#a true show of my art style range

[loadinghellsing]

Anderson's spirit animal is a squirrel on cocaine, and there is nothing anyone can say that can change my mind.

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[terrifictomholland]

my art, my muse

So, quite some time ago I said on here I'd write for Tom and well - here it is! It's been a fun ride! As always I can't help but to thank @worldoftom for being the very best beta a girl could ask for! So thank you very very much darling!

word count: 6.9K

warnings: look this is nothing but absolute filth! its got a whole bunch of stuff lmao - but oral (female and male) dirty talk, spitting (ooops) slight dom-Tom, please please please, if you are under 18, don't read this I don't want to corrupt youngsters!

Without further ado, enjoy!

The doorbell rang when you opened the door, entering the tattoo shop that you spotted on a whim. The idea had been brewing in your head for some time now to get a piece done, but you hadn’t been quite sure as to what to get done. The smell of leather and disinfectant burrowing into your nostrils, somewhat of a comforting smell and the sound of a tattoo-gun in use. 

“Yo! Welco- holy shit!” a curly red-haired guy cut himself off seeing you from a seat behind a counter. Your head swiveled around looking behind you as to why this guy cursed the way he did. 

“Y’alright?” you mused seeing the slight red tint on his cheeks. “I’ll willingly put money in the shit-I–say jar in a second, but I just know you’re my brothers’ walking sex-on-legs dream come true right now.” He explained and a raucous laugh exploded out of you, your head thrown back from the unexpected comment. 

“Oh? Who���s this brother of yours then?” you asked cheekily and the red-haired guy grinned. “He’s gonna be doing your tattoo seeing as how his client just cancelled on him, so you’re in luck to torture him,” he schemed and you grinned even more. 

“How interesting, thank you for the information,” to which he bowed his head. “Always happy to put Tom in a hard position,” that innuendo didn’t go unnoticed by you as you laughed once again. 

“Anyway, what’s your name? and more importantly what are you getting done and where?” He asked wiggling his eyebrows. “Aren’t you a cheeky bugger? M’names Y/N. As for the tattoo, only for me and well, Tom to know and you too maybe, find out if you’re lucky,” you winked and his eyes glittered.

“Nice to meet ya, I’m Harry and I must say, Tom might just have met his match,” he held out his hand to which you took and shook. 

It was very fun and lighthearted talking to Harry while this infamous brother of his, Tom, finished doing some work on another client. While you waited, you and Harry made some idle chit-chat and you looked around in the shop.

It was surprisingly airy and neat, a light green with dark wood finishes. Tiny knick-knacks of things that seemed like they were personal to the brothers. Such as different but very cool mulled wine bottles, an array of different Marvel figurine bobble-heads - actually, a bunch of different Spider-Man bobble-heads for some reason. 

“Hazza? Why are there so many bobble-heads of Spider-man?” you asked, glancing over your shoulder. “Hmm, Tom’s obsession since he was little,” he shrugged and you nodded continuing on to look at some very professional looking photos of a guy tattooing a client. You presumed the artist was Tom, but you couldn’t see his face. Only his gloved hand holding a tattoo gun working on a very detailed rose piece. It was stunning, both the photograph and the design of the piece. 

“Who took this photo?” You couldn’t look away from the various photos that hung on the walls, all in the same kind of style, showcasing the talent of both the photographer and the tattoo artist. They worked brilliantly together and it really showed.

“Oh! I did, I’ve shot all of these photos in here actually,” you could hear the pride in his voice and you turned to him, giving him a wide smile, “these are incredible,” to which his cheeks turned an adorable red hue. 

“Thank you,” he said modestly, “but in all fairness, Tom’s a really good sport in letting me hover over him when he’s working, he makes my job fairly easy,” he told you earnestly and so far, from all that Harry had said about this Tom, he seemed to be a really good and stand-up guy. “That’s a really nice thing to say about your sibling. But, may I ask where this brother of yours is? Not that you’re not impeccable company,” you winked.

“This brother of his is right here,” a raspy voice said from behind and you saw Harry grin and throw you a wink as you turned around. 

Oh boy.

What Harry had seemed to forgot to mention was that Tom was sex-on-legs for you, because damn oh damn. 

Standing against the door-frame to a room in the back, was easily the hottest guy you’d ever laid eyes on. You felt him give you a once-over as you did the same. Time suspended for a moment as you drank all of his features in. 

Black fitted jeans, showing off what looked to be very strong and muscled thighs which you wouldn’t mind climbing all over. Your eyes wandered further up over to his chest and arms, he was wearing a white simple t-shirt that he made look a million bucks. A broad chest and neck which you wouldn’t be opposed as to sink your teeth in and really mark him up. 

An air of confidence about the way he held and carried himself, something slightly dangerous, but in the best and more enthralling way. He wasn’t afraid to show you who was boss, and for him? You’d abso-fucking-lutely let him. 

But the killer? For sure his arms, splattered with tattoos, at first seemingly random ones but the closer you looked, they weren’t random at all. They all told a story - the story of Tom. 

You couldn’t really take your eyes off of his arms. So defined and fucking hot, his biceps were stuff you wrote poems about. So well-sculpted, as though he was made of marble. Veins running all over his forearms that just pulled you in. 

Veiny arms and hands were your ultimate weakness and something told you that he knew he was hot-shit, by the way his eyes raked all over you. 

“You’re Tom?” you cleared your throat once and a smirk formed at the corner of his lips. “The one and only,” his voice was ever so slightly husky and raspy when he spoke to you and you shuddered in delight. 

All of a sudden, getting a tattoo today was the best goddamn decision you’d made in ages if it meant getting to spend the rest of your day in the company of Tom.

He had the perfect face, a jaw sharp enough to cut glass, dark brown eyes that could read you like a book and the most perfectly kissable lips. Which you wanted to do, very badly. 

“and you are?” he prodded and you snapped out of your own little world which was full of Tom, all over you and very sweaty. “Hmm? Oh! I’m Y/N,” you recovered giving him a slight smile. 

“Nice t’meet ya,” he pushed off the door frame to come closer to you, giving you his outstretched hand. 

Fuck, he smelled intoxicatingly good as well. As if he didn’t already have everything going for him. 

“You too,” you said taking his hand and shaking it confidently and he licked his lips when your hands met, briefly looking down on them. “Wanna head back?” You swore his voice deepened ever so slightly when he said that, or it was merely your imagination. He smirked once again and you knew he knew the effects he had on you. “Lead the way,” you said and you could hear Harry snickering behind you, having watched your exchange.

“Don’t forget to wrap it before you tap it!” He shouted and you couldn’t help but the mortified laugh as Tom flipped him off. 

“Well that’s professional,” you smirked taking a seat in the chair. “What can I say, if he can dish it out he can damn well take it too,” he shrugged nonchalantly taking a seat on his chair, facing to look at you. 

“So, what are you wanting done?” all of a sudden his voice changed and he was back to professional Tom which made you smile to yourself, “I’d like a mandala,” you said after a beat seeing him pull out an iPad, pulling up a programme in where he started to draw on it. 

“Yeah? That’s cool, anything specific you want in the mandala? A specific pattern or so?” he prodded having already started to work on a design for you. 

“Nah I’m good, putting my faith in you not to fuck me up,” you grinned cheekily and he snorted, “Thanks for the vote of confidence,”.

“Anytime,” you winked and he let out a small laugh. “What about this?” he turned the iPad after a moment and you were rendered speechless, he’d drawn up the most gorgeous mandala design you’d ever laid eyes on. “Yeah, yep it’s perfect,” you hummed not being able to take your eyes off it. He smiled proudly seeing the way you looked at it, feeling a burst of warmth inside of him. 

“Where do you want it?” 

“My thigh, please,” he nodded, eyes landing on your thigh, ever so slightly moving upwards which made your insides clench. “How big?” he asked, his eyes landing on yours and you flushed imagining something else entirely. “The piece?” he added when you were still far too in your own head and your cheeks heated even more now and he smirked - a devious look in his eyes. “Oh, um, I was thinking maybe half of my upper thigh? Would it be a good size?” watching the way he fiddled on the iPad for a moment before a stencil came from the machine by all of his equipment and he smiled at you, “I think it’ll be good, I’m just gonna place it on you and if you’re not happy with it we’ll change it because I won’t let you leave here unhappy okay?” his eyes shone with earnest and it made butterflies erupt inside of you. 

“Thank you,” you gave him a warm smile and he returned it before gloving up in a black latex glove and he put some lotion on the tip of his finger, rubbing it on your skin and placing the stencil there. 

You couldn’t help but to stare at him as he worked, eyebrows pinched together in concentration, lips pursed as he moved quickly and swiftly with precision, you felt utterly at ease in his more than capable hands. 

And oh, those hands. 

Albeit gloved up, those hands were something else entirely. From the glance you got before he put those gloves on, they were slender, long and veiny in all the right places. Not to mention how skillful they were, oozed a certain kind of confidence that could completely unravel you. 

“Have a look and say what you think of the placement, if anything feels wrong we’ll fix it,” he urged, and you stood up and walked over to the full-length mirror he had and you looked at it, both in the mirror and down on your thigh. 

“It’s so good, it’s the perfect place,” he grinned feeling happy with himself you could tell. “Thank you, that makes me happy to hear,” he grinned right back and you went back to his chair that he had wrapped in cling-film while you admired your soon-to-be tattoo. 

“I’m taking it you’ve done this before, but even if it’s been a while, just a quick reminder,” he started and to be frank, you didn’t hear much of what he said except all of the innuendos he’d managed to capture in that one single sentence. “If at any point, you start feeling woozy, or just really fatigued, tell me or tap my shoulder and I’ll stop okay? I’ve got juice and snacks so just tell me yeah? I really don’t fancy you fainting in my chair,” the seriousness in his eyes made you melt inside. 

“I promise I’ll let you know if anything is bothering me,” you reassured and he gave you a quick but warm smile, a small nod before he turned to filling up his little ink caps with black ink.

“Is it just gonna be black or do you want some colour?” he asked, taping up his tattoo gun.

“Nah black will be fine,” you got yourself comfortable as the buzz of the tattoo gun came alive. Soon enough you felt the familiar sting of the tiny needles against your skin and you shut your eyes at first. No matter how many tattoos you had, the first few strokes were always the roughest. 

“You okay?” he asked as if he could read your mind. “Yeah, yeah, just getting used to the pain again,” you told him honestly and he gave you a sympathetic smile. “Sorry to say it’s too late to change your mind now, if I stop now you’ll just end up with a dickish looking line,” he smirked to distract you from the pain and it worked, it made you laugh. 

“I’ll be fine, i’m a big girl,” you braved and his eyebrows raised slightly, “Oh yeah?” his voice laced with something more, something darker. 

“Intrigued now are we?” you teased and he gave you a cheeky grin as he kept working on your piece. The pain lessening with each stroke he did. 

“Maybe,” 

“Your brother said a curious thing when I first came in here today,” you started and he momentarily stopped and looked at you very cautiously. 

“What’d he say?” 

You smirked, “Oh just something that piqued my interest is all, how I’m apparently your sex-on-legs dream come true,” and he let out a husky laugh. In that moment you felt a rush of confidence go through you knowing that Harry was right. 

“Well, he can sleep with one eye open tonight then,” he muttered and you shook your head amused, “I’m not hearing a denial,” 

“Watch it, I’m the one with a gun,” he warned going back to your thigh starting it back up. “Yeah, apparently two,” you smirked smugly. He met your gaze for the briefest of seconds and that glance alone told you everything he didn’t say out loud. 

“The mouth on you,” he muttered as he kept going on the tattoo. You felt absolutely victorious. “What’re you gonna do about it?” 

“Have half a mind to just put you over my goddamn lap,” those words went straight to your core and you sucked in a breath and by the smirk on his face, he’d heard it. Your heart thudded in your ears at the thought of his strong hands coming down on your ass, your cunt leaking all over this thigh - right here in the tattoo chair. 

Oh god damn. 

“Oh? Did I press a button there?” now it was his turn to sound all smug and mighty when you tried to ever-so-slightly shift positions. He knew he did and you really fucking liked it, you pondered how far you could let it go. 

“So what if you did?” you played nonchalantly as though this didn’t effect you in the slightest when you both knew it very much did. 

A smirk widened on his face, “well then, we’re gonna have fun in this chair aren’t we?” and that sent heat pool in your core at the words and your previous thought that flooded your mind. 

“I guess we are,” you fired back with equal amount of heat. You didn’t think you’d ever wanted someone as badly as you did in that moment, in all of your life. The time left in the chair would be unbearable with him touching you and the ache you felt between your legs. 

That’s how it went for another hour and a half while he filled in the lines and started on doing the shading, the two of you walking along a precarious line of chatting and getting to know one another and coming up with the craziest foreplay you’d ever been apart of. 

All the while you felt a consistent heat in your core that simply never faded but you tried to move past. 

“So, I’ve got a question for you,” you hummed and he glanced at you while he filled up with some more ink. “Yeah?” 

“Do you like watching tv-series?” you began and a confused look crossed his face, “sure, who doesn’t?” 

“So here’s the real question, from all the shows you’ve watched - which show has the best first kiss?” he let out a small laugh.

“Sorry babe, but that’s not really what I focus on when I watch shows,” you pouted, “c’mon! Ask me the same question then!” you tutted to which he rolled his eyes, going back to the tattoo. You winced and he noticed and stopped immediately, “You okay?” 

“Yeah yeah, just quite sore from earlier when you went over that,” you told him honestly and he gave you a sympathetic smile, “Sorry babe, I’ll be more gentle,”. That however made you perk up, “who said I want gentle?” 

“You’re fucking incorrigible,” he groaned and you giggled, “ooh look at you and those big words,” you taunted and he just sighed, “anyway, who’s the best first kiss in a show?” 

“Nick and Jess from New Girl, don’t you fucking dare tell me otherwise - that’s right! I said what I said,” you stuck your chin out daring him to say anything else. He pondered your answer for a moment before nodding, “yeah okay, fair enough, can’t argue with that kiss - it’s a really epic first kiss,” and you smiled satisfied with his answer. 

“Good answer, I approve,” 

“What do you do for a living anyway?” he changed the subject and you smiled knowing he was doing his best to distract you from a very dull pain and you were eternally grateful for it. 

“Oh you know, I’m a pornstar,” you said off-handedly and the tattoo gun went quiet and he just stared at you, “Yo-what?” 

You smirked smugly at him, “nah I’m fucking with you, I’m a florist,” you said with a whole lot of enthusiasm in your eye and he let out a laugh, “Ah damn, what a shame I thought I’d seen you somewhere on Pornhub,” he winked and you let out a loud cackle. 

