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hereconduct · 8 months ago

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who rings their own doorbell? from 11 to rose

there are parts of day to day life that she has yet to figure out,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎parts as simple as keeping tasks organized‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎(rent,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎taxes,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎even putting petrol in a car).‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎she knew them once,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎selves ago where rose was nothing more than a day to day occurrence of repeated interactions that were destined to make her go mad some day.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎she catches herself feeling that now‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎&‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎again,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎in a moment like this searching through her purse for her flat keys:‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎but she takes a deep breath,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎a steadying one every time.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎|‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎it could be worse,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎she could be her old self‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎&‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎nothing more,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎to the shop‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎&‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎back,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎to the chippy‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎&‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎back,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎turn on a show‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎&‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎rot away into her couch until sleep came for the night,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎to do it all once more.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎at least there's the new in between,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎keeping up with the space like happenings around town that never seem to stop.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎once her eyes were opened,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎they could never be shut again.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎it would be impossible for her to just go on.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎she couldn't in her old home‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎(dad's world as she had grown to call out in her diary sprawling),‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎she couldn't do it here:‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎back again,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎new name,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎same memories.‎

it's days like these,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎where nothing exciting's happened,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎there's nothing for her to look forward to,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎that she struggles–‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎evidently so by the way she rummages through her fairly empty bag looking in circles for keys that she knows aren't there‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎(the tardis key was always on her,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎it felt like a birth mark,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎a part of herself that she could sense with every passing second‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎/‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎keys that had much more importance to her than those to a boring‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎&‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎undecorated flat).‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"shit."‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎when she finally looks up to her door,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎flat number 9,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎she can't help her pitiful attempt at getting in.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎pressing the doorbell is a joke,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎a personal one that makes her focus,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎take a deep breath,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎don't get too frustrated,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎keys don't just up‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎&‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎disappear.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎so she closes her eyes,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎traces her steps from the bus back to the library,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎back to the coffeeshop,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎back to the–‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎who rings their own doorbell?

"oh my god!"‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎she stumbles nearly a few feet back,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎grasping at her chest to instinctually feel for her heart.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎she's used to being startled,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎grown almost comfortable with the familiarity of a racing chest‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎&‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎lungs that seemingly have forgotten how to function...‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎but not in her home,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎not when there's a strange man,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎@denouemente,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎standing in her now open doorway,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎a doorway that for all intents‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎&‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎purposes,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎should be closed.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"um..."‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎fear doesn't become rose t.yler,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎it's a rare thing‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎(even now she knows there's a blaster,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎one of torchwood's creations back in her dad's world,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎resting nicely‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎&‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ready to be drawn in her bag).‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"someone who doesn't know where her keys are–‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎how the 'ell are you in there?"‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎a finger raises,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎pointing into the slightly inhospitable living space behind him‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎(not the neatest,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎not decorated).‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"how the 'ell did you get in my flat ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎&‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎why the 'ell would'ya open the door if someone rang the doorbell?"‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎she should be concerned,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎any normal person would be:‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎but color her curious as her hand moves to position itself for quick grab‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎&‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎fire,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎of course only if need be.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"it's a bit fucking creepy don'tcha think?"

#denouemente #rose tyler : ic.#got carried away sorry #AIPOSJDFOP being very self servicey ANYWAYS #this is when she comes back to her original universe #because the other one started rejecting her due to her connection to the time v.ortex #she has an alias and is a private alien investigator :) hope that makes sense sorry this got long sorry it's a reunion thing #bye!

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dutybcrne · 10 months ago

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Forever love the idea of Kae being an absolute nerd once you get to know him. Dude acts all suave and charming, then upon getting home, his time is most preferred spent reading the latest rec Jean’s given him with a cup of tea in hand and a plushy tucked under his chin. Or is constantly abt .5 seconds away from infodumping or smth, esp the more he gets attached to sb.

