#anyways the collection as it stands is already SO MUCH to deal with

[aishangotome]

[Azel] The Mean Unicorn's Greedy Desire (Bday Story) - Part 1

It had been a while since I started staying in Tanzanite as a traveling merchant---

The day of the Nativity Festival arrived, celebrating the day the living god, worshipped as the incarnation of the moon, descended to this world.

(Amazing... Everywhere is bustling with festivities.)

The shop on the right is selling palm-sized statues of the living god, and the shop on the left is selling commemorative coins that were apparently made to celebrate this year's Nativity Festival...

If I look ahead, I see a multitude of people praying around the statue of the living god, and if I look behind, I see dancers performing a dance dedicated to the god.

The market, filled with a mix of locals and tourists, was so crowded that it was difficult to even walk, so as soon as I finished the job the owner asked me to do, I rushed into a nearby alley.

(I didn't think the crowds would be this bad, but surely there's no one in the back alley––)

Azel: ...Huh?

Emma: Eh...?

Standing right in front of me was the god himself.

(Am I having a daydream?)

I rubbed my eyes and looked again, but the scene didn't change.

Emma: Why is Prince Azel in a place like this–– Nggh!?

Azel: Don't make a fuss, don't shout, be quiet! Do you want to be sued for damages? Fine with that, huh?

(That's so unreasonable!)

Azel quickly closed the distance between us, covered my mouth with his hand, and dragged me into the shadows.

(Is he perhaps hiding?)

When I signaled with my eyes that "I'll be quiet," he finally let go of my hand.

Azel: Of all people, why did you have to find me? This is the worst.

Emma: Were you doing something bad?

Azel: If I were, you wouldn't see tomorrow.

Emma: ...I'm glad that's not the case.

Emma: But, why is the guest of honor himself in the shade on a day like this?

Azel: Did it look like I was having fun?

Emma: ...No.

Azel: That's how it is.

(No, what does that mean?)

Azel let out a huge sigh by my ear.

It tickled, and my shoulders jumped, but Azel didn't seem to notice.

Azel: Do you know what day it is today?

Emma: It's Prince Azel's birthday, right? Happy Birthday.

Azel: Thank you. I'll be collecting presents later, so please be prepared.

(Shoot, I wasn't thinking!)

Azel: I prefer presents with actual items rather than just feelings.

Emma: ...So that's how it is.

Azel: But what all the citizens want to give me are "feelings."

Azel: No, even feelings are questionable... Anyway, people don't really care much about "whether I'll be happy or not."

(Is that... so?)

Azel: What do you think would happen if I went out on the main street now?

Emma: It might cause a commotion. Everywhere is already buzzing about Prince Azel.

Azel: In other words, that's how it'll be.

(I see, I understand now. He's hiding here because he doesn't want to cause a stir.)

As soon as one question was resolved, another one immediately popped up.

Emma: Wouldn't it have been better to stay in the usual temple...?

Azel: That's why I'm here, isn't it?

Perhaps out of spite or something, he pinched my cheek.

Azel: The main event of the Nativity Festival is the divine ritual.

Azel: If I skip this, the whole nation will start making a fuss, wondering if something has happened to the god, and politics, economy, everything will collapse.

Emma: That's a bit of an exaggeration...

Azel: You think so?

Azel: But it's no exaggeration to say that for the people of Tanzanite, god is the pillar of their spirit.

Azel: If that pillar cracks even a little, people will lose their minds.

Azel: For example, you like books, right? You might not be able to read them at all from tomorrow...

Azel: If that were to happen, could you remain calm?

Emma: I might not be able to.

Azel: That's how big of a deal it is for someone to lose their spiritual support.

Azel: ...Though it's a huge pain.

(Somehow... I think I understand.)

(Azel has to go to the castle no matter what, for the sake of the people.)

(Because that's his duty as a god.)

Emma: Is there no secret passage to get to the castle?

Azel: No. The more entrances the castle has, the more invasion routes there will be.

Azel: Tanzanite Castle is built in such a way that there is no other way to get there than through the main street.

(So, a commotion is unavoidable...)

Emma: Then, I'll be cheering you on from the shadows.

(There's nothing I can do anyway...)

Just as his hand left my cheek and I was about to turn around, he placed his hands on both my shoulders.

Azel: That's not right, is it?

Emma: Wh-What do you mean?

He squeezed my shoulders tightly, putting pressure on me both physically and mentally.

Azel: You think you can just go somewhere without giving me a present?

Azel: By the way, I don't want anything you just randomly bought at the market.