“That’s meee!” you followed along and he rolled his eyes good-naturedly at the banter. 

“How do you like it?” he asked after a while, “I love it, it’s all I’ve ever known - my grandmother started the business when she was a young girl and it was passed down to my mum and now I’m running the show,” you smiled proudly and he smiled in turn hearing you speak so passionately about your family business. 

“That makes a whole lot of sense that’s your job, you were made for making others happy,” 

“That’s one of the kindest things anyone has ever said to me,” you said shyly and he gave you a tender smile. “Well you deserve to hear it,” 

                              ****

“How many do you have?” you motioned towards his tattoo on his arm, a few of them splattered here and there. “Around twelve or fifteen I think, I’ve lost count,” he sheepishly admitted. “How do you lose count?” you asked with genuine curiosity. 

“Well, it’s quite easy to forget when you get them done absolutely sloshed,” he winced and you let out a laugh.

“Which one matters the most to you?”

“Oh, easily this one, my most recent one. My dog recently died so I’ve got her little paws with me forever,” he gave you the gentlest smile and showed you the paws he had on the inside of his left arm. “I’m sorry for your loss, but it’s a beautiful way to honour her,” you gave a gentle smile in return. 

                               *****

You let out a small gasp seeing the tattoo all done in the mirror, “Oh Tom, it’s absolutely gorgeous,” you whispered in awe, unable to take your eye off of the beautiful piece, moving closer to really take in all of the tiny and beautiful details in the tattoo in all of it’s glory. 

“Thank you,” he gave you a warm smile and you knew that he took pride in your reaction and was full of pride knowing that he had made you happy with the results. 

“You’ve been the most outstanding client,” his words were genuine but ever so slightly laced with something more sinister and it made your gut clench. His eyes wandering from your thigh, moving slightly higher and you swallowed thickly. Without word you moved back to the tattoo chair, perching yourself up on it. “Have I?” he followed suit, sitting on his chair in front of you. You looked down seeing his glove-free hands and you licked your lips having fantasized about them for all this time now that you’d been there. “Mostly,” he smirked and you swung out with your leg to playfully kick him. He snorted and took your leg with ease putting it over his thigh and all of a sudden your throat went dry. 

Your eyes following his every move as he poured some lotion on his hands and rubbed it onto your new tattoo. You exhaled shakily feeling his hands on your skin. Your skin tingling from where he touched you. 

“Are we alone?” you referred to Harry as Tom inched closer to you, his hands gliding further up your thigh and you couldn’t look away from his gaze. He had you completely locked in your place as his hands barely touched your inner thigh, your heart racing in anticipation.

“Yeah, Hazza left some time ago now, it’s just us.” That’s all that was needed for the sheer unadulterated lust to take over and take charge. 

Before you knew it, your eyes met in a wild and heated kiss. The hours you’d spent riling each other up were surely paying off now as his hand wound his way to your hair, pulling on it making you whimper into his mouth. 

He bit down on your lip making you part them and he slipped his tongue inside of your mouth with ease - you fully surrendered yourself to him as you climbed over into his lap, straddling his hips. “I’ve wanted you since the moment you walked inside these walls,” he pulled away briefly letting those words wash over you. His voice full of lust and want and it drove you crazy. 

“So why don’t you fucking take me?”  his eyes were burning with barely contained fire and you sucked in a breath knowing you were in for quite the ride. 

“Shut up,” he growled, making the tiniest smirk form on your face. “Make me,” his eyebrow raised in challenge but you knew he wasn’t one to back down - neither were you. 

“Maybe I should just have your mouth stuffed if all I’m gonna get is back-talk,” that no doubt, had the desired effect on you. Your mouth salivated at the thought of Tom using you for his pleasure any way he wanted. “Fucking please,” your voice coming out far breathier than you intended. 

His whole demeanour changed and a down-right filthy smirk spread across his face as he took your desperate state in. Your erratic breathing, your whole body feeling like it was on fire from sheer lust and want. 

“Get on your damn knees then, princess,” you bit your lip nodding as you dropped to your knees, coming face to face with his bulge and all you wanted to do was devour him. 

“Do you need an invitation?” he hummed watching you with interest as to see what you’d do next. Your hands making quick work on getting him out of his jeans. His cock was straining through his boxers and you licked your lips, it was all you could think about. But for a brief moment all you wanted to do was savour this moment, before you took off the last piece of clothing, leaving him completely naked. It was something so thrilling this part, you’d always felt that way. You glanced up at him through heavy-lidded eyes as you removed his boxers, his breathing laboured, flushed cheeks and his eyes never leaving you, keeping you locked in place and it was unbearable in the best way possible.

His fingers wrapping in your hair, nudging you forward towards his cock, all angry and red, tip covered in pre-cum that you used as glide to work your hand up and down his length. His cock hot and pulsating in your hand as you gave him a few tugs. A low moan falling from his lips, “fuck,” he breathed, urging your mouth towards him. 

“What should I do, sir?” you taunted, your hot breath falling on his cock, so close yet so far away. “Fucking suck,” he ordered giving no room to argue and you let out a moan when you engulfed his cock, feeling the weight of it on your tongue. 

You were giving Tom the performance of your life, but oh my, it was the most rewarding blowjob you’d ever given. He was so responsive to every little thing you did. “Fuck, oh,” he moaned running a hand through his own hair - you could tell a small part of him was holding back and you didn’t want that. 

“Stop holding back,” 

“Sure?” his voice was wrecked and you looked up at him, mouth full of his cock giving him a nod. 

 “God the sight of you, such a pretty cock-slut for me aren’t you?” He pushed your head further onto his cock and you whimpered, feeling your panties getting absolutely soaked by the second. He must’ve had an innate ability to sense all of your kinks, such as dirty talk was the way straight to your cunt. “You gonna take all of me? Be a gagging mess for me?” he kept going and you whined against him. 

“Please, fucking please,” was all you managed to say before Tom took over, fucking your mouth making the most obscene noises you’d ever heard. All of them going straight to your throbbing cunt. You closed your eyes, feeling his cock hit the back of your throat and you gagged quite a few times which only spurred him on. “Oh yes, the best fucking cockslut,” he grunted, his grip on your hair tightening. You preened at the praise feeling like the best girl for him.

Just when you thought he’d cum, he pulled you off of him and you looked at him confused with mascara running down your face, cheeks flushed and eyes glazed over. “oh babe, what a sight you are,” he grunted running a finger over your swollen lips. You grabbed his hand, pushing his finger in your mouth and his eyes darkened shoving another one in and your eyes fluttered shut. 

“You’re just begging to have your holes filled aren’t you?” he tsk-ed and you whined, nodding your head, feeling drunk on lust. He removed his fingers and you opened your eyes, watching him for what was next. Instead of answering you he slated his lips over you and it went straight to your head, letting yourself get lost in the kiss and you let him guide you. 

“I just bet that cunt of yours is drenched now huh?” he hummed against your lips, the air of confidence returning to him. “Why don’t you find out for yourself?” 

His large, warm hands pushed your skirt way up, letting it bunch by your waist and his fingers danced across your inner thighs making you squirm trying to get his fingers where you needed them most. 

“Don’t be impatient,” he tutted and you stilled at once, your breathing coming out laboured. “Sorry, so sorry sir,” you breathed letting out a moan feeling his lips on your neck, nibbling and biting on the sensitive skin there, causing tiny goosebumps all along your arms. 

“My oh my, what a filthy slut you are, I just bet you love letting me use you however I want huh? All this from sucking my cock?” he drawled and you shut your eyes in embarrassment when he felt your drenched panties. Hell, your juices ran down your legs - you were that turned on. “Yes sir, I’m such a slut,” your hips moving forward desperately needing his fingers inside of you. 

“You really are,” you bit your lip, batting your eyelashes at him, “what’re you gonna do about it?” 

His hands moved to your hips, gripping them tightly, “do I strike you as a person who will just..give you the answer to that?” he searched your eyes and you gulped. Your faces so close together you could practically touch his lips with yours, your breath falling onto each others. “Yes?” he tilted his head sideways and your stomach flipped. 

“No then?” he smirked, trapping you with his arms on each side of you. “No babe, we’re gonna have some fun now - so,” he hummed running his finger tips along your collar bone leaving you a shivering mess. “Why don’t you show me just how desperate you can get you filthy slut hmm? Beg for it,” he nearly growled and it had you in a puddle, your cunt clenching around nothing. 

“Please, please sir, please touch me,” the words just fell out of you, a desperate and almost incoherent mess by now. “Touch you where?” his fingers working on removing your top, and he drew in a breath seeing your tits, both of them pierced and hard as rocks.

“Say it,” he growled, flicking your nipple making you gasp. “My cunt sir, please touch my slutty cunt,” 

“Good girl,” he lowered his head, lips finding your neck and moving lower down to your tits taking one of the swollen buds in his mouth and you moaned, arching your back and pushing your tits in his face feeling him pull and tug on them with his teeth. His large hands cupping your free one, playing with it whilst the other continued to tug quite roughly with his teeth causing your body to jolt forward and goosebumps to run over your entire body. “Oh god,” but he was generous and switched, giving the other tit the same lavicious treatment and you were in heaven. 

Your head falling back and your legs spreading automatically and you felt him rip your panties from your body. “Fuck that’s hot,” you moaned running your fingers in his hair.

“You ain’t seen nothing yet,” he murmured, moving to your other nipple, lavishing it with the same amount of attention. You bucked your hips trying to get him to touch you, but he wasn’t biting. 

“Fucking please! Sir!” you begged almost to the point of tears, you’d never been this sexually frustrated and it drove you mad with Tom’s teasing and torture which was so delicious. “Don’t you get fucking bratty with me or I’ll shove these in your mouth,” he warned holding up your panties and your jaw went slack. “That’s what you want isn’t it you filthy whore? You want your own cunt juice all over yourself while I fuck you senseless,” your cheeks burned in embarrassment once again. His eyes were dancing with raw desire for you now, his eyes never leaving yours as he bunched your soaked panties into a ball, shoving it in your mouth and you moaned, nodding your head that this was okay. 

“I haven’t even touched you yet and look at you,” he hummed, his finger ghosting over your folds and you nearly collapsed, you were so ready for him, for whatever he would give. 

“Fuck,” he cursed at how easily his finger slid past your folds due to your slick and you swallowed letting the pleasure roll through you, against your panties feeling his thick and long finger disappear with little resistance, exploring your walls and your eyes rolled back, letting his finger expertly move in and out of you. 

“More,” you muffled out as tears formed in your eyes, needing so much more. “What a greedy little whore you are,” he smirked adding a second finger, finding a rhythm with ease and you cried out. He was building up his pace, paying close attention to every little reaction you made. He angled his fingers up and further in and your vision turned hazy when he found the spot. The one where your toes curled and you screamed out against your panties, your orgasm rocking into you from nowhere and he fucked you through it and then some, letting you ride your high for as long as possible. 

He carefully removed your panties from your mouth once you calmed down and collected yourself ever so slightly. He licked his fingers clean and you let out a weak moan at the sight, “That’s hot,” you hummed licking your own lip and he smirked. “You good?” he pressed a kiss to your temple and you nodded. 

“Best fucking orgasm of my life,” you concluded and he laughed. 

“You think we’re done so soon?” you lifted your head glancing at him, “We’re not?” 

“Fuck no princess, we’re barely getting started. I’m gonna fuck you into oblivion and then I’m gonna have a real good taste of that cunt of yours before I’m letting you leave here,” and that was a promise. 

It made your stomach drop and fill with anticipation, “So what’s next?” you were game for anything and everything. “Get in front of the mirror and spread your legs,” 

Well, fuck. 

You did as told, walking over to the mirror on shaky legs, your heart racing in anticipation for what was in store. 

Your skin prickled, feeling Tom come up behind you, his cologne mixed with sweat surrounding your senses in the best way. His solid chest pushsing against your back, his fingers gliding along your waist and hips up and down causing goosebumps all over. 

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” his voice low and husky and you closed your eyes at the sensation of having Tom’s lips over your neck, sucking rough marks on the delicate skin there.

“Feels so good,” you twisted your fingers in his hair and you let out a breathy moan when his hands snaked up to your tits and he cupped them. Rolling the hardened buds between his fingers causing your back to arch and you tried to rub your legs together to ease the ache between them ever so slightly to no avail. “Is this all it takes? Pathetic, is that why you had them pierced? To be used and tugged til’ you’re a crying mess?” his eyes were sparkling with mischief. 

“Please,” you whined craning your neck to look at him, only to see his burning eyes watching you. He was just as affected as you, you could feel it now too, his cock pressing into your lower back and you moaned softly. 

“Look at me,” he ordered and you obliged, he gave you a hard kiss and you eagerly kissed back as his hand snaked to your front, toying with your cunt, running his finger along your sopping wet folds and your knees buckled. 

He pulled away from the kiss, holding your chin with his free hand and you hissed when he circled your clit, your slick making the glide of his fingers so easy. You were just about to look away when he motioned for you to open your mouth to which you did and he did the hottest fucking thing you’d ever seen. 

He spat right into your mouth and you nearly came right then and there. He must’ve sensed it too because a wicked smirk formed. “Oh you like that huh, you filthy little thing?” just to prove his point, he did it again and you swallowed thickly, your vision hazy from lust. 

He pulled away for a moment and he rummaged through his clothes, returning with a hand on his cock, stroking it and you couldn’t keep your eyes off of his condom-clad cock, wathcing the way his wrist flicked at the tip.

“Such a pretty cock,” you bit your lip, watching as he walked up to you, his hand finding your front once more, easily slipping a finger inside and fucking you open simultaneously as he pushed you against the mirror, making sure that the two of you had the perfect view to watch what was going to happen next.

“Best put on the show of a life time huh slut?” he growled in your ear, slapping your clit and you cried out. The pain hurting so good and Tom lifted your leg up, making the slide into you easier and you both let out a ragged breath at the sensation of your walls clamping down around him. “Fuck, fuck oh Tom,” you gasped as he bottomed out and you had to take a few breaths to steady yourself. 

“The tightest cunt I’ve ever felt,” he grunted, nails digging into your hips that you were sure was going to leave a mark. You couldn’t form words any longer once Tom started fucking into you, his hips doing the lord’s work and all you could do was hang on and enjoy the ride. Which you very much did. 

You loved the way his cock felt inside of you, the way he was rolling his hips finding new bursts of pleasure inside of you that you didn’t even know existed. You screamed out when he angled his hips up, finding your g-spot and he started rutting into it over and over until you were a quivering mess, barely able to stand up. 