#hc; kaeya #//Sb in the knights brings up an obscure fact & Kae has to restrain himself from dumping MORE on the subject #//And/or giddily making plans to investigate it with Lisa later first chance he gets #//I love the idea of him Immediately after finding out Jean loves romance stories; he tries his hand at penning one under an alias #//Then subtly suggests it to her; and just Anxiously awaits what she thinks #//It’s canon that he does love making up stories so; so much #//Dude loves learning things; and the more he likes the person sharing/is intrigued by them; the more he’d wanna #//Love the idea of him specifically learning all abt things his favorite like just to have the connection with them #//Only to genuinely end up interested in the subject for himself and his own whims too; sometimes obsessing more than them initially #//Also loves collecting things; if I remember correct #//Has a lil stash of things he would LOVE to ramble on and in abt given the chance #//In my mind; it’s either collected feathers of birds he’s found over the years #//Or it’s dried/pressed flowers he’s managed to acquire through various means #//Maybe even both #//Do like the latter tho #//Maybe the feathers thing was something he started with Luc as kids; then kept to it out of nostalgia #//Then the plants was just his own interest throughout his journey with his dad before being left at Dawn Winery #//Everything he had collected in a little bag or hastily pressed in a book before an showed him to properly #//Wants to go back and get new flowers so they look prettier now that he actually knows how to preserve them #//And to learn abt them from people who ACTUALLY know them best; not just from books

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mkcosplayorcovid-19prevention · 5 months ago

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I have kinda Committed to Jessica Jones...

I have Gotten the Majority of all her comicbook Runs...

But haven't read any... of the stoylines,

Maybe I like the Idea of Her... A super-powered P.I.

I need Jessica Jones - The Pulse: The Complete Collection

And probably in the Past seen a couple Of the Netflix show episodes...

#Alias #brian michael bendis #jessica jones #kelly thompson #gail simone #The Variants #private investigator #netflix #the defenders #the pulse

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roturo · 5 months ago

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SUCCESSOR -`♡´-

summary: He believes he’s going to die soon, and the idea of leaving the Kira case unfinished gnaws at him. The thought of his legacy fading away too soon is unbearable. He needs a successor. And soon.

warnings: A LOT of breeding, smut, unprocteted sex, overstimulation, multiple rounds, pwp, tummy buldge, mentions of cum, mating press, virgin!L, obssesed!L, mentions of forming a family, not proof read and sleepy while writing this. and more.

a/n: ik this is going to have as much support as my other works, but it's def one of my best and favs writings, so please show me your support with a comment and reblog! it means a lot for me!

You've been part of the task force for a while now, ever since L handpicked you for his elite team. As a regular member, you've earned your place and trust within the group. The necessity of keeping your identity hidden has diminished, thanks to the expanding team, but you still opt for an alias during meetings, maintaining a veil of secrecy around your true connection to L.

L’s mind is a labyrinth, each thought of a winding path leading to an unknown destination. His strategies are always a step ahead, his deductions razor-sharp. Yet, despite his brilliance, one specific thought has been haunting him lately:

He believes he’s going to die soon.

This isn't a paranoid delusion but a calculated assessment. L understands the immense dangers tied to the Kira case. The complexity of the situation has grown, and he suspects an external force at play, one that eludes even his grasp. This unknown entity has shifted the balance, making the case more perilous than ever.

L is determined not to let his legacy end prematurely. He has dedicated his life to solving the world’s most challenging mysteries, and the idea of leaving the Kira case unfinished gnaws at him. The thought of his legacy fading away too soon is unbearable.

He needs a successor.

And soon.

Finding someone who can match his intellect and tenacity is no simple task. The successor must be able to understand his intricate methods, to carry on his relentless pursuit of justice. The urgency of this mission weighs heavily on him, as he prepares to identify and groom the next guardian of his legacy.

You were the perfect match for him, and his calculations confirmed it. There was an 86% probability that having a child with you would result in someone with a higher IQ than his own, combined with the social skills he lacked. In the realm of interpersonal relationships, L was inexperienced, never having had a relationship or intimacy before. Recently, he had been contemplating how to propose this idea to you.

Should he ask you outright? Should he try to make you fall in love with him first? No, this wasn't about love. It was a precaution, a step in his investigation, a way to ensure his legacy continued if the worst were to happen.

The atmosphere in the headquarters was tense as always, the dim lighting casting long shadows across the room. You sat at your desk, engrossed in your work, when L’s quiet footsteps approached. His presence was magnetic, his aura of mystery and intellect always palpable. He paused beside you, his gaze fixed on the monitors displaying the latest updates on the Kira case.

