowns that money could buy. All of which were gifts from Dio. He even took the liberty to do away with all your drab belongings and anything that didn’t fit his opulent aesthetic. He even gave you art supplies once. Whenever he gave one of these gifts, he always made sure to attach a rose with it. You always throw them out.

To occupy yourself when your host is gone and taking time for himself, you like to venture to his library and thumb through his vast selection. You’re sure you read over half of his stock by now, but something new always catches your eye to pass the time with. Usually you would saunter off into your room, avoiding the underlings as much as possible, but tonight was one of those nights where Dio met you there. 

“There you are darling, I was worried I missed you.” His smooth voice did little to put you in ease. 

“What do you want?” you sighed, making your way to the bookcase and browsing through different titles. Dio playfully scoffs, as always everything you say is just a game to him, and the disdain in your tone goes unnoticed. You didn’t move an inch when he moved closer to you, towering over your much smaller frame.

“You wound me dear, I only wish to spend time with you.” He leans in close next to your ear, his warm breath tickling your lobe. “Alone.” Now that’s laughable! Dio Brando isn’t a man who did anything out of kindness or ‘quality time’ without something in return. Did he run out of bodies to satisfy his hunger? What could you possibly offer him besides a snack?

“Spend time with you? I’ve seen what you do to the men and women who throw themselves at you for a sliver of attention. Their dead carcass lay about your manor like furniture when you’ve drained them.” You barely whispered. Why were you explaining his misdeeds to him like a child? You weren’t sure if you were trying to reason or reach the last thread of humanity within, but doubt was clearly written on your face. You wanted this to end.

You balled your hands into fists and shook with rage. “Just kill me and get it over with! I’m tired of you and I’m tired of being here!” 

Dio couldn’t help but sneer at your sudden outburst. How can you say these things? He’s given so much to you, and this is how you repay him? Do you not realize what you do to him? How weak he is while in your presence? How absurd. You had to have known, and perhaps you were testing his patience on purpose.

Reaching up and gripping your chin roughly, Dio kept your gaze on him. “I ask very little of you and have given you everything you could ever ask for. Tell me darling, are you truly unhappy?” his lips brush against your own, and his voice dangerously low that it sent shivers down your spine. Your voice was caught in your throat, this tower of a man standing over you so domineering makes you seem insignificant. Like a large cat ready to pounce on his prey. 

Tears run down your cheeks and you had no will to stop them. Why was he doing this to you? As if to answer your question, the blonde captures your lips and wraps his arms around your trembling form. With a jolt of energy you tried to shove him off you in defiance for your space. “Please stop, I don’t want…” you mumble. Growling, Dio pulls away and glares into your glossy puffy eyes, his brows furrowing when you don’t give in so easily.   

“Pet.” he said through gritted teeth, his hand drifting down to your neck and squeezing rough enough to cut off air supply. “You’re being selfish. All I asked from you in return is your loyalty and to surrender yourself to me.” He picks you up by your neck and amusingly smirks when you gasp and attempt to wiggle free, your hands desperate for air. Your nails grazing his skin with little scratches did nothing to phase Dio, instead he chuckles.

“Funny, isn’t it? The man’s body I’ve taken, the only man I would ever call my equal, possesses the same power as you do.” Black dots formed in your vision and your legs grew tired from flailing. He lets you drop from his grip, and while you sit slumped over and choking on air for your burning lungs, Dio looks down with his ruby hues. “Suppose my interest in you is fate, or perhaps you remind me of him.” Bending down to kneel in front of you, Dio pulls you towards his chest and picks you up bridal-style with very little resistance from you. He smirks and leans in to whisper in your ear “However, your strength will never match his.” 

Dio took flawless strides towards the desk on the other side of the room and pinned you down on your stomach against the harsh oak surface. With the wind knocked out of you temporarily, Dio traced his long nails along the soft chiffon fabric of your golden gown before tearing it to shreds down the middle, revealing your back and ass as the now useless fabric pools at your feet. Looking back at your captor’s sadistic smirk, your bloodshot eyes widen with realization. You were observant, he didn’t need to spell out what his intentions were. 

Almost immediately, Dio parts your legs with his knee and runs his fingers along your slit, examining it’s beauty before he decimates it with his cock. Squirming, you tried to push yourself up from the desk. As weak as you were, you had to try! Even though you knew Dio had more than enough strength to overpower you. As if he read your mind, he takes both of your wrists in his strong grip and pins them against your back. 