“Fuck that feels so good, sir,” Your breath coming out in short pants, tiny fireworks going off behind your eyelids as Tom figured out your body and what made you tick. 

He tsk-ed you, a free hand finding your clit, rubbing it in circles. “Come on, cum for me, let me feel you cum all over my cock. Show me what a good little whore you can be,” he growled and with those words, something inside of you snapped like a coil. 

A dam coming undone as your orgasm wrecked throughout you, screaming his name over and over as he fucked into you giving you what you so desperately wanted. 

“Such a fucking sight you are,” he moaned, his hips jerking as he came into the condom, his hips working their way inside of you. You watched in the mirror his facial expression as he came, eyes glassed over, cheeks flushed and jaw slacked. “Nothing like you,” you hummed, clenching your muscles and he groaned loudly putting his sweaty forehead against your neck. “Fucking shit,” he cursed finally calming down and you whimpered when you felt him slip out of you, already missing the feeling of him inside of you. 

“Wow,” he panted, slipping away from you, removing the condom and tossing it in the bin. You smiled lazily, sliding down against the mirror sitting on the floor completely spent, drinking in the sight of him. 

He really was the sexiest guy you’d ever laid eyes on. Muscles in all the right places and the juiciest ass that you simply wanted to sink your teeth into, if given the opportunity - god did you hope you’d get the opportunity to do this again. 

“Wow indeed,” he looked over at you, giving you a small chuckle when he saw you on the floor. “Y’alright?” he came over with some paper towels, giving you a bashful smile as though to say ‘sorry it’s the best i’ve got’. You took it nonetheless, carefully wiping yourself clean the best you could. “That was ..absolutely mindblowing,” you confessed honestly,  and his eyes lit up, a wide smile taking shape across his pretty face that left you molten at the sight. “It was pretty fucking sensational,” he agreed easily.

A moment passed between the two of you, your head resting on his shoulder as a comfortable silence washed over you, “so, what now?” you hummed feeling how your body finally relaxed after all it had been through, both the tattooing and getting the railing of a lifetime all in the same afternoon. He chuckled softly, “I don’t know about you but this has made me famished, so, wanna grab some dinner?” his voice turned surprisingly soft and unsure which made you grin, “aren’t you a smooth one then? All shy and bashful,” you teased and he let out a laugh, rolling his eyes, “well?”

“Yeah, let’s go for some dinner,” you agreed and he got up a hell of a lot more smoothly than you, Tom having to help you up and your legs were so shaky still. “Fuck,” you cursed walking on wobbly legs - of course Tom noticed it and he smirked proudly. 

“Shut up,” you muttered and he let out a laugh, “You can’t honestly think that this won’t give me such an ego boost, you can hardly walk and that’s all me,” he wiggled his eyebrows which infuriated you, “and here I was going to say we should definitely do this again sometime, buuuut,” you trailed off and he scoffed, pulling his shirt over his head. “Oh princess, you know we’re ending up in bed together again, no doubt,” he radiated confidence as he was checked you, not so subtly, out and it made your cheeks burn as you got dressed. 

“First, you buy me beer and dinner,” he let out a groan, walking behind you and you felt his eyes on your ass, “god, marry me already,” he begged and you couldn’t help but to be helplessly enamoured by him. 

“If that’s your way of proposing, you suck,” you shrugged and he clutched at his heart, “come on now, Romeo,” with that, you waited outside for Tom to close up the parlour.

“Thanks for waiting around,” he smiled, reaching for your hand and lacing your fingers together and you felt the same jolt of electricity as before when he touched you. 

“Anytime, something tells me you’re worth waiting around for,” you laced your fingers together as the two of you walked down the street and into a pub. 

if there's people still around to read ill tag a few of you

@duskholland @tetralea @thirsttrapholland @thefallenbibliophilequote @xoluvx @greenorangevioletgrass

[wolven91]

The Artist's Eye

"Why does it look so strange?" Asked the noble, tilting his head one way, then the other.

"I believe it's wider than it should be. I have a summer home that has those buildings in the background there..." A scaled, clawed hand points at the backdrop of the portrait. "The buildings are far thinner in real life. Everything is wider than it should be." Claimed the second noble, another male whose tongue briefly flicked out from between his scaled lips and lapped at the blue liquid in his delicate glass.

The pair of them continued to observe the giant portrait painting of an ursidain general. It was unheard of, and completely novel. A painting! With oils and hand-crafted hues and paints. If one leaned in, and observed the collection from the side, one could even see the uneven strokes and application of the paints against a canvas. The subject didn't matter, the ursidain was practically unheard of, but his commissioned painted was on loan to the ssypno people for a gallery event, featuring a human artist.

His style was unknown, his methods unorthodox to the point of being unheard of outside of ancient texts that describe using chintian fur brushes.

"Wider? I would say this would be the wrong portrait to observe if we are wanting to check if the human's eye adds inches to the subjects girth!" Tittered the noble, gesturing at the rotund ursidain. Unbeknownst to them, the general had been delighted at his portrait and only at the promise he could have another done, did he relinquish possession of his painting.

The two nobles approached another painting, this one of a member of House Sa'vurn. 'The Promised Daughter', one 'Desh Sa'vurn', the people's favourite.

The two nobles joined a third, a female who was coiled directly in front of it.

"Her eyes are rather alive, don't you think?" The noble asked openly, drawing the two male's attention. It was true, Desh's eyes followed them. One of the males felt judged, as if the people's favourite Sa'vurn had found him wanting, whilst the other found them angry, as she were posed to strike him.

"If you observe each of his subjects, they are all observed in one fashion or another, but it is their eyes where he has put in more detail than other artists." The noble observed.

"Why? I would know more of the subject if her body posture made sense. Her shoulders are back, but her tail coiled? Her hood is flared yet not a dot of heat."

"Of course there's no heat, it is an oil painting." The lady sighed, pointing out the obvious. "We are observing what the human sees."

"No heat? Boring." Moaned the judged male.

"Fascinating I say. We are stripped down to our most basic parts. There is no lying when standing in in front of his easel. He ignores or is blind to our attempts to show our heat, to radiate what we want others to perceive." Extrapolated the lady noble, referencing how almost every single ssypno in the gallery was displaying as much heat as they could in their hoods, to show that they were successful and didn't need to conserve their heat. She frowned as she reached out, only to stop herself from touching the canvas.

"I do wonder why do many portions are left so dark?"

"I can answer that my lady." Came a lyrical voice from behind. The trio of ssypno turned at once and met the eye of an esquinine. He didn't flinch, or close one eyes, but met their gazes without fear in turn.

"I have been privy to the human's art from the beginning, he rented my loft when he arrived on our home world." Explained the long-faced empath.  "The portions that are dark to you, are actually a sea of different colours, but more in the hues of purples and dark blues. I'm afraid these are colours outside of your visual range."

The trio of large serpants turned back to the art and squinted, as if trying to force their vision to focus and draw forth a colour they'd never seen.

"It is one thing to know one has limited visual colours, it is another to stand before what we know is there and be unable to see it." The female noble lamented.

"Ugh, annoying. Why would he paint a ssypno with colours a ssypno can't see? Insulting."

"He paints for his own enjoyment; it just so happens that others consider this art worth money. Amazing than an artist is more creative when they aren't starving." Noted the esquinine before bowing curtly and leaving the ssypno behind. The esquinine meandered through and over the tails that trailed behind the various gallery patrons before slipping into a side down and strutting down a quiet hallway.

He came to a door, pressed his thumb to the reader then stepped inside.

The human was sat watching the screens.

"How's it going?" He asked, nervously nibbling on a nail. The esquinine stepped over and gently slapped the top of the human's hand, reminding him to stop with the nervous habit.

"Well. They still don't quite 'get' it, but then they are the upper crust. Dry and tasteless." Observed the empath, who turned to watch the screens as a crowd of ssypno tried to force their own world view onto art made by a wholly different species with a very different life to them.

"It's fun seeing ignorance get exposed over and over though..." Considered the esqunine, resting his head against a finger.

"Just because I see the world differently..." Mumbled the human, mildly frustrated.

"Galaxy, and I would be quick to point out they love to remind you, that you are smell blind. I think its rather justified to remind them that they are blind to a whole world of colours, no matter how rich they are." Pointed out the alien with a cold tone to the nobles.

"Body mods are a thing." Supplied the young man, considering how they could choose to have different eyes with their money.

"And admit they aren't perfect? They'd have an ice bath first." Came the esquinine's reply, without missing a beat, taking the human by surprise.

The human grinned and couldn't help but smile at the curt and cutting remarks of his closest ally, cheering him up immediately.

[cheynovak]

Spikes

Summary: Y/N, a 16-year-old punk-loving girl, rushes to the Beach City Grill every day after school to see Priestly, the edgy and cool guy with a spiky mohawk and piercings, whom she's secretly in love with.

Warning: None, Priestly is just a nice guy to a love sick teenage puppy.

English isn't my first language

Please do not copy my work. Likes/Share/Comments are appreciated.

Y/N hated her school uniform. Every morning felt like a betrayal, pulling on the pleated skirt and stiff blazer that made her feel like a cookie-cutter version of everyone else. She missed her ripped jeans, band tees, and spiked accessories that were as much a part of her as her love for punk and metal.

As soon as the final bell rang each day, she was free—well, not totally. The uniform stayed on, but it didn’t matter. Y/N would ditch the blazer, roll up her sleeves, and sprint across town to the Beach City Grill. It wasn’t just for the sandwiches.

It was Priestly

Priestly was a walking work of art. His hair, styled into a spiky mohawk with streaks of bright red and electric blue, stood out as sharp as his personality. His face was pierced—nose ring, lip ring, and a few studs along his ears. He had these intense green eyes that seemed to look right through people, but his easy smile softened the edge. His sideburns connected to a perfectly sculpted goatee, and he always rocked some version of graphic shirt like he wore today.

Priestly wasn’t just some regular hot guy. He was cool unapologetically himself, and completely untouchable. Older, maybe by a few years, but Y/N didn’t care. She had it bad.

Every day, she’d walk in, heart racing, pretending like she wasn’t already imagining what his voice would sound like saying her name. She’d order the same thing—a soda or a milkshake if she was feeling daring—and linger by the counter, just long enough to catch his eye.

Today was no different. As she pushed through the door, the bell above jingling, she spotted Priestly leaning against the counter, fiddling with one of his bracelets. Her stomach did a weird flip-flop.

“Hey, Priestly,” she greeted, trying to sound casual.

“Y/N!” He gave her a grin that made her insides feel like melted vinyl. “Right on time, as always.”

She leaned against the counter, pretending to look at the menu even though she had it memorized. “Yeah, uh, can’t stay away from this place.”

She wasn’t sure if she meant the grill or him, but Priestly didn’t need to know that. Not yet.

She look at his wrist noticing the new jewellery. “that bracelet’s awesome."

Priestly glanced down and chuckled. “Yeah, thanks. I’ve had this one forever."

Y/N felt her pulse quicken. “I love it. Way cooler than this stupid uniform I’m stuck in every day.” She glanced down at the school-issued shirt in disgust. Then, without thinking, she reached up to finger her necklace—a black choker covered in metal spikes, one of the few remnants of her true style that hadn’t been completely stripped away by the school’s dress code.

Priestly’s eyes followed the movement, and his lips quirked into an appreciative smile. “Your necklace is badass, though. Spikes are killer.”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. He liked it! Without thinking, she tugged the choker off and handed it to him. “You can have it,” she said quickly. “The principal’s been threatening to confiscate it if I wear it one more time. Might as well give it to someone who’ll appreciate it.”

Priestly blinked, taken aback, then grinned as he took the necklace from her. “Thanks, Y/N. Seriously. This is rad.” He looked at her like she was more than just the kid who showed up every day at his counter. “Here, let’s swap.”

Before she could protest, he unclasped his leather band and held it out. “I don’t think they can say anything about this at school, right?”

Her heart hammered in her chest as she reached out to take the bracelet. “I—uh—thanks.” She slid it onto her wrist, feeling the worn leather warm against her skin. It was a perfect fit. She was sure her face was burning, but she didn’t care. She had something of his now. Something real.

The silence between them stretched for a moment, comfortable but thick with something unsaid. Then Priestly tilted his head, his eyes studying her face more closely than they ever had before. “Y’know, Y/N, you come in here every day after school. Don’t you have, like, a club or friends to hang out with?”

Y/N swallowed hard, her face flushing even redder. “Uh, I just like the food here. And, um, you guys are just awesome to hang out with.”

Priestly raised an eyebrow, clearly amused but not in a mean way. “Just the food, huh?” He leaned forward on the counter, closer than usual, his voice gentle but knowing. “You’re a sweet girl, Y/N. But... I’ve gotta ask—why do you really come in every day?”

Her throat tightened. Oh, God. He knew. She fumbled for words, her heart pounding, but nothing coherent came out. All she managed was, “I, um... you... I'm s-sorry.”

Priestly smiled, and it wasn’t teasing. It was soft, almost apologetic. “Hey, it’s cool. I think you’re awesome, really. But... you’re still kinda young, y’know?”

Y/N’s face burned with embarrassment, but she nodded quickly, unable to meet his eyes. She knew. Of course, she knew. She was sixteen, still stuck in high school, and Priestly was already in his late twenties. There was no way he’d ever see her like that.

Still, her heart sank as Priestly gently patted her hand. “Maybe in a few years, yeah?” he said with a wink, trying to lighten the mood. “Who knows?”

Y/N couldn’t help the tiny smile that crept across her face. “Yeah... maybe.”

With the leather band secure on her wrist, she knew she’d remember this moment forever. At least Priestly didn't saw her as a freak like all those highschool boys.

--

Taglist -> Click here to add

@kr804573 @nancymcl @suckitands33 @mostlymarvelgirl @globetrotter28 @jackles010378 @hobby27 @winchesterwild78 @deans-baby-momma @soab1967 @livingdeadblondequeen @ladysparkles78 @whimsyfinny @kamisobsessed @jays-bonnie-on-the-side @ferrersbiggestfan @spxideyver @kamisobsessed @deans-queen @yvonneeeee @livya99 @mrsjenniferwinchester @deansimpalababy @yvonneeeee @stoneyggirl2

[kalpeavaris]

MD: Echo Info Post #1 (Character Edition)

So I reblogged this image about wanting to (over) share about OCs... and then I got a mysterious message telling me to speak about my OCs... 👀(*cough* @inkyprince I said I'd tag you hehe *cough*)

So I've decided to just do it, lmao. I love sharing stuff about my OCs, stories and whatnot and this is my blog, imma do what I want!