Emma: But, you want a physical item, right?

Azel: A thoughtless item is the same as bulky trash.

Azel: Let me see, what I want from you...

Azel, who had been lost in thought, suddenly changed his expression to a god-like benevolent smile.

I couldn't help but tense up.

Azel: I've never had a birthday cake before, so I'd like that.

Emma: ...Eh, never, ever?

Azel: Never. Because I'm a god.

(Oh right... The way gods celebrate is different from ordinary people.)

(But, why... does his smile seem sad?)

Emma: If I can use the castle kitchen, I can make one...

Azel: I'll arrange it. But for that, you have to go to the castle with me.

Emma: Together...?

Azel: Yes, together.

(If we go to the castle together, won't we get caught up in the commotion...?)

Azel: You want to celebrate me, don't you? You do, right?

The god enveloped me in a benevolent smile, as if bathed in a halo of light.

Azel: Very well. I will offer you my divine lending service at a special price.

Azel: Just for today, I am yours... In other words, we are bound by fate. Please take care of me.

(This wicked god––!)

.

.

.

Part 2

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[shopwitchvamp]

if u made a gold and white version of the dark cathedral midi (light cathedral perhaps?) id be ALL OVER IT

That's a guest artist design so it'd be up to them! And let's maybe get through this first set first before I can even begin to free up brain space to think about variants 😅

[neo-nomatrix]

(My) Nuisance

Hobie brown x reader

word count: 964

find the rest of the mini series here

synopsis: You thought you hated Hobie, but for some reason you’re starting to like him just as much as you like Spiderman.

a/n: (maybe too much) british slang used

You hate your next door neighbor. No, no you loathe your next door neighbor. You think he is the worst person to possibly exist. His stupid flat decorations, his loud punk-rock music blasting at unruly hours, the way he would come back to his flat at 4 am stomping his boots yelling with his friends about their latest anarchist protest. But you hate nothing more than the way he looks at you.

Everytime you try yelling at him he opens his door with the cheekiest grin on his face. While you’re standing there fuming he’s leaning against the door panel looking you up and down. The worst part is how much he tries to smooth talk you.

“I already told you how annoying your music is, no one wants to hear that at 3 am alright? Some of us have work in the morning,” you complain, smoke practically coming out of your ears.

“Oh c’mon love it’s not that bad. Don’t have to be such a tosser ‘bout it. It messes up that pretty face of yours,” he says.

“Are you daft? You’re the one keeping everyone up at night with your dumb guitar,” you roll your eyes.

“It’s not that big a deal sweetheart. Y’know i'm starting to think you’re making up rubbish just so you can talk to me more. I’ll admit it’s pretty cute but you could just ask me out,” he leans closer to your flushed face.

“I don’t fancy you if that’s what you mean,” you scoff.

“Not saying that. I’m saying if you wanna snog me so bad you could just say so,” he shrugs.

You could burst out laughing. Kiss him? That’s fucking hilarious.

“You’re joking right? i’d rather die.”

“I don’t believe in comedy, love,” he says.

“Of course you don’t,” you mumble as you storm off back to your door.

You’ve decided he is the worst person ever. He doesn’t deserve your efforts and time.

You set your keys down and fall into bed as you hear amp feedback and the sounds of Hobie strumming his guitar. You can’t help but roll your eyes. How could someone be so incompetent?

You reach your hand over to where the bed and the wall meet to grab your Spiderman plush. You hate to admit it because it’s kind of dumb but you’ve always loved spiderman. Ever since you were a little kid you collected posters, figures, pins, and merchandise having to do with the superhero. Even now, your walls are decorated in spiderman posters, you own spiderman clothing, and even printed your keys to have a blue and red spider web on them.

There was something so nostalgic to the vigilante and his style that you had to adorn your room with touches of blue and red. You thought spiderman was the embodiment of “cool.” From his suit to the way he acted around criminals to the electric guitar on his back. Sure, a guitar was the main thing you hated about Hobie but Spiderman did it better. He made it work in the way Hobie dreams of.

You wake up to the loudest knock on your front door you’ve ever heard. You immediately know it’s him. You try to ignore the blaring pounding coming from your door but it keeps going. You force yourself to get up and answer the door. You hope you can open it, yell at him, then go back to bed.

To your dismay the second you open the door Hobie places his hand on the top of the wood, stopping you from moving it anywhere else.

“What do you want this early?” you groan.

“It’s like 9 am, love. But anyway-” He cuts himself off before finishing his sentence. You’re too groggy to notice that he’s staring inside of your flat. His eyes search the walls and decor in front of him.