“Careful dear, you wouldn’t want me to break your arms, would you?” You stopped your struggling and stilled. It was best to get it over with and maybe if you comply, he won’t be as harsh with you, right? Just let him do what he’s going to do and don’t make it worse for yourself. “That’s better!” He smiles. “Lay there and trust your Lord Dio. Don’t worry about a single thing.” Don’t worry? How can you not? But, you did as he said and Dio goes back to running his fingers along your pussy, this time his index flicking against your clit. 

Biting your bottom lip, you shut your eyes tight. Be strong….be strong…. You chanted, but the small shocks of having your clip played with after being in turmoil for so long, it was difficult to not give yourself over for anything that can make you feel a moment of blissful ignorance. You were convinced that either Dio was a mindreader, or you were just so painfully obvious, but he stops his ministrations with your heat and leans in closer, he carelessly grinds his clothed hardened cock against you. He was quite proportioned. 

“Let’s enjoy ourselves, hmmm?” You shuddered at his words (and sizable bulge), a small whimper escaping you. Pleased with your sudden turn around, Dio leans back and without missing a beat, undoes his pants, allowing his cock weeping of precum to spring free. You swallow down a moan when his cock rubs against your clit, teasing your lips. Your cunt quickly became sloppy, as you were beginning to come around and throw caution to the wind. Dio must’ve noticed, because chuckles and mutters. “Don’t hide your cute noises from me now.”

With his cock soaked with your juices, he thrusts in and you do as he says, allowing a hoarse moan erupt from your throat that’s muffled by your face against the desk. This wasn’t going to do, not for Dio. While thrusting at a brutal pace, he yanks your hair back and lifts your head so he can listen to your lustful melodies more clearly. While you pant like a bitch in heat whenever he hits that spot to make you see stars, Dio releases your wrists in favor of gripping your hip tightly, leaving bruises. 

Gasping, you didn’t move your wrists for fear of your lord stopping or worse. Pleased by your obedience, Dio’s pace quickens, just for him to slow down to a tortuous pace. Flustered you cry “W-Why? Please….please….m-more!” You try to turn your head, but his strong grip keeps you in place. What a wonderful development! Definitely a change in the right direction from how you rejected him a few moments ago. But, Dio wasn’t quite satisfied yet. He wanted your everything, not only your spur-of-the-moment submission. He’s Dio Brando, Lord Dio to his brood. He doesn’t settle for less than satisfactory.

With a grin, Dio knew just how he would achieve this. “You beg so pretty darling, I see you’re finally coming to understand who owns you. But begging isn’t enough.” When he started moving again, this time his cock kissing your cervix, your mouth hung agape in a silent scream. Your thoughts thoroughly scrambled with nothing but the pleasure that Dio was offering you. Hell, you weren’t even coherent when your position changed to you being on your back with your legs spread wide and exposed, only for Dio. 

He picks up his pace, your cunt constricting around him as he pounds into your sore pussy, his hand now free from your hair pressed down your abdomen. He felt the slight belly bulge from him delving into your sweet cunt, simply delicious. “Darling-” He said too sweetly. “- You’re absolutely stunning so full of my cock, but I have a wonderful idea. I didn’t appreciate your attitude this evening, but I know how we can fix that!” You were too fucked out to comprehend his words, but nodded like the dumb slut you were. His dumb slut. “I’m going to breed this pussy of yours, fill you up with my cum, and you’re going to take everything I give you. Wouldn’t that be great? You grow big and round while your breasts are full with leaking milk.” He pauses as his hips sputter, his cock pulsating with the vision of you growling his children within your womb. 

“Yes..I think motherhood will suit you well. Forever my ___.” 

Whimpering, you nod in agreement. Whatever he wanted, as long as he didn’t stop. You were so very close! You mumble a breathy fuck when Dio pushes your legs up to your shoulders, diving in much deeper than before. Chanting strings of curses under his breath, Dio’s hand on your stomach drifts down to vigorously rub your sensitive nub and in almost no time at all you cum around his member, your juices rushing out to soak the desk and his cock. 

“Oh god...oh god...oh god..” you chanted, making Dio’s ego inflate more if that were possible. Smirking, he lets you ride out your orgasm, before picking up the pace yet again, this time losing control of himself for once. Brutally he fucks you, his cockhead slamming against your cervix, as your pulsing walls from your aftershocks urges his throbbing shaft, begging to milk it. After a few final thrusts, Dio stills and his cock paints your womb with his seed. 

He wasn’t done yet. Chuckling at your fucked out expression, it was so much like Dio to push for more. He wanted to mark you, make everyone but mostly yourself to know who you belong to. Your chest will do and his mark will be on full display. Using the nail on his index finger, Dio carves his name into your chest, pebbles of blood dripping down your sweaty and spent body after each scrape was made. When he is done, he admires his work, his name etched into your skin almost makes his cock spring back to life. What was he kidding, he could go a few more rounds anyway. But first, he leans in and laps up the blood, waste not want not right?