Gotta lay out some trivia & information about my Murder Drones AU, Echo! Wether it be characters or concepts, because maybe it'll get some people interested :D All of the info is below the cut, and for the first iteration of this I've chosen Kira, aka "ZWEI", for this!

Kira - "ZWEI" - White Witch

A lot of her information can also be viewed on her ToyHouse Profile (logged in user only, sorry!)

Playlist - Pinterest - Voice Claim - Theme Song

Content Warnings: Mentions of self-harm, suicidal thoughts (non-explicit), chronic (terminal) illness (in... robot-terms?)

(older art, but it does the trick lmao)

Kira was one of the Drones that were tested and infected with the Absolute Solver code back in the 3040s and 50s in the Cabin Fever Lab Cathedral with her number being 24.

As a Communication Drone the Solver's abilities affected her in a different way than her fellow Worker Drones, causing the humans to become aware of certain powers that she exhibited which weren't displayed in other Drones.

Her "exorcism" (or, well, patch) was botched as Kira's OS wasn't capable of adapting to the patch version, causing it to corrupt and allow for a vunerability that lead to Echo (a mutated version of the AS) planting it's own code inside of Kira's, which jump-started Echo's influence on Communication Drones.

Kira's Solver is always active - that's why her eye doesn't return to normal and only ever displays the emblem. She overheats extremely easily all the time and is prone to physical pain and tinnitus due to her being unable to block out inbound signals if she picks them up.

This has her health deteriorating quickly over the course of the MD: Echo story, slowly succumbing from it, though she keeps on pushing forward to stop ECHO and it's hosts. She needs actual medication to keep the pain at bay and constantly consumes Oil at a high rate to stop overheating. If her Solver was to deactivate she'd most likely pass away within a few days.

Her secondary name, "ZWEI" means "Two" (or could also be interpreted as "the second") in German. It is a reference to her part in the story, as well as her connection to ECHO. (won't be spoilered for now 8D) She associates alot of trauma with it and doesn't like being referred by it.

Personality wise Kira seems fairly withdrawn from everyone around her except her friends and partner/family. If she's in a good headspace she's fairly open and confident, almost fierce in the way she appears to others. Kira's keen on keeping up a strong facade to not show strangers her weaknesses or true condition.

"But what are Communication Drones?"

I'm glad you asked! Communication Drones look like normal Workers, though the one thing that sets them apart are the two antennas on their head which can vary in size & style depending on their desired function (short-range, long-range, ground signals, air signals etc.)

These antennas function as ears for them, so if they're removed, their hearing is damaged (not entirely deaf, but definitely worsened). So if a "normal" CD loses their antennas they're having a harder time adapting as their intake of sound is greatly reduced.

As an AS user/host, Kira's able to pick up on stronger signals from far away or even sending out signals to stun/manipulate others around her in a short radius. This effect doesn't stay though, it'll wear off over time and actively consume energy from the Drone using it.

Disassembly Drones can also have the subtype of a Communication Drone as shown in the sketch below (left DD) - their antennas are usually shorter and made for short-range and aerial signals as they're capable of flight, too.

(I almost made them a polycule not going to lie they all hot as fuck) wish that was me-)

--

(Kira on her way to cast 'gun, prepare to meet god' in the face of a fucking angel-robot-AI that believes to be god itself)

Kira plays a big part in the MD: Echo universe next to some minor characters & canon characters. Her main motivation is to help stop Echo, as it also tries to infect her via the unstable Solver code in her OS.

--

Crucifix Symbolism

(the power of christ compels you!)

Something very important to Kira is her botched patch / "exorcism". She's obsessed with crucifix looking symbolism which continues to haunt her almost 30 years later during MD: Echo's timeline.

She's desperate to break free from this, but cannot help herself. She compulsively collects cross-shaped imagery and in the first few months after her escape from the Lab she actively built crosses from all sorts of materials.

It's mainly coming from her OS being overwhelmed by the botched patch and the crucifix imagery of the USB burning itself in her memory files as some sort of "salvation" she has yet to achieve. Luckily, this started to fade out over the years, especially after meeting T who helped her to overcome the trauma of the incident.

--

(CW: Mentions of Self-Harm)

After being infected by the Absolute Solver, Kira desperatly tried more than once to remove her antennas to keep the voices from appearing. It talked to her from the inside, but she didn't realize this yet. Like almost all other AS Users however she kept on regenerating, unable to escape the inner turmoil of the Solver's possession and Echo trying to get inside of her OS as well.

--

Effects of the AS on her psyche

(holy shit have you ever seen a centipede that big? what is this? australia?)

Haunted by visions of the Solver, it's communications with the other Drones and later on the landing pods of the Disassembly Drones Kira had a hard time to tune out these visions she got from time to time. Similar to Nori in that regard Kira wrote everything down she heard through these intercepted signals, amassing hundreds of pages of logs she was able to get.

--

Meeting her partner

("Girl I swear I have normal hands too don't be distracted by my sexy claws")

In the 3060s, she stumbled upon one of the Disassembly Drone squads outside of the colony's Outpost she was seeking shelter in. She had intercepted their landing pods signals and was "curious" to seek out whoever had arrived, trying to solve the mystery of whatever the Solver had her experience.

That's when she found Serial Designation T - the navigator of the squad, who at first attempted to kill her like he'd been tasked to do. After all, Kira was a Solver Host that couldn't be fully mind-controlled anymore. But in the middle of him attacking her T's code was halted by Cyn herself, deactivating his executive task to kill the Host he had infront of him. He himself didn't know why exactly the Solver did this, but in hindsight it was due to the fact that Kira was still able to be of use to it later on.

(POV: you deleted system32 from your PC because some random kid on roblox told you to)

Now neutral, T got curious about Kira whom he tried to speak to with her Kira (driven by curiosity on why he had stopped being aggressive all of a sudden, being able to intercept the communication he had with Cyn) staying to talk to him.

Over the following weeks the two grew acustomed with each other, slowly building a friendship that later on evolved into a more romantic nature. Kira hid him in the Outpost and brought in food for the two of them as she constantly needed oil as well.

[illarian-rambling]

Thanks for the tags @corinneglass and @diabolical-blue!

OC Interview

You know, I don't think I've ever done one of these for Ivander. Let's go with him!

Are you named after anyone?

"Not in particular, no. My family tends to cycle through the same old list of names, so there have been plenty of Ivanders before me, but I wasn't named after any specifically."

When was the last time you cried?

"Most nights, I can't help it. My curse puts me in a great deal of pain and when my medication wears off around midnight, I'm usually not doing great. It's nights like those that make me so awfully aware that my time is drawing to an end."

Do you have kids?

"Hell no, I'd probably forget to feed the tragic creature. I'm not putting any child through the trial that me raising them would undoubtedly ensue."

Do you use sarcasm a lot?

"If you have to ask, then you must be denser than you look."

What is the first thing you notice about people?

"As a detective, I'm trained to look for identifying marks. An odd tattoo, a birthmark, telltale scars from a certain trade. All can be very useful if one can remember them."

What’s your eye color?

"Blue. Most would describe them as slightly too blue to fall in the human range."

Any special talents?

"I'm good at remembering things. Who's been talking with whom, who's been clocking in late with bags under their eyes, who's been extra nervous when the time comes for a station audit - that sort of thing. Ceyrel, my partner, says I have a nose for drama, but I prefer to think that I simply like to keep tabs on my surroundings. And occasionally let other people in on my 'findings,' so to speak."

Scary movies or happy endings?

"I really couldn't say. I suppose it depends on what I'm in the mood for. If I'm with friends, scary movies are fine, but if I'm alone in my apartment, I prefer something sappy. Just don't tell Ceyrel that."

Where were you born?

"On a roof, believe it or not. I was told that my mother insisted. According to my uncle, she said it was an important tradition among her people that a baby's first sight be the sky above. In a rare show of magnanimity, my father allowed her to go through with her plan and brought up a midwife and tent to the roof of the Montane compound. And so there it happened. Apparently, it rained hard enough that no one could see the sky in the end anyways."

Do you have any pets?

"No. I can barely take care of myself - I'm not going to tie some animal to my fate. Especially not one that wants me petting it all the time."

How tall are you?

"5'8", but I walk with a stoop, so I seem shorter."

What was your favorite subject in school?

"I was never a fan of school. I did well enough and my tutors never remarked on my behavior, however, I didn't enjoy it. I suppose art, if I had to choose. I liked to paint as a boy, though I was never very good. I thought I might pick the hobby up again once I left home, but I never found the time."

What is your dream job?

"I'd say not having a job would be dreamy, but that's not true, I'd go mad with boredom. I like being a detective well enough. I have the seniority to where they don't make me go on patrol anymore, and sometimes I'll get a case that piques my interest. Really though, it's just a job. I do it, I get paid, I go home. When I joined ten years ago, I had some delusion of making the world a better place and atoning for my sins. However, the only place I ended up making better was the interior of some merchant councilmembers' homes. It's been so long that it's hard to care about such things now - that's how society works and there's no use fighting against it. But back on topic. If I really had to choose, I'd... I'd perhaps like to work in a tailor shop. I have a keen eye for style and I think the clientele would amuse me. Unfortunately though, I couldn't string a needle to save my life, and tailors don't make detective money. More's the pity."

I'll tag @somethingclevermahogony @goodluckclove @savvyminnow @sleepywriter00 and anyone else who wants to play :)

Blank questions below the cut

Are you named after anyone? When was the last time you cried? Do you have kids? Do you use sarcasm a lot? What is the first thing you notice about people? What’s your eye color? Any special talents? Scary movies or happy endings? Where were you born? Do you have any pets? How tall are you? What was your favorite subject in school? What is your dream job?

[moonslie04]

Na Jaemin x male reader

Jaemin sighed, bored out of his mind as the teacher droned on and on about something he could care less about. He glanced back, his eyes locking on the black haired boy that sat near the window, real anime protagonist style.

He saw the boy pout in concentration, tongue poking out of his lips as he ran his pencil over on the notebook on his desk. Jaemin assumed he was sketching, knowing the shorter boy.

He was snapped out of his trance when the bell rang, indicating the end of his torture (psychology lecture) and quickly got up. Since the class was the last one, it meant Jaemin could go back to his safe haven, his dorm room.

Sneaking one last glance at the raven haired boy who still hadn't looked up from his art, he made his way towards his dorm.

Jaemin sighed again, scrolling on his phone as he awaited the return of his roommate so he could fall asleep without having to worry about opening the door. The jiggling of the doorknob made him get up and open the door, revealing a raven haired boy.

Jaemin chuckled at the boy's tired expression as he tugged at the sketchbook in his hand.

The boy whined, shaking his head. “Jae, let me in first. Please, my feet hurt.”

Jaemin shook his head, yet moved to the side and let the shorter boy in. He made a grab for the sketchbook immediately as soon as it landed on the other's bed. He flipped through the pages, rough sketches of hands, faces, eyes met him as he did so. He grinned widely, teeth fully on display as he reached the most recent drawing, the one he knew would be him.

He was always astonished when the ravenette showed him his drawings. No matter how many times before he had seen them, it always amazed him. Jaemin had voiced his thoughts about how the other should go to art school instead of this boring college, but he knew what the answer would be.

‘My parents would never allow it, Nana. You know that.’

Yeah. Jaemin hated the other's parents. They were supportive when the raven haired wanted to transition but were still too strict when it came to his education and career.

Jaemin looked at the drawing version of himself, his pencil sketched eyes seeming to sparkle, his smile true and honest.

People often said that if a drawing is made of someone by someone they love, it would turn out differently. More intimate. He knew what the ravenette felt for him. The love that wasn't platonic but more romantic that he felt, too.

They both knew it. They even had a talk about it. Jaemin knew that the boy who was now snoring softly in his bed because of exhaustion wanted to be his boyfriend just as much as Jaemin wanted to be his. But Jaemin also knew that the boy needed time. He had gotten out of a harsh relationship, and Jaemin had been there for him.

Jaemin knew how strong the other was and he was proud of him. So he would give him as much time as he needed, because he loved him.

[TWO MONTHS LATER]

Jaemin sighed, bored out of his mind as the teacher droned on and on about something he could care less about. He glanced at his roommate boyfriend as he held his hand. A smile came onto Jaemin's face, just as sparkling as the one in the drawing.

♡♡♡———————♡♡♡———————♡♡♡———

A/N: honestly, I wrote this like at 2 am. cause I was feeling like shit but enjoy ^-^

[ninjagirlstar5]

Kiyoka 🤝 SDRA2!Teruya

Having a cowboy aesthetic

Yeah, for Kiyoka, I decided to push the cowboy vibes with her cause I think it's neat that she has a cowboy hat but is never seen with it in her sprite work so I went, "Haha, cowboy go brrr." Considering Kiyoka is a natural professional at any sort of range weapon without even trying, I think this aesthetic suits her a bit more than anything related to the military cause 1.) there's no indication she's related to the military, unlike Haru who's interests include the military and 2.) she never asked for her talent, it just fuckin' happened. It makes me wonder how she even became the Ultimate Sniper. Did she just enter competitions on a whim, decimated her opponents, and Hope's Peak just went, "Yep, that one. That one right there." Either way, since Kiyoka has a cowboy hat, I decided to go with that aesthetic since it feels more casual and cause she'd probably find it cool! So I gave her sprite her cowboy hat with a bit of more details, and changed her shoes to boots. Kiyoka is interesting cause she's clearly pretty feminine in how she talks about makeup and fashion magazines, while she's wearing pants, sneakers, and has a sweater tied around her waist in her OG sprite. Which makes me think that she leans more towards feminine but prefers pants and such. So I kept that vibe for her as I changed her design, keeping her pants but shortening the length to her knees. The top part of her design was changed the most as the shirt had been tied into a knot and I shortened her sleeves. But of course, I added a black tank top with stripes to reference her outfit in her concept art underneath her tied shirt as I didn't want to show off too much skin since, again, she's a teenager. But I do feel like Kiyoka would be the type of person to like showing off a bit of skin and have the confidence to do it. I also think she'd go out and get herself a tan hence why her skin is darker here than her canon sprite, and I gave her makeup. I kept her hair length, but change it's style into a ponytail and have it a drill-style like her bang(s). Since in the IF illustration Kiyoka cut her hair and lacks her drills, she probably styles her hair this way on purpose. Probably because she saw the style and liked it. (Even if this is true, I think it's a shame that she doesn't have them anymore as I think it helps her stand out a bit more.) I actually wasn't sure how to do her ponytail at first cause making it clear that there's a ponytail in a front-facing sprite like this can be kinda hard and I didn't want to make it a top ponytail cause that styles gives a more professional vibe that Kiyoka just does not have (unlike Akane who takes her job seriously), and a low ponytail can get lost in the design because it's hidden by most of the body (just like Sora's regular sprite or even my redesign of S.O.R.A. for my Protag Teruya AU). But after looking through some references on Google, I was struck with inspiration when I saw the ponytail-over-the-shoulder style and knew what I wanted to do. It allowed me to show off her drill-style hair more while keeping it loose cause that's who Kiyoka is: a casual girl that wants to be normal and have fun. I gave her scrunchies, and with that said and done, I changed her necklace cause having a gear necklace didn't? Make much sense?? For her character? Like, there's no significance and it's kinda just there. So I made it into a regular bead necklace instead since I felt like that was more up her alley. I also changed her jacket into a button-up with a plaid pattern and gave her black tights underneath her pants and boots to match her tank top. And that's it!