“Can we talk?” His voice was soft, almost hesitant, a rare departure from his usual confident demeanor.

You looked up, surprised by the uncharacteristic uncertainty in his tone. “Of course, L. What’s on your mind?”

He shifted, glancing around the room as if searching for the right words. “There’s something I need to discuss with you. It’s… personal.”

Your curiosity piqued, you nodded, giving him your full attention. “I’m listening.”

He took a deep breath, his eyes meeting yours. “You’re aware of the importance of my work, of the dangers we face daily. The Kira case has made me realize that I must consider contingencies I hadn’t thought of before.”

You nodded, waiting for him to continue.

“There’s a… statistical analysis I’ve conducted,” he said, his voice becoming more clinical as he explained. “It suggests that if I were to have a child with someone of your intelligence and social capabilities, the child would have a higher IQ than mine and possess the social skills I lack. This could be crucial in continuing my work if anything were to happen to me.”

The gravity of his words hit you like a ton of bricks. L, always methodical and rational, had approached this highly personal matter with the same analytical mindset he used to solve cases. You could see the logic in his plan, yet the implications were overwhelming.

“So, you want me to… have a child with you?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Yes,” he replied, his eyes unwavering. “But understand, this is not about emotions or personal desire...I think” He whispers to himself before he continues– “It’s a precaution, a part of my contingency planning. I’ve never experienced a relationship or intimacy, so I’m uncertain how to approach this.”

The room seemed to close in around you as you processed his request. It was a cold, calculated proposition, yet it carried a weight of vulnerability and trust. L was placing his future, his legacy, in your hands.

“How do you expect this to work, L?” you asked, your voice tinged with both curiosity and trepidation.

“I’m not sure,” he admitted, his facade of invincibility cracking slightly. “I’ve considered different approaches. Should I simply ask you directly? Should I try to make you fall in love with me first? But this isn’t about love. It’s about ensuring that if I am no longer here, someone capable can continue my work.”

A silence fell between you, heavy with unspoken thoughts and emotions. L’s eyes searched yours, looking for understanding, perhaps even acceptance. You could see the conflict within him, the struggle between his logical mind and the unfamiliar territory of human connection.

“I need time to think about this,” you finally said, your voice gentle but firm.

L nodded, a flicker of relief crossing his features. “Of course. Take all the time you need. This is not a decision to be made lightly.”

Finally, you made your decision.

One evening, you found L in his usual spot, hunched over his laptop, eyes glued to the screen. The dim light cast shadows across his face, highlighting the intensity of his focus. Taking a deep breath, you approached him, your heart pounding in your chest.

“L,” you said softly, breaking the silence. He looked up, his piercing gaze meeting yours.

“I’ve thought about what you asked,” you continued, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside. “And I agree.”

For a moment, L simply stared at you, processing your words. Then, slowly, he nodded, his fingers tapping lightly on the edge of his desk. “Understood. Thank you for your cooperation.”

You took a seat across from him, the air between you charged with a new sense of purpose. “How do we proceed?”

L leaned back, his thumb brushing his bottom lip in thought. “We need to ensure this doesn’t disrupt our work or compromise the investigation. The task force must not be aware of our personal connection, as it could create complications.”

You nodded, understanding the delicate balance that needed to be maintained. L’s expression remained impassive, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes. “I must admit that emotional connections are not my area of expertise. This will be… a learning experience. Should… we do it tonight?”

“Ah- Ah- Slow down, L-Lawliet!” you gasped, your voice breaking with a mix of pleasure and urgency.

L’s thrusts were sloppy but fast, driven more by instinct than experience. His movements lacked rhythm, a clear sign of his inexperience. He had come twice already without withdrawing from you, his body responding purely on primal urges.

He had done his research, concluding that a mating press might be the most effective position for this purpose. But he never anticipated how overwhelmingly good it would feel. Was it like this with everyone? Or was it something unique because it was you?

His thrusts grew more erratic, almost desperate. Small whines escaped his mouth, each one tinged with your name like a prayer. You could feel every twitch, every movement inside you, the raw intensity of his desire almost too much to bear.

“L,” you whispered, trying to regain some control. “You need to… slow down.”