“There you are, how stunning. Darling, I wish you could see yourself right now.” Your eyes grew heavy, you were so exhausted and ready for a nap. Dio picks you up and doesn’t bother to cover you with your shredded rags. “No, no, don’t pass out now. We have a long night ahead of us.”

[aconstantstateofbladerunner]

The Glitch

I get the Broken Reality au is a haha funny joke but there’s been some legit great art for it and since Butterfly is over and I haven’t gotten into the groove of my other projects yet, I decided to try some flash fiction of my interpretations. Note that this is very small and informal; I used whatever idea came into my head over the course of an hour or so instead of the weeks of planning that go into my usual fics. This was an experiment for fun. But if people enjoy the concept, I may be tempted to expand on it.

Credit to @lollitree @moonpaw @gentrychild​ @owlf45​ and @cyber-phobia​ (I’m sorry if I missed someone I lost track of how many people were involved in this mess).

Content working for reference to infant death.

Please enjoy!

The city shut down for a typhoon warning.  Thunder rumbled in the distance.  Dark clouds blocked the sun so much that by mid-morning it still looked like it never bothered coming up.  And yet the humidity made it too hot for coffee.  Inko didn’t know how to feel.  Work would have been a good distraction.  But she didn’t want any coworkers or clients to see if today got to be too much.  And it was already shaping up to be.  She caught herself making two plates of food for breakfast.  

Inko sat alone in the kitchen.  She couldn’t bring herself to finish her own plate.  Sickness set in fast.  The food had been cold for a long time before she summoned the strength to get up and throw it away.  Then she stood over the open trash can a while, debating whether to try and hold it together, or just throw up and get it over with.  She eventually managed to keep her stomach steady enough to go back to her bedroom.  There was another trashcan in there anyway.

A sound stopped her.  From her office.  The distinct sound of something heavy falling onto the carpet.  Right as she walked past the door.

Please not this again…

She opened the door with her eyes closed.  Her mind conjured a familiar image.  A bedroom full of books and hero posters.  Bright colors and personal touches.  A child’s room.  Inko opened her eyes to her drab home office.  Some of the older case file binders slipped off the pile again.  She really needed to sort those into storage. Not today though.  She didn’t bother to pick it up.

Inko walked faster than normal the rest of the way to her room.  She doesn’t want to face the temptation to search for old toys she remembers storing in the empty closet.  Or search the walls for scuff marks from action figures tossed into them she could always see even after the walls were painted. She hid her planner on a tall shelf and put the ladder away to make it that much harder to go through it over and over looking for doctors’ appointments and school events she knew were coming up.  Finally reaching her bed brought no comfort.

Of course she knew today’s date by heart.  She hadn’t put it on a calendar in the fourteen years since she used to look at it every day.  Inko stuck her head under her pillows, as if they could block out the silent noise of her memories.  Memories of before, the time even when she was by herself, she was never alone.

Fifteen years now, today.  With a shuddering gasp, the tears finally came.  Thunder crashed outside.  It’s not fair!  Why is it still this hard after this long?  Phantom kicks in her belly joined the growing ice there.

The hardest part was she still felt like that sometimes.  Like she wasn’t really alone.  Inko didn’t believe in ghosts, but the lost of what could have been was more than haunting enough.  She felt it watching her.  Judging her. Waiting just long enough for her to settle down into a peaceful, content existence before it reared up to plague her heart all over again.  Cliché hauntings like spooky faces in the mirror or blood coming out of the drains would have been preferable.  Those would be generic enough not to remind her directly.

Rain started outside.  Her phone lit up with a notification she ignored in time with a thunderclap.  The storm was getting closer.

Maybe I should call Hisashi, the thought crossed her mind.  Maybe he’s going through this too.  She bit her lip bloody.  Her frustrated memories weren’t in question like the others.  Probably not though.  I don’t want to talk to him anyway.

Hisashi had been stuck in the denial stage of grief, which often came off as him acting like he didn’t take hers seriously.  Not a year, not even half a year looking back, after they came home from the hospital, he wanted to try again.  

“We can’t let mourning hold us up forever,” he said.  “And it’s not like we lost a once in a lifetime opportunity!  We’ve got at least another twenty years to keep trying!”

But we did lose him! she had wanted to scream.  Still did, years later.  Why didn’t he understand?  He was your loss too!  Inko wanted for the next roll of thunder, then shouted.  

“I don’t just want any baby!  I want Izuku!”