Now, that's fifteen people done! All that's left is...is...oh no.

[firedragon1321]

How to Spot an AI-Generated Tai in the Wild!

Because I am insanely obsessed with the blorbo and AI art is a hot-button topic right now, here's a silly thing. I'm sure most artists can tell the difference between real and AI art. But my autistic brain wants to pick apart Tai's character design a bit so here you go. This applies to all seasons, touching on basic traits Tai has between them. So I won't go too much into clothing here (people like to dress him up in different cool outfits anyway- keep doing that).

Note that this isn't true to all models, but works 90% of the time. AI art is advancing so quickly that this may be obsolete by tomorrow. Also, real art might "fail" these little tests simply due to lack of experience drawing the character. If you suspect someone is posting AI art, just block and move on. Report if you want, but you know how Tumblr feels about AI. Most importantly? Don't use this post to be a dick.

WARNING: This post uses AI-generative images found from around the Internet for demonstrative purposes. No credit is given because if the "creators" wanted credit, they should've learned how to actually draw. :)

SKIN TONE

Tai has this nice, tanned skin tone that the rest of the Adventure DigiDestined do not have. While he keeps it in 02 and tri, he loses his color in Kizuna. A real fanart piece is most likely to reflect this, or even add color to his paler designs.

Most AI models have a generic pasty white skin tone for anime characters. This applies to any anime character, not just Tai. I believe this model might have gobbled up his Kizuna skin tone. But I've seen fake Tais even paler than this.

There are some AI models that combat this. But the standard AI identification tricks apply. Here, the tongue is mushy, and the highlights on his goggles make no sense.

HAIR OF FLOOF FLOOF

Ah yes- my point of expertise. Tai's hair is a difficult thing to draw. I don't blame anyone for dropping the ball here. But AI does have some notable, repetitive failings.

A "legit" Tai tends to have fluff, rather than spikes. The bangs consist of one stripe over the forehead. The few spikes present designate messiness, but the general shape is actually curvy (look at the top right side of the head for the most wavy lines). The size of the floof ranges between adaptions and even storyboard artists.

AI-generators are convinced that all "anime hair" is spiky. Notice this AI Tai has more spikes and less curved lines.

Then, there's this one, which drops the ball on Tai and Matt so bad that both characters resemble Bakugou from My Hero Academia.

WHO'S THAT DIGIDESTINED?

Eye shape and color has some leeway depending on the artist's style. Adventure/02, tri., and Kizuna supply three different eye styles. However, there are still some dead giveaways.

Revisiting this AI-generated image, the eyes look...familiar. No?

How about now? The modern Pokemon anime style has been completely absorbed by AI models. Sometimes, Digimon and Pokemon will be confused for each other, resulting in similar eye shapes and other traits (look at the noses, too).

HUMAN TOUCH

There's some times you can look at an art and know with confidence it was human-made, such as-

MS Paint blobs/sketches on lined paper/anything showing layers/etc. They're too unrefined for an AI image creator to want to profit off of, so why would they make them?

Some fetish art. A lot of kinksters are using AI, which is why deviantArt made good ammunition for this post. But many have distinct art styles that AI has not copied yet.

Western-cartoony art with hard or thick lines. AI is allergic to these traits atm. Notice the softer, thinner outlines on all three fakes.

Clearly attempting to master Tai's unique traits, even if they don't translate well (e.g.- a dome vaguely shaped like his hair is more credible than a "perfect" hairdo with too many spikes).

FINAL NOTES

All of this could change tomorrow, at the rate at which AI advances. I'm fairly good at deducing AI art from human-made art. But a recent piece almost tricked me (interestingly, it was Davis- not Tai- who looked off). These things are constantly evolving. But in addition to the usual tricks, knowing your blorbos can help identify AI images so you can freely block (or, when applicable, report) the idiots who made them.

[starrysharks]

ive sent like 20 asks to you atp but i really love ur art soooo so so so much like ur like my biggest inspiration fr like seriously i could blab all day abt how much i love your art and your arts almost singlehandedly motivated me to start working on shape language more bc i think thats like the key part of your art (to me at least) and youre like the true embodiment of "same face syndrome fears me" but like fr because all your ocs are so distinct and unique

do you have any tips on creating unique silhouettes / just general character design tips?? also id love to hear abt how your use of shapes and shape language evolved over time if ur fine sharing that!!

ok this is literally the sweetest ask ever like first off thank you so much ;_; i'm glad i was able 2 inspire you!!!

for me if you look at my old art there's little to no focus on shape language cuz i wanted to express a 'pointy' animeish style. examples are from 2020, 2021 respectively

as you can see i did NOT flip my canvas and my art was samey as hell,,, but in 2021 i started going for softer colors and shapes rather than points and spikes and brighter shapes. but, if you were to look through all of my art from either era, you'd see it's identical cuz i didn't care for shape language. this went on for quite a while :,)

then i discovered worlds end club in late 2021 and everything changed !!! i watched playthroughs cuz i didn't have a means to play at the time, and decided on making my artstyle a blend of cartoony and animeish - which ended up in choosing more expensive silhouettes and faces in turn

honestly i'm too tired to actually chronicle my artstyle change so i'll just skip to late 2022 in this timeline, sorry 😭

so by now has my artstyle evolved into aomwthing super cool n expressive ? no actually i think my art got worse in late 2022

as you can see, my colors got super washed out and i didn't really take risks, i guess? but i was finally starting to come into my own in terms of artstyle and was finally acknowledging shape language a little bit.

very early 2023 is the same, so let's skip to the one thing that changed my artstyle - the big 8 lineups

suddenly everybody was like 'wow your shapes are so good!!!' this was because i had tried to challenge myself with character design in these drawings. so i tried to emphasise interesting shapes more - using a technique where i'd just take an interesting shape or line that corresponded with a character's personality and repeating it as much as i could across the design.

like this deep cut art, where i tried to 'dial up'their already exaggerated shapes and design aspects (such as making frye's pants sag more or changing up shiv's hair. big man is perfect and needs no changes)

but this journey is still not over because a few months ago i rewatched all of panty and stocking and watched clone high for the first time, and both of these shows emphasise shapes a LOT in their designs, and i picked those up. here's art from a few months ago - in short, i tried to find the 'focal point' of the design, something that set it apart from other designs with similar body types or clothing, and built around that, if it makes sense? here's some art that i think expresses that well

comparing the new quintet art to the old one, i think you can also see that i started to try and use different body shapes and shapes in general (such as clyde having a more triangular build ig) . and tumblr doesn't let me add more pictures so this is where the overview ends !

my advice is - watch and rewatch anything that might inspire you, because it has the ability to push you in the right direction. for technical tips, id say -

draw different body types and age ranges (often times same face syndrome is born from only drawing the same age range, usually 15-20 for most sufferers)

play around with style - do you want a more western inspired style or something more akin to modern anime ? maybe something entirely different! try drawing in different styles that you like and see which ones stick

research fashion if only a little bit - it can help understand visually pleasing silhouettes (such as the famous big jacket or big pants silhouettes)

speaking of big jacket or big pants, contrast is key !!! top or bottom heavy designs are an easy way to express personality and an expressive silhouette ig

ummm thaz it ithink. once again thank you for your kind words and remember to take advice from multiple artists im just one guy!! i hope anything in here helped or was at least interesting to read

[stopiteatpopcorn]

Ello! Hello, Hellooo little bug~ We were talking about this earlier, but I think Ler Ranpo would look amazing in your writing style! It's a small request but take all the time you need to write it. I won't rush you! Take your time and have fun with it.

A Birthday Filled With Laughter

—————————————————————————————————

Fandom: Bungo Stray Dogs

Characters: Ler!Ranpo x Lee!Reader

⚠️THIS IS A TICKLE FIC SO IF YOU DON’T WANNA SEE THAT, YOU HAVE BEEN RANDO WARNED⚠️

————————————————————————————————

It was a bright and sunny day out, but you had decided to stay in despite it being a special day. You were chilling on the couch when all of a sudden came a knock at the door. Wondering who it could possibly be, since you didn’t remember inviting anyone over for any plans, you waited it out. Another knock. And another. You eventually got up, hesitantly opening the door. It was Ranpo!

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the birthday person themselves~ about time you let me in! Jeez, do you know how long you made me wait out here?” The detective whined.

“Well sorry, I didn’t think anyone would come over- I mean- it isn’t that big of a deal-“ he simply put a finger up to your lips, raising his eyebrow at you.

“Nuh uh uh- Shut it. None of that, I didn’t come here for nothing! Especially after I brought you all these snacks!”

“Well you didn’t have to go out of your way to do that!”

“You’re right, but they were on sale and I convinced Poe to gimme some extra money, so take ‘em!” He shoves a basket full of snacks, ranging from your favorite chips to your favorite candies, into your hands. Then before you could even decline, he waltzed through the door and slumped himself onto the couch. “So, what’re you watching? Something boring?” He asked. You merely shrugged, going to sit beside him.

“I dunno…Some random show. But don’t you think it’s a little boring just sitting and doing nothing? I mean you don’t have to stay!”

“Well, I did have a little idea..~” He smirked, looking at you as he pushed his glasses up slightly. He had a mischievous glint in his eyes that made you flinch and quickly try to get up, however you were too slow as he dragged you back down to the couch, wrapping his arms around you. “Nawww what’s the matter~? This is just my other gift to you~!”

“Ranpo- don’t you dare! I swear I wihihill- hehehey-!” You interrupted yourself with giggles as you felt two nimble hands slowly tracing up and down your sides.

“You’ll what~? You’ll laugh~? Well I sure hope you would, that’s the point!” He grinned at you, continuing to lightly tickle you. His hands trailed up to your ribs, gently squeezing and making you squeal! “Nawww~ This is adorable~!”

“Rahahanpo! Nahahaha-!” You giggled even harder when his fingers traced up to your neck, and then trailed down your back.

“Seems like someone isn’t bored now huh~?” He observed, smirking at you. You went to protest, but all that came out were more giggles. “That’s it, keep giggling! I know you’re enjoying this~!” He called out, making you blush in embarrassment.

“Shuhuhut uhahap!” You squealed, hiding your face in your hands.

“Hmm…No~ You know it’s true, so I’ll keep going until you ask me to really stop, okay?” You nodded in response, as you spent the rest of your birthday giggling up a storm!

———————————————————————————

A/N: OMG HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY DEAREST VANITY!! CANT BELIEVE ITS YOUR BIRTHDAY RAAAAA! I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS FIC AND THE ART, I POWERED THROUGH MY WRITERS BLOCK AND ART BLOCK FOR THIS!! ANYWAYS ONCE AGAIN HAPPY BIRTHDAYYY!

[midgetmoth]

how old is yellow and chosen in ur AU?

Across the ones I have?

Starlight “Yellow Feather” is canonically 23 in creature years while “The Chosen Star” is over 100, their age is never revealed or specified for obvious lore reasons.

Fates New has Chosen and Dark at a nice 22~25, the age ranges with what year I present them in. Before becoming a cop, after, and later on down their career (where Showdown should have happened but never did) so they’re just 25. Yellow (and the rest of color gang) are 18~20. Green and Blue are 20, Red is 19, Yellow is 18. Orange/Second is 17 but turns 18 around showdown’s time.

Basically all their ages range from the moment I show them, in a sense. Since my art I draw of them are of comics or small doodles. All legal, but I don’t like drawing them in ships.

Not like theirs something wrong with it! I just don’t want to disrespect Alan’s characters, y’know? It’s why when I do AUs, I make them very specific to a theme and style that’s close enough, but its entirely different thing. The only thing I think I can confidently get away with is Darkcho, because they were shown as true besties throughout the videos starring them. Color gang acts a little too “family” or “bestie group” to really be a shipping thing. Not unless its poly gang I guess, who knows.

\o sorry for rambling, passionate about my lil worlds

[fayes-fics]

Our Cottage [Drabble: Benophie Remix]

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x Sophie Beckett

Summary: Benedict shows his new wife their home.

Warnings: none… pure fluff

Prompt: Day 2 Word - Cottage

Authors Note: I’m remixing a couple of my drabbles that feel most appropriate for @benophieweek 2023. There are some minor edits to make the story more “Sophie coded”. This is an AU where Sophie only sees My Cottage after they are married. Enjoy!

Her hand feels so delicate in his as he leads her into each room, her face a picture of wonderment that makes his chest ache. Sophie looks so utterly entranced by every nook and cranny, causing Benedict to glow with contentment—witnessing the happiness radiating out of her with every new door he opens.

This will be home. Together. A place to build memories, love, and, if his wishes come true, raise a family. Their family.

The sunny parlour, the warm dining room, the cosy library, even the glass conservatory he has co-opted as his art studio make her beam with excitement. He can only watch, his eyes soft, as she admires Mrs Crabtree’s kitchen: the shiny copper pots that hang above the range, the elegant platters that line the shelves. She lingers so long he has to gently remind her it won’t be her job to be in the kitchen anymore and her demure smile of recognition makes his heart swell.

But it's her expression when he sweeps open the door to the master bedroom that is his most treasured. The way she clasps her hands together in front of her chest, fluttering around the room like a contented bird: looking out the window across the neatly kept gardens to the fields beyond, lingering at the green tiled fireplace, pulling up to the four-poster bed and running her hand over the brocade bedspread, shooting Benedict a heated look with a bite of her lip that makes him want to sweep her off her feet and ravish her yet again.