He nodded, a bead of sweat trickling down his forehead. “I’m trying,” he panted, his voice unsteady. “It’s just… so overwhelming.”

His usually sharp, calculating mind seemed lost in the haze of sensation. Every thrust, every brush of skin against skin, was a new experience for him. You could see the conflict in his eyes, the struggle between maintaining control and giving in to the raw pleasure.

He moaned at the familiar, overwhelming sensation of climaxing again, and you could feel your own release approaching. The intensity was almost unbearable when he grabbed a pillow and slipped it under your back, angling you into an even deeper mating press. His thrusts became more deliberate, his cock somehow reaching deeper, hitting your g-spot with precision over and over again.

The pleasure was so intense, so all-consuming, that all you could do was chant his name like a mantra, each syllable a prayer of ecstasy. “L-Lawliet,” you breathed, your voice trembling with the force of your impending climax.

He watched you with dark, hungry eyes, his own pleasure driving him to thrust harder, faster. “S-shit,” he gasped, his breath hitching, “I think—” His words dissolved into a whine as he came again inside you, his release flooding your womb with a desperate, addictive need.

This wasn’t just about producing a successor anymore. It was about the raw, primal satisfaction of filling you over and over again. He was captivated by the sight of your bodies joined, the way your mixed arousal leaked from where you were connected, glistening in the dim light.

“Lawliet,” you cried out, your own climax hitting you with the force of a tidal wave. Your body tightened around him, milking every last drop of his release as he continued to thrust, his movements erratic and needy.

He whimpered, the sound vibrating through his chest as he pressed his forehead against yours, his dark hair falling in a messy curtain around your face. “You feel… incredible,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion and exertion.

He groaned before pressing his lips to yours, the kiss deep and fervent. His cock remained erect inside you, pulsing with an insatiable desire. The feeling of having you this close, of being connected so intimately, was overwhelming. In that moment, he lost all sense of reason and the initial purpose behind his actions.

His mind, usually so sharp and focused on the Kira case, was now clouded with visions of a future he never thought he'd consider. He imagined how adorable you would look, carrying his child, a baby with his eyes and your smile. The idea of having a family with you consumed him, pushing all thoughts of logic and strategy aside.

Without realizing it, he began thrusting again, the movement instinctual and desperate. Each thrust was deliberate, fulfilling the small bump of cum inside you that was already visible through your tummy. He watched in awe, fascinated by the sight of your bodies joined so intimately, the tangible evidence of his desire and your shared pleasure.

“L-Lawliet,” you gasped against his lips, your hands clutching his shoulders as he moved within you. “What... what are you thinking?”

He pulled back slightly, his eyes locking onto yours. “I’m thinking… I’m thinking about us. About a future I never allowed myself to dream of.” His voice was rough with emotion, a raw edge that you rarely heard.

Your heart swelled at his words, the vulnerability in his usually composed demeanor striking a chord deep within you. “Lawliet,” you whispered, your fingers tracing the contours of his face. “I never imagined… I never thought you’d want this.Want me”

“I didn’t either,” he admitted, his thrusts growing more purposeful. “But now, with you, that's all I can think about. The idea of you carrying my child, of us having a family…you in general… it’s overwhelming.”

He kissed you again, more gently this time, savoring the softness of your lips against his. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure through you, the sensation heightened by the emotional intensity of the moment. His hands roamed your body, memorizing every curve, every detail.

“Do you… do you want this too?” he asked, his voice trembling slightly.

“Yes,” you breathed, the admission freeing a weight you hadn’t realized you were carrying. “I want this. I want us.”

His eyes darkened with a mix of relief and desire, and he kissed you harder, his movements inside you becoming more urgent. The room filled with the sounds of your shared pleasure, each moan and gasp a testament to the bond growing between you.

As he continued to thrust, you could feel the tension coiling tighter within you, each movement pushing you closer to the edge. He seemed to sense it too, his rhythm intensifying as he chased his own release.

“Lawliet,” you cried out, your climax hitting you with the force of a tidal wave. Your body tightened around him, every nerve ending alight with sensation.

He groaned, his own release following closely behind, filling you once more. The feeling was addictive, the raw intimacy of it all-consuming. He held you close, his forehead resting against yours as you both caught your breath.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” he whispered mostly to himself, his voice filled with wonder.