The lights went out.  The temperature rose five degrees instantly when the ceiling fan stopped going.  The rain stopped.

Power outage.  Inko sat up with a sniffle.  Turns out the notification was a warning about roving blackouts.  Of course.  Oh well. I wasn’t really in the mood to cook tonight any-

Thunder boomed even louder than before, making her jump.  Then another.  Lightning flashed outside at the same time.  It was right on top of her.

What?  I thought the typhoon wasn’t supposed to make landfall until later toni-

Another crash.  It vibrated through her bones.  Then another. The lightning lit up her whole room. Except for a shadow on the wall. Inko jolted to look, holding her breath, and found only her own shadow in the next flash.

“I’m such an idiot…”  She went for her phone again.  For peace of mind, she decided to use her data to check if an evacuation order went out. Or any updates at all really, since the weather came so much faster than the news said.  “Nothing,” she sighed annoyed.  “I hate being alone for weather like this…”

A new notification pinged.

[Mom]

Inko blinked rapidly.  The message remained.  All of her insides turned inside out in an instant, and she started crying again. Was this someone’s idea of a sick joke? No one ever got a chance to call her that.  She touched the note to open it, but nothing happened.  No app or source was displayed.  Nor did it go away after a few seconds like normal.  

“Wha- What’s going on?” she wept.  In a mix of sorrow and rage, she wound up to chunk the device across the room.  But she froze.

Outside her window, floating against the pitch-black sky, were two small orbs.  Perfectly circular and glowing.  Watching her. She didn’t dare move.  

Another ping.  She looked without moving.

[I’m sorry]

“…  What?”

For a moment, all the sounds in the world dropped out.  They all came back at ounce.

Lights flickered.  Both the ones inside and the lightning going outside.  Multiple strikes laid on top of one another.  No relief.  Thunder pounded over and over like a drum solo.  It shook the whole building.  Inko ran into the closet away from the window.  She slammed her hands over her eyes but it didn’t help.  Her terrified cried were whispers to the screams of the storm.

A child’s scream.  She heard it. Each flash of light came with a cry. The distinct sound of a little boy calling out in pain blended with unyielding nature.  It came from every direction.  Every hair on Inko’s arms stood up in fear.  She felt the charge in the air.  But she had to go out.  Her baby was crying for help.

She burst from the closet into the living room.  All the lights and appliances turned themselves on and off.  The TV showed only static between its flashes. Something drew her too it.  The storm was deafening.  It pounded through her head like a heartbeat.  The beats got faster.  The static flashes started to look like a face.  Her usual caution was abandoned as she fell to her knees and touched the screen.  The snow cleared for a single instant.  Just long enough to look like the blank eyes from the window.  She felt the heartbeat there too.

Then it stopped.  All of it. The noise and lights all went quiet and dark.  The TV went completely cold in an instant.  Inko, stunned, palmed over it looking for something.  Anything.  The pulse. Warmth.  A burnt fuse or faulty wire.  But nothing.  The rain started again.

She pulled her hands back to her lap.  Her heart was still racing and tears kept flowing down under her chin. She looked around.  Everything in the living room and kitchen looked the same. No sign of the earthquake-like convolutions the whole appartement experienced only minutes ago.  Inko combed the entire space for evidence.  An object knocked off the shelf.  A picture frame fallen from the wall.  The notifications.  Toys in the closet or scuffs in the wall.  Still not a sign.  She even stepped outside her door to check the sky.  Only light rain and shattered thunder, just like the news said the day before.

There was only one thing out of place.  Back in her bedroom, the bottom drawer of her nightstand hung open.  Inko had to steal herself before approaching it. There were only two things in there: a little green blanket, and a picture of the ultrasound.  The most recent one from her last appointment. The doctor said he was doing fine.

“Izuku…” she whispered to it in her hand.

She remembered the squealing little bundling being put in her arms for the first time.  The first time he smiled at her.  Teaching him to walk, then immediately launching into play.  Him coming home with bruises and scrapes after the kids at school were mean to him, and crying in her arms.  Then, him coming home with his first real friends in a long time. She made them all dinner. Katsudon.  That was Izuku’s favorite.

Only she didn’t remember.  The same way she didn’t really remember the toys and scuffs.  Those were fantasies.  Daydreams of what could have been.  She just thought about them so often they felt like memories. Especially today.  It was his birthday after all.  They’d fade back into vague dreams by tomorrow.  They always did.  

And she would be left with reality.  The silence.  The cold, still little hand between her fingers.  Soft cheeks without blush.  Eyes that never opened.  Clutching him too tight to her chest, knowing the second she let go he would be gone for real and it would all be over.  