Once they have toured every room, he leads Sophie outside onto the terrace, and they take a seat together on a bench, her tucking under his arm in a way that feels so much like serenity all his troubles seem to melt away. And when the sun cuts through the dabbled trees and catches her face as she twists to look up at him, eyes sparkling, he is at a complete loss for words. Her beauty, the inner one that radiates from within, makes him dumbstruck.

Only one thing feels out of place—My Cottage no longer feels an apt name. The urge to get out his paint and amend the sign that adorns the gateway is so strong that his fingers flex against her body where he tenderly holds her.

It’s undoubtedly Our Cottage now.

No taglist as this isn’t my usual fic style

[your-local-uwu-artist]

wip dump :3

evil art style! my art style has quite a lot of range but I decided to default to chibis for this. I also didn't want to like, just draw one character bust up like i see most people do for it, so I wanted to come up with a way to show multiple characters on one page in an appealing manner

sonic drawing practice! I've been procrastinating this one because the lineart I've done so far on it is almost too good. I'm not sure If i can keep up the standard set

jame-joe doodles! really wanna keep developing this concept: I think it has decent potential! i don't remember how much I've shared about him but i don't think i've talked about it much beyond the base premise. Jame-Joe is inspired by characters like Dipper and Wirt, he's clever, is serious and studious in the pursuit of his goals, can be rather emotional and is prone to cowardice and insecurity, but can be determined when push comes to shove. I set myself up for a challenge here, as I want him to be expressive but limited by his doll body. It's a fun challenge though!

more 'i should start an etsy' drawings. i've seen people make like 'gacha blind bag' keychains and thought of the idea of those with aimaina-chan designs!

fdanfsdjk I almost feel bad for spoiling this one because I'm so excited to share it!!!! But i guess the sorta person to read through this post probably don't mind spoilers lol. I realized 'Timmy's a 2000s kid' and decided to go ALL IN on that. I dug deep into my memories and decided this kids going to need rainbow looms, slap-wraps, silly bandz, and those rubbery braclets where theres one white segment and one black segment and i have no clue if this is true but when i was a kid everyone always said the white segment was snow from mount everest and the black one was like sand from the bottom of the ocean. anyway! I had so much trouble wiht finding the right shade of pink that if i go trhough making a youtube video on these designs you guys will definitely here my color theory rant.

my main goal i can only describe as 'arcade carpet'

he thinks he's cool but knows he's lame. I gave him a fnaf shirt also, i dived deep into my brain as asked myself 'what graphic t-shirt from hot-topic would timmy turner wear' and i decided on fnaf because i think it's funny. so far these extra outfits have been going up in the amount of projection I'm doing. It started with spongebob's sweater vests, continued with Dannys stereotypical-transmasc fits, and now I'm lowkey just drawing stuff I've worn (actually danny's fit with the flannel I've def worn before but like, i assigned timmy a sanrio character(i gave him keropi because it's an easy way to incorporate green accents into his design lol)) anyway!!!

i had 'i want it that way' stuck in my head again and turned to queeries he proceded to give me the solution of chipi-chipi-chapa-chapa. this was not a solution obviously but whatever. i decided to use my new problem to animate myself dancing. sure. why not. if I upload this to youtube i think i should title it 'me at the function' of course i don't actually go to any functions so perhaps 'me when i' would be more fitting

Haku with his starter! the shy kid to eccentric adult pipeline

more of baby Haku! weird part-mimikyu child wandering alola before discovering ghost-type communities and being like 'finally! someone that doesn't look at me weird when i mention demonic possesion!'

with the timeline I'm going with Haku's younger than Acerola so she's like a big sister to them :3

He stares at you with his big ol eyes awkwardly lowkey steals your malasada and gives you a flower in return

rf4 art!!! I love rune factory enough that I own a throw pillow with vishnal on it >:3

frey my fucking beloved!!!!!! lest is here too also. btw frey is a demigirl and lest is a demiboy this is true you can trust me

sketch design for one of those cd keychains with alvin and the chipmunks!

I plan to caption this '1k notes and I voice+animate my yumehoshi beam' as a bit, not because i want 1k notes, but because 99% chance it won't get 1k notes, but if it does then it'd be a really funny way to break my shyness with sharing my voice to the internet

smurtsune miku smurf my BELOVED

need more character for this btw!

[tanoraqui]

hey!! i love your blog so much your takes are *chefs kiss*

i saw an Amazing post a few months ago where someone laid out a really cool plan for a silmarillion tv show and i cant find it again. it haunts my every waking moment. i think i saw it on your blog so i figured id ask if you knew it.

Either way, have a great day!

(note: I got this ask several thousand years ago, and am answering it now because I asked my roommates if I should write something serious tonight, or something ridiculous, or read a book; and they said ridiculous.) (note 2: I wrote the above several days ago. I'm posting at 6.5k words) (note 3: I'm going to pretend this is a deliberately timed gift to @thelordofgifs for their latest fic updates, which were bullet points of heartfelt and sober compelling canon divergence. this...is bullet points of [heartfelt? compelling?] lunacy. I hope you might enjoy it.)

Are you thinking of this, the "Supernatural but make it Silmarillion lore, and also women" show of my dreams? (Me, approaching the Tolkien estate with an offer for the rights to the Silmarillion: I swear, I will ONLY show the First Age in limited flashbacks. Everything else will be the characters as they are at least 10,000 years later, maybe even with an active framing device to identify them as modern interpretations of the characters...")

Oh huh, I forgot I thought a bunch more about that "teeechnically-not-AU" and never added it to that post. Regardless of whether it's the show you were thinking of, dear Anon:

one of the protagonists is definitely the reincarnation of Fëanor. Her name is Seraphina, which translates to something like "fiery divine being", bc her mom had a good sense of these things. They don't know this at first

her slightly older twin sister is Martha, named after their grandmother but it does mean the feminine of "master", because I spent at least an hour trying to translate any name Turin ever had into something reasonably modern and this is the best I could do (they also don't know about this reincarnation at first, ofc)

their father was killed by some sort of monster when they were babies so their mother took up monster-hunting ranging, etc. etc.

(the underground community of modern monster-hunters are called Rangers, in reference to the roaming heroes of old)

Seraphina, the Wild One(TM), ran away to go to college, where she double-majored in astrophysics and mechanical engineering and double-minored in linguistics and metallurgical engineering, and wrote an art history thesis. Martha, the Dutiful One(TM), stayed with their mother and kept ranging. They reunite when Martha shows up on Phina's doorstep because "Mom went on a hunting trip and hasn't been home in a few days", etc. etc.

the Bobby-style substitute parent should really, to (kind of) round this out, be a dwarf or hobbit. The full "Team Free Will" should represent all peoples of Arda... But I'm not making up OCs right now (yet)

a unifying legend of the Ranger community is that their unofficial network has been supported and guided for millennia by their cousins, the peredhel, Elrohir and Elladan, who quite simply never Chose and have been wandering the earth, saving people and hunting things, ever since their sister died. They don't NEED to Choose until they die, technically!

This is, in fact, true - or, it was. Until about 25 years ago, when [flips a coin] Elrohir married our heroes' mother, settled down into peaceful domesticity, and a few years later died dramatically to buy [throws a dart at a wheel of names] Laura and their children time to escape the whatever.

Laura knew about his profession and that he was older than he looked, but not his whole deal. She found that out later while vengefully hunting monsters...and never told her daughters.

The plot of Season 1 involves unravelling this mystery, including at some point meeting their elusive uncle Elladan (who has maybe gone a little mad with the sudden death of his twin? That'd be a fun season antagonist/arc/theme...dealing with grief...very topical!)

By the end of s1, all of the above have probably had a nice closure-giving(-ish) confrontation/conversation with Elrohir's ghost - who's been waiting in Mandos for his wife and/or brother despite Mandos's INCREASINGLY strident blandishments to stop acting like a cat in a doorway and choose - and Laura and Elladan are both dead in suitably dramatic circumstances.

...or, Elladan is. Apparently John Winchester didn't die until s2e1! So, what happens is:

- (earlier in the s1 finale episode, Laura, noticed something once or twice which her daughters didn't - saw a curl of smoke, seemed to be examining a McGuffin extra closely...)

- Laura has been mildly injured, and someone needs to guard a McGuffin or maybe a random innocent civilian caught up in this, so she stays behind while Phina and Martha go off to deal with whatever the actual big bad of the season is. Maybe a cult trying to sacrifice half-elves for some reason? Directed, though not personally managed, by whatever killed Elrohir in the first place, which is...I gotta figure an OC balrog? Like, not one of the big ones from canon. We'll just call her (Laura's) Bane henceforth.

- not long later, while Phina and Martha are fistbumping in the remains of the cult's hideout Seraphina maybe have used chemical explosives), or maybe discretely looting Elladan's body for useful weapons laying their uncle to rest, the scene cuts back to Laura

- she's pacing, patrolling. Ready for a fight. She senses something and goes even tenser, drawing her ancient sword. It glows softly blue - but this is no orc. Heavy footsteps, flickering shadows and firelight, maybe the sound of wings. We do not see the enemy, just a middle-aged woman in improvised combat gear with a pistol in one hand and a Gondolin-made sword in the other, and a look of iron determination and defiance. She pulls off the bandage on her arm, revealing that she'd faked her injury so the girls would leave her behind.

- "I knew it was you," she greets her old enemy, unflinching, as a faint reprise rings unnoticed in the Great Music. She moves to attack, met by a whip-crack and a flash of fire, and cut to black.

Season 2 starts where s1 ended, for Martha and Seraphina. They're almost back at their car (the beloved 1967 Chevy Shadowfax). Note: few times in s1, Phina has had strange visions or nightmares, never anything prophetic but once a good clue to defeating the MotW...

She reels with the force and horror of this one. Darkness, utter and choking, pierced eventually by a single desperate torch. A dark and empty hall where there should be life and light. Flickering firelight reveals blood on the floor...

She gasps, "Mom," and demands that Martha drive, drive, fucking drive faster already -

They're too late, of course. Laura is long-since dead.

...so, back to Monster of the Week, with additional focus on tracking down the Bane!

Seraphina's strange dreams and visions get more frequent, more memorable. Sometimes they're peaceful, full of beautiful Light. More often they're dark, or at least, dim - climbing strange, starlit mountains (finding a cousin of aconite which turns out to also be useful for defeating werewolves). Choking grief as her hand brushes the air just above a vibrant tapestry, too afraid to ruin it with touch. Fire in her throat as she shouts world-shaking words in a language she doesn't remember (she repeats them a moment later, fending off a corrupted wind-spirit, and it flinches even before Phina feels a burst of vicious, raging, burning strength.)

Seraphina is curious as hell and keeps pushing herself to learn more, see more. Do more. It's not just visions, eventually - she starts to read minds, here and there. She's always been a fidgeter, happiest with some petty creative task of wire and beads or yarn in her hands, but now she can swear that sometimes her craft supplies sing at times, directly surpassing her ears, and she can make things with quality, with power. A new-knitted scarf is sturdy as a gorget. Glass beads glow. The more Phina does, the more she's frustrated rather than satisfied - she knows she's missing something, and she HATES being ignorant. Being wrong.

Martha, always the responsible one, especially feeling the need to be so now that their mom has died, wishes she would stop. Wishes she wouldn't put herself, put both of them, in danger like this. Martha is literally game to fight an orc with her fists one on one, any day of the week; she's no stranger to a quick temper and impulsive action. But she grew up! Why can't her sister!

(Martha: [venting the above to a stranger in a bar or something. Meanwhile, Seraphina has found an medieval Songbook and is trying to, like, apply principals of Elvencraft to chemical engineering. more arguing ensues.])

Toward the end of the season, there's, idk, several murders at the site of a geothermal drilling experiment in the North Sea, and oh shit, Bane is trying to get something that came out of that drill shaft! Violent interrogation of some evil minions reveals that it's no less precious thing than a Silmaril! Our heroes read about those recently in some ancient tome! (Phina got a headache so bad, and a sense of being aflame, that she passed out.)

In the third-to-last episode of the season, they hunt the Silmaril to the unlucky random research facility to which it's been taken. Mundane authorities and/or scientists are already coveting it as a potential energy source, adding extra mooks...who mostly just die when Laura's Bane arrives. But our girls get to it just slightly faster. The jewel is in a jead-lined box. Phina has been increasingly consumed by single-minded focus on getting this thing; even as the Ban storms in all fire and darkness, she's furiously picking the lock. She flings back the lid; we see a shining gold-white jewel - and the Light consumes the screen.

The second-to-last episode starts with pure Light - then it fades to simple Mingling, as the Noldor hold a funeral for Miriel. They had rites for the fallen in their starlit home of old, when they knew no return. They are having a modified version now, knowing that in her weariness she will, at least, take a very long time; in the hope that it will help those who loved her move through their grief.

- young Fëanor (age 5ish), tears running down his cheeks, whispers to his father that he is sorry, so sorry he killed her. Finwë denies it fiercely, lovingly, and holds him tight. Indis approaches, seeking to offer comfort; Finwë sees her over Fëanor's head and, gratefully, shakes his head. She retreats.

- but in the next memory, it is Fëanor (age 10ish) who watches Finwë and Indis, as they move joyously in unison around their wedding dance floor. Someone says something to him, he responds bitterly.

- (I'm not sure exactly what narrative of Fëanor's life I want to construct here, but assume subsequent memories/short scenes include: dislike of half-siblings (ft. fear of loss/abandonment masked as superiority complex), finding genuine joy and contentment in craft, exploration, and Nerdanel & their children; Melkor & rising tensions with Fingolfin, the Silmarils, the sword Incident, banishment (ft. savage dislike of Valar), Finwë's death (the same memory that struck when Laura died!), the Oath, Alqualondë, the theft and burning of the ships...and Amrod...and shortly thereafter, Fëanor himself, in a rush that only wasn't suicide because he really thought he could bust in and kill a Vala right up until he realized he absolutely could not do that.)

- (very fast final montage of key events post death, only snapshots, maybe styled as tapestry seen from Vairë's Halls? Fingolfin, crowned, raising Maedhros from a bow and embracing him; the glorious hosts and castles of the Noldor, Dagor Bragollach, Fingolfin's death, Doriath & Celegorm, Caranthir, Curufin's deaths, Sirion & Amras's death (both with the Silmaril evading them in the background), Morgoth's defeat by Host of the West with Eärendil shining far overhead, the final attack/theft, Maedhros's death, Maglor flinging the third into the sea and collapsing)

- camera close on Seraphina's face as she opens her eyes. They are shining with Light. She says, "Fuck."