“So, I take it you like Spiderman?” He laughs.

“That’s none of your business,” you sigh, crossing your arms.

He pushes his way inside of your flat, moving around like he’s looking for buried treasure. He picks up memorabilia and smiles at them. He holds up a Spider-Punk figurine and turns towards you.

“Spider-Punk huh?”

“Don’t touch my stuff! You know this is technically breaking and entering,” you scold him, taking the figure out of his hand.

He puts his hands in his pockets and just smirks at you. That stupid smirk, displaying half of his teeth and perfectly showing his lip ring.

“What do you want from me, Hobie?” you question after placing the figure back on its stand.

“Jus- Just wanted to apologize for last night,” he starts.

“You mean this morning? We talked at 1 am, remember?” You say, passive aggressively.

“Right, whatever. You’re… You’re right,” he exhaled, “I shouldn’t be blasting my music that early. It’s inconsiderate and rude to the people in my vicinity,” he breathes.

In the time you’ve known him you don’t think you’ve ever heard him say sorry. You’re taken aback, did he really apologize? And did he sound genuinely sorry?

“Oh, oh uhm thanks,” you sat, still skeptical a camera crew would come out laughing saying this whole thing was a prank.

“I wanted to see if you maybe wanted to come to my show tonight? We could get dinner after or whatever you want,” He scratches the back of his neck, he’s nervous.

“I’d like that, I guess,” you reluctantly say.

“Wicked. Uhm, i’ll be leaving then. Sorry again,” he says. Shooting finger guns at you and making his way out the door.

You smile, maybe, just maybe, Hobies getting to you. As he’s leaving you could swear you see some blue and red material with spikes on it slipping out of his pocket.

[innerfare]

Killer Relationship Headcanons 

Summary: A collection of headcanons about being in a relationship with Killer

Genre: Fluff

CW: None // SFW

———

Killer fell first and fell harder. He didn’t realize it was happening at first, he was just as shocked as you were to realize he turned into a rabid dog when anyone so much as mentioned your name, fighting anyone who so much as looked at you the wrong way. Even more shocking was the sweeter side you brought out of him. 

You had no idea what was happening in Killer’s head. To you, Killer was just a crew mate, and not just any crew mate: the first mate. You had the wherewithal to clock the man in the mask as emotionally unavailable and that was that. Sure, you often went for drinks together, but only with the whole crew, and yeah, you laughed at the same jokes and ate the same meals, but it was as crew mates, the lines clearly drawn and the knowledge that he was dangerous always in the back of your head. 

But then he started doing things for you. 

He started making a different side at dinner because the one he was serving everyone else wasn’t something you would eat. He started giving you the best piece of dessert, much to Kid’s chagrin. He started stepping aside when it came time to board the Victoria Punk to allow you to board first. He started scaring off men at pubs and taverns before they ever got the change to be rejected by you. Oh, and he started intervening in all of your fights. 

You take the fighting bit personally, never having considered he was into you. You think he’s just underestimating you, thinking you can’t hold your own in a fight. This leads you to confront him one night, more than prepared to duel him to prove your worth as a pirate and warrior. He shocks you by coming clean and confessing his feelings for you, though not exactly in a romantic way. It’s more like he’s pissed off by your accusations and snaps at you that he can’t stand the idea of you getting hurt. He storms off afterwards. 

It takes you a few days to process what he told you because it makes you see him in a completely different light. Gone is the cold-blooded killer you shared a ship with, here is the man who has been taking care of you in small ways without you even realizing. And the most shocking part is how the idea of him stopping makes your chest ache. You grew accustomed to his affection without even realizing. 

You wait until around midnight, when you know he goes into the shower alone, and follow him in. He lets you see him without his mask, and you share your first kiss. That’s that, and from that point forward, the two of you are an item. 

The shower becomes the main place the two of you spend alone time together. Killer finds it easier to let his guard down. He’s going to take his mask off anyway to wash up, which makes it easier to do with you around. He’s able to convince himself it’s not a big deal, and the fact that you’re so cool about it helps. His face is a secret the two of you share, as are his kisses and kind words and difficult past. 

You’re his safe space and he’s yours. 

Don’t expect him to stop intervening in your fights now that you share his bed every night. He claims it’s because you’re too slow and he got to the enemies first, or because you looked like you already had your hands full, but you know the real reason he jumps in. 

He always keeps one of the counters clear in the kitchen so you can sit on it while he cooks. Everything that lands on the table is tasted by you first. 