But it was never over.  Inko went through this same torturous song and dance every year for fifteen now.  All the guilt and dread would subside slowly over the next one, until it all came back at once.  Just like this.

At least it’s done for now, she tried to reassure herself, climbing back into bed. It still wasn’t even noon yet.  Plenty of time for another breakdown.  Hopefully the next one won’t be, feel, as loud.  She sighed heavily into her sheets.  This sort of thing can’t be normal.  I should really try therapy again.

Against her better judgement, she kept the blanket out, and clutched it to her chest.  Static electricity pricked her fingers.  With her other hand, she reached across the bed, and tried to imagine someone else there. Not Hisashi, never him anymore.  Izuku.  He was fifteen and happy, but the storm was making him nervous so he came to lay beside her.  She remembered it like it was now.  If she closed her eyes, she could feel his warm, soft skin, with a healthy, if a little anxious heartbeat just underneath.  The mattress warped as he sighed.

“We’ll be okay.  It’s just a little rough weather,” she promised.

“Okay, Mom,” Izuku answered quietly.  “…  I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.”  I’ll start trying to get myself together tomorrow.  For now, let me have this.

Izuku didn’t respond for a while.  “I love you.”

“I love you too, baby.  Happy birthday.”

[beauty-and-passion]

Janus' playlist: “Villain” and the failure of the black/white mentality (Addendum #1)

​So.

The playlist posts were supposed to end - at least until Orange.

But Mr. Sanders decided to drop another song into Janus' playlist just for funsies, ahaha, there’s nothing important to read here, people.

Sure, Thomas. Sure.

Before starting: an obligatory thank you to the anon who warned me first and an even bigger thank you to @c2-1728-works​ who provided me an AMAZING translation directly from Korean to English you can find here. I didn’t thank you well enough, so here I am thanking you again. If this analysis will be good, it’s because of your great help.

You know the drill: as always, my posts mean me talking about everything, so read at your own risk.

_______________________________

The first foreign song

This is the first song, from every Sanders Sides’ playlist, that is mostly in a foreign language (I’m not counting Sunrise because the spanish additions were too small to be considered). Stella Jang is a korean artist, so most of the song is in Korean, while only a few lines are in English.

That's already a very Janus thing. Janus is the bearer of all secrets, Janus hides stuff from others and from Thomas himself. With this song, he's hiding something once again, this time behind a foreign language and, even more, a foreign alphabet.

This makes the song even more interesting, because if it was german, french, italian, mexican or swedish we could've still recognized some words here and there. But this song is korean and the korean alphabet is completely foreign for westerns. It's like a cipher most people can't unlock, something that requires an additional step to understand it.

Isn't that just a perfect metaphor for Janus’ character? On a surface level, he looks weird, impossible to understand, with a plan that's not clear:

[Thomas]: I don't understand. You got what you wanted. You proved that I'm not as honest as I'd like to believe.

[Deceit]: But you're still missing the point! (SvS)

But when you take that extra step, then you can understand him. And his message suddenly becomes clear.

So does Villain fit as the first of the playlist? Yes. It has all the themes and the points we already saw in Janus' playlist, with the plus of being hidden behind a foreign language.

It’s a bit like a wall: you have to climb it, if you want to enter Janus’ playlist and finally start understanding him.

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The black/white mentality

The black/white mentality is a huge deal in Sanders Sides and caused a lot of consequences we all know about, like:

The figurative split in Thomas’ Creativity that led to the creation of two separated sides (Roman and Remus)

Janus hiding at least two sides away from Thomas, because Thomas himself didn’t want to know about them

The development of an extremely strict Morality, who was willing to sacrifice Thomas’ life in order to be good at all costs

So are we really that surprised Villain talks about this mentality and how wrong it is?

Once again Janus talks to Thomas, just like he did in all of his playlist. Once again he reaffirms his points - and this time he's clearer than ever.

Some things are black Some things are white You shouldn't look through colored lenses You're the good guy He's the bad guy Your boring world is in black and white

Thomas sees things in a very straightforward way: things are either black or white. No shades in between. You're either a hero or a villain, there’s no in-between. His world is perfectly divided into two very precise (too precise) parts. And this kind of world is boring.

Do you know who that reminds me of? Remus.

[Duke]: Good and bad is all made up nonsense!

[Duke]: Why do you want to stifle your own creativity, Thomas?

[Logan]: Roman is sort of like, Netflix Kids and Family. He's the option that you select if you want to, um— [Duke]: Block out all the juicy stuff...

[Duke]: ♪ Hey Prude, your art is bad. ♪

[Remus]: A Thomas Sandwich hold the Roman lettuce. You should really make that the usual because Roman will make ya sick.