FINAL EPISODE OF S2 STARTS WITH:

- a few second earlier: Martha sees from across the room as Phina opens the box and a joyous Light shines forth, and her sister collapses. The Silmaril falls and rolls.

- Martha doesn't have time to see where it rolls, because she has to fight the monster that killed both her parents. We've seen Laura's Bane in the shape of a woman with cavern-black hair and fiery eyes a few times before, and when it killed Laura and Elrohir, we glimpsed much more. But 2 episodes ago was the first time we saw it in all its terrible, burning darkness. The building is falling apart around it. There were a couple security guards and a scientist here; they're dead within moments.

- like her mother, Martha started out with a gun and a sword. She quickly gives up on the gun - it IS a special magic gun, but she's just better with a sword. She's snarking at the monster as she fights, because this is a gritty urban fantasy show so she's going to die, but by Eru she's going to die with sarcasm on her lips.

- the Bane's whip finally catches her around the wrist. It's not clear if it's the pain of the break or the burn that makes her drop her sword. The Balrog steps over it and grabs her by the throat. Darkness enwraps her, the searing, choking claws and the all-encompassing wings and the swallowing of her vision -

- Light pierces it like a blade. The Balrog falls back, dropping Martha to the floor.

- there stands her sister, Silmaril raised, almost glowing herself with its Light. Her eyes blaze with the particularly fiery Light that was always Fëanor's.

- Power in her voice, in English she says, "I am Seraphina Elrohiel [cool epithet she's picked up as a hunter]"; in the most traditional lisping Quenya she adds, "and I am Fëanáro Finwë-Curufinwë." English again: "I wrought this jewel five ages of the world ago…and to be honest, I don't really know what I can do with it now."

- - (the soundtrack crescendos, the Music crescendos; unseen, all around Arda and beyond, beings tuned into the Great Song of Ëa know that Fëanor once again holds a Silmaril, and go oh, shit, fuck!!)

- she smiles, fey and burning. "Do you think it's a good idea to stay and find out?"

- Laura's Bane flees with a snarl.

- Martha gets to her knees, and no further. She's panting, still catching her breath, bleeding and bruised and burned, and staring up at her incandescent sister(?).

- Seraphina (who is, has always been, Fëanáro Curufinwë) stays standing and glaring for a moment more, making sure the enemy has truly gone. Then -

- - [note: it came up, in their hasty recent recent research into the Silmarils while chasing them, that they are blessed such that evil hands can't touch them. they'd hoped this would be protection against the Bane, if they got there too late to stop it]

- - [note: in the very very brief memory-views of Maedhros and Maglor's last moments, it was clear that their grips on the Silmarils were agony]

- Phina falls to her knees, Silmaril dropping from her hand without protest. Once again it rolls offscreen, glow faded but still bright. All force of presence gone, she cradles her burned hand and sobs in agony and irreparable loss, not to mention the sheer overwhelming experience of everything.

- older sister instincts (again: despite the fact that they're twins) gets Martha moving when nothing else did. Still not actually sure what just happened, she crawls forward and hugs her sister.

...then they get out of there. Martha picks the Silmaril up carefully with a piece of cloth and puts it back in the lead-lined box, and Phina carries the box. For the rest of the episode, they hunt down Laura's Bane before it can escape them utterly - unless it tries to come back and get the Silmaril while they're still off-balance, which is entirely possible! Either way, they kill it so dead!

Season ends with the two of them sitting in a dingy motel room, or maybe back in the Shadowfax [car], staring at the Silmaril box. Martha says, "So...what do we do with this?" Phina says, "We find out what the hell happened to the other two!"

IN SEASON THREE...

...I stop having particularly coherent ideas for what happens, is what happens in season three

honestly, I was originally conceiving of this as 5 seasons a la Supernatural didn't it have a great show finale in 2010? so great. thank goodness they didn't make 10 more seasons for some canonically godforsaken reason. But Fëanor retrieving even just one Silmaril would so kick off an s4 level of divine intervention and incipient apocalypse...

I dunno, or maybe they CAN have a full season of Monster of the Week plus arcing plot which is half standard hunting, half various supernatural entities tracking them down either to steal the Silmaril or to kill Fëanor (again) for her many crimes?

They retrieve 1 Silmaril that season, while evading, idk, I guess Sauron is our Lilith equivalent... And it WOULD be fun to have s4 start with Martha kicking open Mandos's doors (she's holding 2 Silmarils; she can kick open whatever doors she wants) and demanding her obnoxious sister back...

(We COULD do a thing where the Valar deliberately put Fëanor back asap, but lbr they...would probably rather not, even if they need her alive to do certain things. On the other hand, if they did, what a fun conflict for her! On the third hand, SOMEONE has to Lúthien the other's Beren at least once - not that Martha is singing. She's going more for the 'threatens Ainur with swords' side of her heritage.)

(That WOULD create a fun 'Martha has been doing increasingly badass and angsty shit offscreen (while Seraphina was dead)' scenario that could lead smoothly into some flashbacks about what Martha was doing before the show started - namely, increasingly badass (and angsty) shit while Seraphina was in college...)

Because in terms of focus, the first 2 seasons are a little more about Seraphina. Having not Ranged for a while, she's more the audience's pov character to start, and then the big plotty drama is focussed on her in s2...and in s3, as they hunt the next Silmaril and she adjusts to being... That is, Fëanor adjusts to being...

She was Fëanor for a MUCH longer time than she's been Seraphina, but she's been Seraphina more recently and kinda more...vividly? She hasn't fully processed being Fëanor. Her hröa is human (and female-shaped and human-female-gendered, and elves don't define gender the same way and don't have gendered pronouns at all, so she's sticking with 'she/her' and it's not a big deal), and her fëa has been acting human, so her memory capacity is still mostly human, as are her reflexes, her need for sleep, etc... She's getting better, but it takes time.

But boy has this enhanced ALL of Seraphina's natural attention-seeking, forward-leaping, fight-starting, prideful, self-centered Protagonist(TM) behavior!

Which is driving Martha CRAZY, all the moreso because there's reason for it now. Aside from the fact that even with no memory of her past life, Seraphina was always brilliant, while Martha was just...normal at best. Clumsy and un-witty except with a weapon in her hand. Prone to sulking and shyness. Downright unlucky, while the universe seems to shower blessings on her sister.

Even when Fëanor is trying not to start a fight, she's so condescending. to her sister who is a mere mortal Man. Having been one for 25-odd years - still being one, in fact - Fëanor has lost much of her suspicion of Man as an usurping species (it was never really about Men anyway). But she's SO condescending.

(Martha IS her sister, still. Martha can hold the Silmaril without the Oath pushing Seraphina to burning wrath, because she is Fëanor's kin.)

(Though "Fëanor's kin" was only ever a stand-in for, roughly, "people Fëanor could trust to temporarily hold a Silmaril because he knew they'd give it back to him instantly if he asked." So, as the rift deepens between then, as she grows paranoid again...)

...returning to the point above: as Seraphëanor steps up as Person Who Can Explain Advanced Supernatural Shit, audience pov connects a little more with Martha. Also because Fëanor's radius of destruction is really fun to watch from the outside.

Yeah...Seraphina gets pretty high up her own ass over the course of s3, then dies, maybe heroically or maybe as foolishly as last time, then post-season hiatus smash cut to Martha kicking in Mandos's front door and dragging her back to life... I do love that.

SEASON FOUR...

After the shock wears of, the classic Fëanorian paranoia isn't helped by the fact that Martha IS keeping secrets. What she's been doing, who she's been doing it with...(some Maia, maybe even an Úmaia?) Though Arda's mythology doesn't have the same Heaven/Hell dichotomy as Earthly Christianity, so alaos we can't have the sexy sexy s4 thing of an angel on one sister's shoulder and a devil on the other's...

But basically I think s3 has to have been somewhat of a tragedy, as Túrin (unknowing) and Fëanor (just bad at this) played out their old tragedies in tandem. Rashness was often the undoing of both. Leaping to conclusions, action or both, though usually in opposite directions. With maybe a dash of parallels with ancient (ie, Second Age) Elf vs Man conflict - Martha is increasingly down on herself, but also, jealous of Seraphina's Protagonist Energy and increasingly ready to do some violence about it.

And none of that resolves in s3! Seraphina just gets killed!

So in s4, they have to figure it out. Seraphina needs to learn some sort of (gasp) humility, and how to let grievances (and loved ones) go. Martha needs to learn how to cope with regret and grief with means other than changing her name and moving to a different city.

(She's already starting, though! This time, she asked "what would Seraphina do', then broke into Mandos and demanded solutions!)

(...and Mandos, perhaps, was very ready to refuse until he got a good look at her fëa, silently went 'huh' in recognition, and waved them out.)

Then Martha starts having strange dreams and visions - maybe after they fight an ancient dragon? or maybe she already was, in the s3-s4 gap (after fighting an ancient dragon with her new Maia friend?)

Seraphina is initially PSYCHED about this- twinnies for real!! But they get some entity to look at Martha's fëa and they confirm that she's 100% a Man.

Monster of the Week episodes are still the main focus btw. Vampires and werewolves, cursed magical objects, rogue petty nature maiar, peacekeeping between factions of non-humans still dwelling secretly here and there... Though perhaps the masquerade is starting to fracture?

And, of course, some (other?) Maia has shown up and informed them that Sauron is embodied again and trying to complete a ritual to break a hole in the envelope of the world to let Melkor back in, which our heroes must stop!

Also, definitely need to get the 3rd Silmaril back this season. They got the one in the earth and the one in the sea...

- so, a fan favorite recurring character [a/n: IT'S MY IMAGINARY TV, I CAN IMAGINE THE FANDOM'S REACTIONS, TOO, AND ALSO TBH I'M CERTAIN I COULD DELIBERATELY CRAFT A FAN FAVORITE CHARACTER] is the twins' Uncle Earl, who isn't technically their uncle but rather an old family friend of their mother's. He is, in short, kind of an old kook. Some flavor of Southern - I'll flip a coin and say Louisianan? Lives on a houseboat, refuses to go ashore unless absolutely necessary because "the feds'll get me." Visiting nieces means there's someone else to go get groceries and gasoline (necessary, but he doesn't trust most delivery services or modern technology, either), so they've possibly never seen him set foot on land except maybe once on an isolated beach in rural Oregon. Fought in Korea. Has probably looked grizzled since age 12. Eats mostly fish, talks to birds, talks back to the radio.

- to be clear, this guy is not filling the Bobby 'faux-parent' role. ...okay maybe he is a little, emotionally. But he's not involved in "the family business." In terms of SPN characters, he's roughly Garth - appears once a season or so, is a delight for 1 episode, then we part ways. He calls Martha in s1 because there's been some "weird deaths" in the port he's in right now, and he knows they deal with "this sort of thing" but he can't get ahold of Laura. There's a mention of him in s2, that they called to tell him Laura had died. In s3, they need to lay low for a while so they join him on his boat for a few weeks, go stir-crazy and end up fighting a sea monster.

- Idk if he calls them again in s4 or they're trying to lie low again or they just run into him by chance...but they're dealing with MotW murders in some swampy Florida shore-town and on his ship (The Flower) when something much bigger than a swamp monster catches up with them. Say, Sauron sent an unstoppable Carcharoth-sized wolf monster, or maybe a super-vampire (some aerial combat would be fun), or just some Úmaia miniboss that a season or two would've been a season-climax boss fight...

- they're moored up when it arrives. Phina curses, Martha shouts for Earl to drive, drive the boat out as far and fast as he can! Earl was half-asleep at the table; he starts awake demanding if it's the feds?! Phina leaps to the wheel herself and slams the gas, while Martha grabs the old shotgun off the wall and fires at the giant shadowy wolf-monster.

They leave it howling on the pier. They'll have to go back and face it eventually, but they're not ready right now. Maybe they can even re-land far upshore, and it'll have lost their scent again...

- the giant shadow-wolf finishes howling starts chasing them running on the water

- Martha curses, and shouts Phina to drive faster. Earl (looking over Martha's shoulder, also cursed, almost impressed, at the sight of the wolf) tells her to give him the wheel. Phina shoves him away and shouts back as she yanks the wheel that they need to turn back, they can't win this fight on the water -

- the wolf is snapping at the Flower's keel. Phina curses in Valarian and yells at Earl to take the wheel and steer them back to land, while she runs back to help Martha fight the wolf.

- Earl flips a red lever in the [boat mechanics] cabinet under the wheel which we've probably seen before (Seraphina fixed something in s1), labeled "High Octane" and shouts, "Hold on, girls!" He slams the throttle again and the whole houseboat hydroplanes. The wolf falls overboard; Phina goes with it but Martha grabs her.

- the wolf gets to its feet on the water, and starts chasing them again

- "Confession time, girls!" Uncle Earl calls, steering the boat beyond full throttle while Martha and Phina get to their feet. "I did befriend your ma's dad while he was fighting in Korea. He whispered to the stars at night, when he felt lost." Adjusts a standing spyglass, tugs a string a couple times to turn on the lanterns on the prow and above the steering console, dons his navy blue-and-gold captain's hat. "I thought I couldn't have been happier to guide him home - then Elrohir met his Laura, and they fell in love. And had the two of you!"

- "Do you have a point?" Phina shrieks. She's scrambling to get her jacket out of her bag under one of the seats, because her Silmarils are in its pockets and the shadow-wolf is gaining. Martha, shooting at the wolf again, glances back, maybe having noticed that the old anecdote is phrased differently than before. Old Uncle Earl is standing unusually straight, his grizzled-gray hair gold-ish in the warm lantern light.

- "Yes!" he calls, jerking the boat away from the wolf again. Some of his Louisiana accent has fallen away, too. "Don't lose your wits - and keep holding on to something!"

- he tugs the light-cord again and the yellowy lantern-case above the wheel opens, and the light that shines forth is far brighter and paler. Its source falls into his hand as the lantern shakes with the Flower's speed, and he sets it on the brim of his hat - the illusion of which fades, leaving only the golden band on his brow with the Silmaril set upon, and Eärendil standing as tall, young, and golden-haired as when he first sailed the sacred seas. He gives the wheel another stern yank and the ship's prow rises even higher - and keeps rising, with the rest of the Flower in tow - the Foamflower, Vingilotë, every plank now aglow.

- "Also," he admits, looking over his shoulder to make sure neither of the twins has fallen off (again), "I'm your great-grandfather. I really am sorry to have - hey!"

- that's for Seraphina, who is Fëanor, Oath blazing in her heart, regaining her balance, sprinting up the deck and lunging with wrath in her eyes for the Silmaril.