Merciless teasing by Kid (he’s just jealous). 

After he eats his fruit, you realize not all of his laughs are the same, and you learn to read his emotions based on the different laughs, speaking a language he hates but is oh so grateful to you for learning. 

This is the sort of thing your relationship is built on- subtleties. It’s what made him fall in love with you and it’s the reason he would kill or die for you. 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[whump-imagines]

Just a Sprain

Tim x reader

WC: 1200 ish

For @whumpcember walking on injuries

--

You’d been sitting on the couch for two hours when you heard the front door unlock.

“Hey, babe,” you greet. “How do you feel about delivery for dinner? I'm thinking maybe pizza.”

“I thought you wanted to try that new recipe you–” he stopped as he rounded the couch and took you in. “What happened?”

You leaned forward and pulled the ice pack and towel off your very swollen ankle. “Ugh, I tripped off a curb like a total klutz and then I walked on it for four blocks.”

He sat, carefully avoiding your foot, then gently rubbed his hand up and down your calf. “Why didn't you call me? I would have come to get you.”

“Well it was after lunch with Sam when we were walking to the bar and I might have already been tipsy. So it didn't really hurt at the time,” you explained.

Tim chuckled. “Of course. Does it hurt now?”

You shook your head. “No. I took some ibuprofen when I got home and I've been icing it, too.”

He took the mostly melted ice pack and stood. “ER tonight or urgent care tomorrow?”

You looked up at him, confused. “For what? I'm sure it's a sprain.”

He pulls out his phone and starts typing before he explains. “That's a lot of swelling for a sprain. You're getting x-rays to make sure it's not broken.” His phone dings and he checks the screen. “Grace says you should get in pretty quick. We can grab fast food on the way.”

You let out an exasperated sigh. “Fine. Can we get Jack in the Box?”

“Whatever you want.” He stands from the couch and turns to lift you.

You swat at his hands. “I can walk. Or hobble slowly, anyway.”

He easily lifts you into his arms. “I think you walked on it too much already.”

“I bet you it's just a sprain.”

He smiles at you. “What do I get when you're wrong?”

“Um, a foot rub?” you suggested.

He set you in the passenger seat of his truck and started to pull out the seatbelt. “And what do you get?”

You took the buckle for him and latched it. “I got it, my arms still work. I get a dressed up dinner date.”

He chuckled and closed your door. He rounded the front and hopped into the drivers seat. “Dress shirt?”

You shook your head. “Three piece suit.”

He rolled his eyes. “Okay, deal.”

Ten minutes later, he was pulling into the drive-thru and ordering your dinner.

As soon as he pulled back into traffic, you pulled out sandwiches and fries. Arranging them carefully on the center armrest, you stuffed a few fries in your mouth. “This was a better idea than cooking.”

“Of course it was. You can't stand on that ankle.”

“Well, yeah. But that’s not what I meant. I wasn't really sold on that new recipe.”

While you sat in traffic on the way to the hospital, you both finished your food. Soon after, he pulled up to the emergency room entrance. He got out and rounded the truck, lifting you again and carrying you into the waiting room.

He walked up to the desk to check you in and returned a moment later with a clipboard. “You fill this out and I'm going to go park. I'll be right back.”

Shortly after he returned, you finished all the paperwork and he returned it to the check in desk. When he sat, you leaned your head on his shoulder. He kissed the crown of your head before resting his cheek against your head. Both of you pulled out your phones to pass the time.

As Grace had promised, you didn't have to wait long. It had only been about half an hour a nurse was calling you back.

“Can we grab a wheelchair?” Tim requested.

“Oh, of course. I'll be right back.” She disappeared around the corner and then pushed the chair over to you.

Tim helped you stand on your good leg and rotate to the wheelchair.

The nurse took you back to a room and Tim helped again with getting you situated on the bed. She quickly collected a set of vitals and left with a promise that a doctor would be in soon.

Grace came into the room a couple minutes later. “Hey, guys. How are you?”

“I'm fine,” you started. “I tripped over a curb earlier and Tim thinks it's broken. I think he's paranoid.”

“Alright, well let's take a look.” She looked at your foot and carefully examined it. Once she'd checked everything over she asked, “So you said you tripped on a curb? Going up or down?”

“Down,” you explained. “I wasn't paying attention and I was closer to it than I thought and I guess, technically, kind of rolled my ankle on the top and then my foot slid and I fell. But it really didn't hurt that much. Not even after I walked four more blocks to the bar.”

She hummed. “Well let's get an x-ray and see what we've got, okay?”

“Okay.”