Remus has clearly shown he doesn’t like Thomas' art, too focused on "Netflix kids and family", rather than exploring all possibilities. Thomas is stifling his own creative power, by limiting it into a single choice between black or white, so it’s not as good as it could be if he also explores “the juicy stuff”.

Guys. Gals. Non binary pals. It’s the exact same mentality. Just like Janus, Remus also prefers a gray vision of the world. Just like Janus, he considers Thomas’ black/white vision plain and boring. And just like Janus, Remus wants Thomas to broaden his horizons.

(At this point, it’s basically canon that these two are friends. I mean, they can appear in the next episode and high-five each other and I won't be surprised in the slightest.)

So many shades of gray Oh, how can you still not know?

Janus reminds Thomas how the world truly is: there's nothing completely black, nor completely white. There are shades of gray everywhere. How's that possible that Thomas STILL doesn't know it? He's an adult, he should know better!

Poor Janus, he has no idea how much of an himbo Thomas is XD

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A line that says more than a thousand words

Which line do you ask? This one:

​Good easily fades away

Trust me, this line says a lot.

First of all, it’s another proof of how cynical Janus is. And this fits SO WELL with his entire playlist, because cynicism is literally one of the main foundations of it!

Also it’s... well, it’s right. There are thousands of people who do thousands of good deeds, every single day, for every month and every year. And yet, we all remember the most nefarious, terrible things: world wars, atomic bombs, nuclear disasters... no one knows the name of a little peaceful city, but we all know the names of Chernobyl and Hiroshima. Good things fade away a lot easier in our memories, compared to the bad ones.

The reason why this happens is a bit complicated. It’s not because humanity is made of horrible, ungrateful people, but because we NEED to remember bad things. That’s why we study history: we need to remember our past, to know what happened, why and how high the cost was. Because, if we forget, we would end up making the same mistakes again.

In addition to that, we’re prone to remember bad stuff from a biological point of view. If we get burned by a stove, we will remember to not put our hands on it. If we cut ourselves with a knife, we will remember to be more careful next time. Bad things leave a stronger impression on us, because they teach us something on a deeper level: how to protect ourselves. How to preserve our own lives. In other words, basic self-preservation.

Could this be the reason why Janus chose to be a villain? After all...

[Anxiety]: Putting on a dark persona is the best way to get anyone's guard up. (AA-part 2)

And being a villain is the best way to be heard. If Janus acts as a villain, if he opposes the other sides, they will listen to him more. His words will be remembered. As it happened during POF:

[Thomas]: I... made a decision with a blindfold on.

and

[Roman]: He's asking us to go back on things we've known for years, rights and wrongs, shoulds and shouldn'ts!

(And yes, Janus’ and Virgil’s way of thinking is so similar, they have so many things in common... just tell us if they’re father and son, Thomas)

But do you know what this line also connects to? Religion.

Oh, did you really think religion wouldn't be part of this analysis? Come on, we're in Janus' playlist and religion is the second foundation of it (along with cynicism). How silly of you to think there won’t be any religious references here.

As soon as I read it, this sentence reminded me of something. And the something was this passage from Luke 15:7

​"​I tell you that in the same way there will be more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents, than over ninety-nine righteous persons who do not need to repent.​"​

Even if you fail and sin, if you're sincerely sorry and repent, God will still welcome you in heaven. That's very reassuring, if compared to other more strict religions, that condemn a person even for just one single sin: they sin once and they're out forever, no second chance to save their souls.

And this is very interesting, because Janus' playlist showed a lot of connections with christianity: at first it was a solace for him (Black Hole Sun), then Janus became too cynical to trust it anymore. He became a sinner, a criminal, a devil. And we all remember the hundreds of devil references in his playlist.

But we also remember how, when we approached the end of the playlist, Janus searched for a way to repent. And this is especially evident in Criminal:

And this part too:

Cause I’m feelin’ like a criminal And I need to be redeemed To the one I’ve sinned against

The sinner, the devil, the liar, the one who abandoned religion because no matter how good he was, all of his good deeds faded away, will search for a way to repent. And he will do it for the only true reason that has always moved him: Thomas.

 I’ve got to cleanse myself of all these lies 'Til I’m good enough for him

Yes, of course Janus’ undying affection for Thomas is here as well.

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Being a villain and enjoying it

All Janus' songs have a jazzy, sensual vibe. Some are more sensual, others are more jazzy, others are more dramatic - then there's Don't Tell Mama that is the cutest, most carefree song of the playlist.

Villain reminded me a lot of this song: they both have this adorable, sexy rhythm that makes you smile. And I can perfectly imagine Janus being all smirks and grins, like the little shit he is, while singing to this song.