- Eärendil dodges smoothly, while still keeping one hand on the wheel. "I said," he says reprovingly - while Martha bodily tackles her sister to the floor - "keep your wits Fëanáro. I'm here to help, as I ever have been for the people of Arda."

- the girls wrestle on the deck for a few more seconds before Seraphina calms down. It helps that they realize the wolf had grown giant wings of shadow and is chasing them aloft as well.

- btw: late in s4, the dwarvish researcher who's Bobby's fill-in and/or Martha's probably-trustworthy Maia friend should really be present as well for all of the above, but this ain't really about them. So I think they're just kinda. awkwardly Present for this family not-reunion. helping fight the wolf & all that.

- (Eärendil doesn't actually give back the Silmaril. But he lets Seraphina hold it for a few minutes, during which she is more at peace than she has been in millennia, and promises to let her have it again if/when she really needs it, if it isn't more urgently needed elsewhere. This is, more or less, satisfying to the Oath: as discussed "Fëanor's kin" was only ever shorthand for "people whom Fëanor could trust to hold a Silmaril without ever withholding it from him.")

Eeexcept it turns out that even Eärendil doesn't know that the Valar DO want Morgoth back, because they're kinda totally down to have Dagor Dagorath and reboot the world. Look it'll be great - Túrin - that's you, Martha - will help Eonwë and Tulkas slay him, then Fëanor will break the Silmarils, releasing the Light so that Eru can use it to Remake the world, Unmarred this time - Hey, where are you Children going? Stop stabbing people! Stab only the people we tell you to stab!

(Ulmo, ever wise, offscreen: When has that EVER worked? Especially with Fëanáro and his kin?)

Yeah, there's a scene very much like the end of SPN s4, wherein Martha gets grabbed by the celestial "good guys" and they admit that this is all kinda set-up but don't worry - here's your destined fuckoff-huge black sword, just wait a few minutes for your "sister" to once again achieve an evil end that's the exact opposite of what she intended; and then Martha has to convince the Maia she's been befriending all season to help her escape and go rescue Seraphina before she jumpstarts the apocalypse...

(Nb: Martha was already trying to stop Sauron from freeing Morgoth when the season started - she broke Seraphina out of Mandos party bc she loved and missed her sister, partly because she needed a Silmaril expert. But she's grown skeptical of the task somehow, while Seraphina - perhaps because Seraphina - has gotten vengefully obsessed with it. As Fëanor is wont to do. Hell, she has even more reason than she used to - she knows what Sauron did to her grandson.)

So, y'know

They do, of course, accidentally free Morgoth.

On the plus side, in the process, they get to jointly murder the SHIT out of Sauron, who was the REAL mastermind behind much of Laura's Bane's actions (and, honestly? Might've been the real one who killed Laura, and only set it up to look like a Balrog. Flames and shadows both can have many masters!)

SEASON FIVE, THE FINAL SEASON DEFINITELY FOLLOWED BY NO FURTHER SEASONS despite the temptation of a terrible sexy humanoid Ungoliant

I only have 3 ideas for season 5:

1. They go to Valinor at some point, of course. Perhaps to rally aid? The first elf they find, they introduce themselves grandly, Fëanor and Túrin Turambar here seeking allies to fight Morgoth! and the elf says blankly, "I have never heard of either of you." *squints* "You're Men, you say? Lord Ulmo keeps a Man on Tol Eressëa, I think. You could go to him?" But after that, as a running joke all episode, every other elf they meet recognizes Fëanor on sight (she has a very distinctive fëa) and immediately punches her in the face...and every other elf recognizes Tùrin on sight and all but tackle-hugs Martha while shouting joyfully that they never expected to see him again. Some (Beleg) actually do tackle-hug her (and nearly gets stabbed again) (#worthit).

2. To everyone's surprise, including the other Valar, Morgoth started his war upon creation subtly when he returned...but doesn't remain subtle for long, nor do those opposing him. By the end of the season, the masquerade that non-human sentient peoples and various other supernatural beings still live in Arda is all but shattered.

3. Then it's THOROUGHLY shattered in the finale. I don't know if the general human populace participates in the final battle - though I am SO weak for a moment when, like, the regular-ass armed forces, who are not necessarily allies to the heroes, show up to help fight a massive superhuman threat. When the SHIELD helicarrier shows up to evacuate civilians in Age of Ultron, when UNIT does pretty much anything in Doctor Who...I love it when the best protections & warriors the mundane human race could pull together also show the fuck up and help save the day because damnit, this is their planet too. ...Which is, in fact, very on-theme for Tolkien. So yes, actually, this definitely happens. Probably there's some conflict with US military forces mid-season, our heroes have to talk (fight & escape) their way out of being arrested for blowing up a national landmark while fighting a balrog, and the general in charge whom they'd half-convinced returns in the finale with a battalion to slam some missiles into Morgoth...

oh, and 4: Ar-Pharazón et al totally do come back from the dead. Probably on Morgoth's side lbr. They get a twisted undead immortality wherein they cannot die, just go on fighting for the dark lord to whom they once turned in jealous worship...

More importantly...

Okay, I really don't know exactly how the Dagor Dagorath goes. We're following the version that Eärendil will chase Morgoth from the skies; Tulkas, Eonwë and Túrin will fight him upon the field and Túrin will avenge his House and all the Race of Men by slaying him; and Fëanor will break the Silmarils and Yavanna will use their Light to remake the Trees, and the lands will be leveled or in some cases raised from the depths, and everyone will live happily ever after except possibly Men who aren't mentioned beyond Túrin.

This is what the Valar expect to happen (though they don't actually know-know Eru's plans.)

What happens instead is...

Most of the Morgoth-defeating does go exactly like that. Except probably they don't kill him for good - they CAN'T, because the Marring of the world is part of what Morgoth is, and the only way to undo him completely is to remake the world completely.

Which maybe could be done, by Eru if no one else, if He were beseeched? Which might be done with the strength of the Silmarils, their Light released?

And Seraphina does break the Silmarils. That's important for her - giving up her Protagonist role, just as slaying Morgoth - embracing her Protagonist role - is important for Martha.

...but I don't think they give the Light back to Yavanna. No offense to the Trees, but they never illuminated most of Arda anyway, and the world is round now anyway - and making it flat again would fuck it up - and we have, like, electrical lights, now.

Hell, maybe Seraphina is ready to give up the Light... Her instinct is to hold it back, to follow her own novel plans with it, but, oh, to regain what was lost! And she has come around on...some of the Valar. Selectively. Yavanna's one of the okay ones.

- but Martha, half-dead from the battle, drops to her knees beside her and catches her hands before she can loose the Light upward unto the grasp of the Tree-Queen.

- "Together?" Martha says (Túrin Turambar, ever the greatest Men had to offer - bull-headed, loyal, brave, unafraid of death, loving and losing and loving again).

- Seraphina's trembling lips curve into a fierce grin (Fëanäro Curufinwë, ever the greatest Elves had to offer - brilliant in mind and spirit, devoted, ever seeking to preserve and glorify the beauty of the world, and eventually learning some wisdom about letting go).

- "Together," she agrees.

- together, they hold the Light that once shone in the Trees, the Lamps, and the Flame Eternal of Creation itself; and as they release it, reach for the Great Music of Ëa that is deep in both their blood - for they are the daughters of Elrohir, son of Elrond, son of Elwing daughter of Dior son of Lúthien Tinúviel, daughter of Melian the Maia; and indeed, even before that, they are both trueborn Children of Eru, are they not? - and eschew utterly the Choice of the Peredhel by leaving the world round but Un-Sundering the Sea, that the kindred might still live apart, if they wished it - the Elder in their land undying, the Younger in their realms of quick and sometimes joyful, often savage change - but that they might visit one another, at least, as they pleased.

(I mean, wasn't the false division of siblings the whole problem from the start?)

Random Additional Features of this Show/AU/Thing

All elf and ainu side characters, canonical and not, will be cast gender-blindly, and characters referred to with the understanding that elvish personal pronouns don't necessarily correlate with physical phenotype, but Ainur do generally try to match local standards of gender assignment. Dwarves will all use he/him (and have beards!) even when fairly clearly female.

I have no idea what Martha is doing for gender once she remembers being Túrin. With all the time Túrin spent with Elves, she probably rolls pretty smoothly with being she/her now, though it's weird. Her memories definitely integrate more easily than Fëanor/Seraphina's, though, as much because she's the same kind of being both times as because there's less of them.

Both protagonists are definitely bisexual. Martha has a range of love interests; it's a running joke (at first) that Seraphina has a total Thing for redheads. Any kind of redhead. But especially creative ones - any kind of art or invention.

The role of Gabriel WILL be played by Maglor, albeit with a different death (don't worry, he'll be back for the finale) and much more...gloominess. And angst. Okay, and maybe his first appearance, in s1 or 2, IS cursing them - not knowing who they are - into a musical episode. (A WOMAN HAS NEEDS; THE WOMAN IS ME.)

When Martha meets Fingolfin and/or any of Fëanor's other siblings, probably in s5 but maybe s4, they immediately Vibe completely. It's the shared experience of growing up with Fëanor for a sibling. Needless to say, Seraphina Hates This.

Their chief researcher friend is a dwarf, who is also on the young-ish side I think, and a woman (he/him).

There's gotta be a notable hobbit on the Team before the end, too...but overall, hobbits remain symbolically representative of the Civilians in this war story.

Durin is alive again somewhere. Durin usually reincarnates in time to guide his people through particularly difficult times - or, to try. Their dwarf friend - what the hell, I'll just call him Bobby - tries SO hard to be Cool about meeting him, and fails SO hard.

I generally prefer to judge and characterize the Valar and associated Maiar as fallible to the point of clumsiness or negligence but basically wise and thoroughly benevolent...but I AM willing to throw some of them under the characterization bus for ease of making conflict in this hypothetical CW show.

...I probably have many more random thoughts but it's 3am and I want to post this whole insane thing. Feel free to ask me questions if you have them! And/or petition both the Tolkien estate and a major TV network for the rights, money, and support to help me make the terrible but wonderful show we deserve!

[ms-scarletwings]

I am sorry to bother you but I have to say, I feel Dib got treated too harshly most of the time. It's the point of the story yes but at times it just feels flat out sadistic for no reason.

It's why the Gargantis Array comic storyline sucks to me, it was just two issues of buildup to make Dib a gross fat joke and humiliate him across space. Jhonen just really seems to love torturing Dib more than anyone and it's rarely even deserved.

Oh, this is the opposite of a bother, friendo!

I actually have a lot of reading to still do on the topic of the comics. I’m woefully only really up to good knowledge about issues 46-49 and a lot of bits of pieces otherwise. If what you’re saying rings true, that is sad to hear, but pretty interesting still. I’ve always in the back of my head been a little afraid that Dib’s karma could be flanderized to the point of making him a butt monkey. Especially when we all know that’s supposed to be Skoodge’s job! (waka waka)

As for the show, honestly? I think they managed the balance just fine. It’s not so much that the show was specifically cruel to him, but that sadism broadly was one of its central themes and there were no efforts made to exclude Dib from that. And why should they have? He’s not an innocent woobie, and in fact is actually in the seat of a very ambitious antagonist against the real main character’s goals. Arbitrary events of misfortune and pain were the bread and butter of the series back then, and almost no one was spared. Jhonen (who cameoed himself in the show just to choke on a fish and die for a joke) also from what I hear injected a lot of his own qualities into Dib, so I imagine it probably IS very entertaining to him to give the boy the works.

From what I have seen of the comics, that looks like a much finer line to tow. And this more of an off the cuff ramble, but you know what I think??? I think they made Dib a touch way too sympathetic actually. There’s so much more focus on just him and Zim’s side antics, and the more time you take Dib off world and away from the rest of the Earth side characters, the fewer reminders they give you about how many of his problems are majorly self inflicted and how much of a disturbance he can be to society. And, for better or worse, a less dark overall tone in the comics means that the moments of overtly black comedy are going to stand out a little more against the modernized background by contrast.

And there’s another elephant in the room that kind of gets to me, personally. As well as I can put it well, the art style change kind of really affects the lens he can be viewed through. Maybe more than most people want to admit. And I’m not dissing the rounded down, brightened up change, it’s not a better or worse direction from the show… but it is a different one with different strengths and weaknesses.

Like, look at Dib’s early season model sheets for a base of reference.

Now compare him alongside the comic and Florpus interpretation of Dib Membrane. OBVS I am simplifying a ton here, there’s a ton of room for more range than these examples.

I’m not here to say he’s a better or worse Dib visually, he’s still Dib to me! But is notable how comic Dib actually breaks a ton of the “rules” of what kind of character they wanted Dib to be. To put it one way, they sanded down some of his edges and he’s not as apparently “skrungly” as he used to be.

What I like about the change is that it actually gives the better impression of him actually being the lil dorkass kid he’s always been. He’s got a slight aesthetic shift that shows off his unique interests and it definitely sets him apart from Zim, who actually retained most of his own show design. He’s still got some funny lookin’ qualities and he’s so much more endearing

One of the downsides of all that, however, is probably that he’s so damn endearing and as a default.

I dunno if you ever watched Little Shop of Horrors, amazing musical btw, but, it’s supposed to have this whole tragic ending where the main character’s, Seymour’s, long chain of mistakes catch up with him and he meets his demise. In the movie, they casted Rick Moranis for the character, and he played such a puppy-eyed, adorkable Seymour that it made audiences suddenly too bummed out to even appreciate the dark ending. They hated it so much that the crew actually just changed the ending completely so that Seymour gets a consequence-free happy ending with everything he ever wanted. Even though he’s literally a serial murderer of sorts. You were always supposed to feel for him, but not to the point where watching him fail just makes you feel horrible.

I think Dib works kinda like that on a meta level.

If there’s any ruling on what goes over that invisible line when it comes to handling his character, I think Florpus Gaz nailed it right on the head. Dib is never supposed to just utterly break under the weight of his world. Can he sometimes crack? Yeah totally, especially in the “brink of madness” sense. Or if it’s funny. The golden rule is not to give him more than he can handle, and Dib CAN handle a lot of bullshit. He may be a frustrated lil squirt but he’s been at this for a very long time, and it’s hype af watching how he’s not slowing down even in the face of that. Dib and Zim’s biggest POSITIVE shared trait is the strength of their spirits against a world that is ultimately callous and cruel at every turn to them.

Every second you write Dib where he’s wallowing in despair or feeling sorry for himself is a second you come closer to that line and it’s what you need to dish out in wary moderation.

So I guess the TL:DR of what i think I’m getting at here is… it’s all about perspective.

But I really should read more of the comics.