“Neither can I,” you replied, your heart pounding in sync with his. “But it feels right. It feels perfect.”

He nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. “It does.”

You stayed entwined like that, savoring the afterglow and the newfound depth of your connection. The Kira case and the outside world faded into the background, replaced by the warmth of each other’s presence and the promise of a future together.

Eventually, as the reality of your situation began to seep back in, you knew you had to return to your duties. But the bond you had forged would remain, a source of strength and comfort in the days to come.

As L gently pulled out and helped you adjust, he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. “We’ll figure this out,” he said softly in a small whisper. “Together.”

“Together,” you echoed, your heart filled with a certainty that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them side by side.

#l lawliet smut #l lawliet #l smut #l death note #death note #death note anime #death note smut #light yagami #light yagami smut #ryuzaki #l lawliet x you #l lawliet x reader #l lawliet fanart

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professorcalculusstanaccount · 2 months ago

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An AU where Tintin is a crime lord, inspired by @jerseyhobby 's post here!

Detective Rastapopoulus is one of the most brilliant minds in his department. His talent has been long overlooked due to his status as an immigrant, but when a new teenage menace starts to stir up the streets, Rastapopoulus's knack for digging into the murky depths of the criminal underworld is called upon.

His target is only known by his alias, Tintin. At just seventeen he already has a few bank heists, smuggling operations and a chain of illegal clubs under his belt. He operates like a phantom, making himself hardly known. Those who have had business with him never recall him raising his voice, as he simply does not need to. Manners go a long way, and manners are an effective mask for the brutality required to maintain such an operation.

Few are confirmed to know him personally. He has his beloved dog, Snowy, who has a taste for expensive jewelry, and his right hand man, a pickpocket-turned jewel thief he met in Shanghai. Together they are unstoppable, nothing is outside their reach - and when the Karaboudjan, a large shipping vessel goes missing, along with its crew and captain, Rastapopoulus just knows they are involved. If only he can keep his temper and ego in check, he might just be able to finally put an end to Tintin's reign of chaos, and perhaps earn the recognition he so desperately craves.

I think an AU where Tintin uses his abilities for crime would be an interesting way to see how he's impacted people he's met, so for this take I have only inverted Tintin and Rastapopoulos - Haddock is still an honest man, but his vulnerability leaves him open to being manipulated. He becomes Tintin's equivalent to Allan Thompson, only this time motivated by fear for his life rather than money. Alcohol, threats and his rock-bottom self esteem keep him in line.

Calculus is scammed by Tintin for his inventions, leaving him feeling deeply betrayed as he is someone with strong morals. He vows revenge, his tunnel vision leading him down incredibly destructive paths. He was initially targeted by Tintin because he just seemed naive and easy to exploit, but Tintin severly underestimates him, despite Chang's warnings. Not only does Tintin have the law on his tail, but a mad scientist with nothing left to lose, who has access to devastating explosives.

Chang simply wants somewhere he belongs. Canonically he's stolen from cops before, so there's no doubt that if Tintin dragged him into crime he would follow along - but he may start to doubt if their bond is built more on what he can do for him rather than his value as a person.

Rastapopoulos this time gets to use his cunning to catch a slippery crime lord, but he still has the same shortcomings as his canon counterpart. He sorely craves attention and praise. He has a terrible short temper. He craves power and influence. He starts to use increasingly questionable methods for his investigation, as his higher ups breathe down his neck for being incapable of catching a couple of queer teenage hoodlums.

Tintin himself isn't motivated by money or power, he's looking for thrills and control over his life. Canonically he's rather emotionally shut off, and he's no different here. He doesn't let himself get too attached to anyone else. Unlike canon Rastapopoulos, I can imagine a crime lord Tintin pouring money and resources into communities in need, and opening up spaces for marginalised groups like bars for queer people. He still wants to do good deep down, but just doesn't quite believe he is a good person.

#tintin #fanart #adventures of tintin #captain haddock #archibald haddock #rastapopoulos #chang #snowy #professor calculus #cuthbert calculus #animation #opposites au #opposite universe #gifset #detective rastapopoulos #tinchang #ive been really low on energy recently #so i probably wont be able to post much from now but i'll try #but yeah the animation in this post is kinda bad sorry lol

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