And this feeling got even stronger, when I listened to this part:

Think twice before you like me Because I'm a villain What makes you think otherwise? You don't know what a wicked little devil I am

If there’s something clear in this song, is how much Janus enjoys being a villain. Even in canon he really liked to be the bad guy, he got all the aesthetic right and he was undoubtely having fun while doing it. I mean, just look at him.

That’s the face of a man who loves playing the villain SO. MUCH. He’s enjoying every single part of it and has zero regrets. What an icon.

And now try to associate the words “wicked little devil” with this guy. Isn’t that something he would say of himself? Sure it is. I can see him being all like oooh I’m such a wicked little devil, I'm so dangerous!

Janus’ issue definitely isn’t low self-esteem.

But that’s not all. This part is just the beginning of a point Janus is trying to prove. Something a little more articulate than just him enjoying his life choices.

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A perfect juxtaposition

We started this song with Janus telling Thomas how wrong his black/white mentality is. Everything is too much defined, too limited, too boring. You can either be black or white, there are no shades of gray.

Fine, tells Janus. If this mentality is correct, then he should be a villain, right? He’s bad, he’s evil, he has a villain aesthetic. So since the world is divided only into two parts and you can either be good or bad, then Janus is bad. He’s a villain, he’s dangerous - and he says it with his most playful tone, almost laughing at Thomas’ naiveness.

Then, he adds this:

You're a villain What makes you think otherwise? The villain you failed to notice breathes within you

If the world is truly divided only into black and white and there’s no in-between, then Thomas should be a villain as well. After all, Janus is part of him. And he says it in the most threatening, yet meaningful way.

This sentence, "The villain you failed to notice breathes within you" is pure beauty. On a surface level, it sounds kinda threatening: there's a villain inside Thomas, a parasite that grew without him noticing and it's so deep inside him he can't get rid of it.

On a deeper level, it's a magnificent expression of how strong the connection between Thomas and his sides is. A connection that is rooted in religion as well (of course):

"Then the LORD God formed a man from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living being." (Genesis 2:7)

The act of breathing has always been associated with life - we ourselves had to exhale our first breath, in order to be alive.

And this case isn't different. Just like God, Thomas' first breath gave life to his sides, who are now breathing within him. It's not just a simple "we're here, detached from you". They are within him and part of him. Thomas is his sides and his sides are him.

We saw this perfect juxtaposition only in Logan's playlist and I am very pleased to find it here as well. It makes sense that the first two sides to acknowledge this overlap are the one who makes Thomas human (his brain, his logic, his curiosity) and the one who makes him alive (his self-preservation).

And this addition is also a way, for Janus, to motivate his reasoning. Why? Because when Janus said Thomas was a villain, the latter could've said he's not, because Janus isn't part of him. Janus is something foreign, that doesn't belong to him.

But just like in canon, Janus refutes this thought. I am part of you. I am within you. You can refuse to acknowledge me, but I'm still here. And if I'm bad, you are as well.

This leads to the next lines:

I'm killing someone maybe You're killing someone maybe I'm killing you maybe You're killing me maybe

Janus’ reasoning is challenging Thomas even more. If I am you and you are me, then everything I do, you do it as well. If Janus kills someone, then Thomas did it as well. If he's dangerous, then Thomas is as well.

[Duke]: If I am awful... then so is Thomas. (DWIT)

These two are best friends believe me.

The last two lines are also interesting because of the nuanced subtext. "I'm killing you maybe" can be read as "Maybe I am dangerous for you. This is what you think and maybe it's right. I could potentially harm you, my influence over you can be so strong to crush you".

While the next line is the reverse: I have power over you... but you also have power over me. I could be dangerous for you, but you could be for me as well.

In other words, Janus is making Thomas question the balance of powers between them. He's not stronger than Thomas and Thomas isn't stronger than him: they are balanced. They have the same power over each other.

And this is possible, because Janus is part of him.

_______________________________

A matter of perspective

Am I good Am I bad Ay  Are you good Are you bad Ay (...) Are we good Are we bad Ay What is good What is bad  Ay

Janus is openly questioning Thomas now. Am I really as bad I seem? Could it be that I am good? And what about you? Are you a good person or are you a bad person?

And he goes go even further in the next lines, by asking Thomas: "are WE good? / Are WE bad?". And "we" could refer to both Janus and Thomas... but we already saw that, in Janus’ playlist, "we" refers to the sides.

Janus is expanding his reasoning, by making Thomas question everything, even the sides he has always thought were good. Are they really good? Are they bad? Are they really helping Thomas or are they stifling him even more?

(Is he foreshadowing Patton’s role in SvS and POF? Won’t be too surprised if he did)

And again, Janus goes further and asks the most important question: What is good? What is bad? Where is the line? Is there even a line? Or are those concepts arbitrary? Once again, the similarities with Remus are striking (let's not forget Remus' "Good and bad are all made up nonsense").

The person I love the most Could be a bitch to somebody else (...) The person you loathe the most Is somebody’s beloved child

Religion? Check. Cynicism? Check. Undying love for Thomas? Check. Questioning the arbitrary concepts of good and bad in pure "fuck society" style? Check. There was just one missing theme and here it is: Janus loving his sons.

Because yes, now I can tell you everything about how these lines can be just examples with no hidden meaning, but let's not fool ourselves more than needed: these lines are all about his sons.

I mean, it's SO PERFECT. The person Janus loves the most, his beloved son Remus, is a bitch for Thomas. While the person Thomas hates the most (or at least, hated the most) is somebody's beloved child. Janus' beloved child.

Yes, I am talking about Virgil.

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All on the same boat

All villains What makes you think otherwise? You don’t know what wicked little devils we are

We’re all villains What makes you think otherwise? Look at us, the devils we failed to notice

That's the final point of Janus' long reasoning. After making Thomas question Janus' "evilness", Thomas' own evilness and the general concept of good and bad, Janus shifts the attention to the other Sides.

And he calls them all “villains”. After all, does Thomas really know his sides? He barely knew they had names. What if they're all "wicked little devils''? They can be bad just like Janus. Maybe they are bad and Thomas cannot see it. (Is Janus slightly referring to how Patton's strict moral is hurting Thomas without him noticing? Definitely)

And then, we reach the final (and first) two lines:

We all pretend to be the heroes on the good side But what if we’re the villains on the other

And this part can hint at everything.

It can hint at the creative split. And this would confirm my theory that Janus' long-term plan is to make Thomas accept all sides - hidden ones included. Because if he really cares about the creative split, that means he wants to show Thomas how unthreatening Remus is. And if he wants to show Thomas how unthreatening Remus is, that means he wants Remus to be accepted. And if he wants Remus to be accepted, he probably wants Orange to be accepted as well.

This part can also hint at Patton, especially during the wedding/callback saga. Patton himself admitted he lied, manipulated and had no clear answer to the whole issue. But he was supposed to be the good one, the one with answers. And so, he pretended to be the good guy, while actually being a villain.

But considering the use of the pronoun "we", I think these lines refer to ALL the sides. Janus is talking of them all. And he's basically revealing Thomas what the consequence of the black/white mentality was.

And what this consequence is? Forcing the sides to take a role. Are they "good"? They're heroes. Are they "bad"? They're villains.

And not only this categorization led to the creative split, not only it forced Janus to hide some sides, not only it made Patton the strict Morality he is... but it also forced them to pretend.

The Core Sides have always been considered good, so they have to be heroes. And when they're not, they still pretend to be, because this is their role. They're the good guys, so they have to be good at all costs. Even when they're actually villains.

Does that mean Janus is condemning the Core sides? Actually no. Because the use of "we" tells us something else: that if the roles were reversed, if the Others were the good guys, they would have done exactly the same.

Pretending to be good it's not a Core side problem, it's a problem all sides have in common. It's a problem due to the black/white mentality. Because if they were not forced into a hero/villain role, this would not happen. They would be free to express their points of view, without labeling them as "bad" or "good". And they would see each other just like sides and not heroes to trust or villains to defeat.

This is the perfect conclusion of Janus' long reasoning. First he made Thomas question the black/white mentality, then he made Thomas question himself, then the whole concept of what is good and what is bad and finally he gave the last hit, by making Thomas realize how this mentality affected his own sides.

And putting all of this absurdly deep reasoning as the first song of the playlist... man, that's a power move. Especially because you start with this song, so you think that this will be a kinda-philosophic playlist with clear messages... then you listen to Black Hole Sun that is pure symbolism and confusion hits you like a bus XD

_______________________________

Is this the end?

It is. For now, at least. OR AT LEAST THAT'S WHAT I THOUGHT.

Jokes asides, thank you Mr. Sanders for the interesting addition. That's a very good song, I enjoyed it a lot and I can see why it was considered a good choice for Janus. I especially enjoyed the sexy vibes this man gives. And then we're asking why he's a big fan’s favourite.

I apologize for the long post but hey, you're probably already used to it. If you're not and you liked the experience, please feel free to enjoy all my other stupidly long posts - until the next one will come.

And yes, it will come soon. Very soon.

_______________________________

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