“They'll come get you shortly and take you down to radiology.”

“Thanks, Grace,” Tim said. “Could we get an ice pack to put on it while we wait?”

“Already on it. The nurse will bring that in–” She was interrupted by the door swinging open to reveal the same nurse that'd brought you back. “Right now.” Grace laughed. “I'll be back as soon as I get those x-rays. Just call a nurse or text me if you need anything.”

A few minutes later, a guy came in pushing a wheelchair. “Evening, I'm Matt. I'll be your ride to x-ray.”

He and Tim helped you maneuver into the wheelchair. “I should have just stayed in the one I was in a minute ago.”

“You can wait here,” Matt told Tim. “You can't go into radiology. We'll be back in a few minutes.”

Soon you were back in the same room in the ER waiting for Grace to come tell you the results of the x-ray.

“Okay, so you do have a small hairline fracture,” Grace announced as she entered. She took the x-ray and slid it onto the light board. She traced a small dark line across the bone. “I'm pretty sure it is a stress fracture from walking on the sprain.”

“Ugh. So cast?” You ask.

“No. You'll get a boot for a few weeks and then a brace after that,” she explains. “Once the fracture heals, you'll likely need some physical therapy.”

She quickly got you set up with the boot and a referral to PT. Then she got you discharged and Tim walked you back to the truck.

Once he buckled his seat belt, he looked over at you. “So, I think you owe me a foot rub.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, yeah. You win.”

“I'll hold off on cashing in until you're healed, deal?” He offers.

“Okay,” you agree.

He takes your hand in his. “How about some ice cream on the way home?”

“Yes, please!”

[aramynx]

SWEET BERRY WINE & COURAGE

IZUKU MIDORIYA X READER

summary: you get the chance to reconnect with izuku a few years after graduation at a new years party, and a few glasses of wine bring you to spark up a conversation…

a/n: we a little late with this one but i hope you guys enjoy! i left izuku out of my christmas fics so he’s getting the new years special all to himself >:3

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

You were starting to feel a headache coming on- this heroes party had been going on for way too long and the noise was finally starting to get to you after five hours of being surrounded by people. Thankfully, this was a press-free event, so at least you didn’t have the paparazzi forcing a camera in front of you at every waking moment. You had already spoken to most people, everyone had dawdled back off into groups they were familiar with, so you ended up sitting among your classmates from your UA days. The wine you were drinking was only a stronger red, smelling and tasting like berries.

You listened to their conversation, not really paying much mind to what they were saying as your eyes scanned the room, finger lightly tracing the rim of your wine glass. They decided to settle on a familiar head of green hair standing in front of the near empty buffet table. Hastily you stood up from your place at the end of the table and made your way over. Regrettably, you and Izuku hadn’t been as close as you had hoped back in high school, and slowly lost touch over the past couple of years with life getting in the way- now would be a good time to catch up, since he was currently by himself, looking handsome in a neatly pressed black suit, accompanied by the classic red shoes, of course.

“Hey Izuku! Long time no see.” You said rather loudly as you approached him with a wave, “You look great tonight! How have you been?”

“Y/N!” Izuku smiled back. That big, beautiful, beaming smile that hadn’t changed one bit since the first time you saw it, still full of hope and happiness, “Thank you, I’ve been good- just really busy, you know?”

Izuku didn’t get nervous to the extent that he used to anymore, although he was still pretty easy to fluster, and his face would still turn completely when he blushed.

“You look good too, by the way.” He said, smiling as he looked you up and down, admiring how wonderful you looked in your chosen outfit, and how the colour complimented you perfectly.

“How���s your agency?”

A long conversation led to the two of you standing away from the bustle of the people in the crowds, in front of a large window overlooking the dark city, illuminated by the dull glow of apartment windows. One thing led to another and before you knew it you were casually chatting about the people you both knew and who had ended up in relationships.

“I had no idea they were together, that makes sense though.” Izuku said, chuckling slightly.

“Yup. Anyway, have you found a partner?”

“Oh! Uh- no, I haven’t.” He admitted, “I’ve been on a few uh- awkward dates here and there but they didn’t work out.”

He scratched the back of his head, averting his eyes from yours. He was a little ashamed to admit that he was struggling to get into a relationship, but it wasn’t that big of a deal to him. You smiled sympathetically, knowing he was a pretty awkward person and that wasn’t likely to change any time soon.

“You know…” You started, confidence spilling out of your mouth more than you’d like it to, “I used to have a crush on you in high school.”

“Wait really? I had no idea!” He said in surprise, face tinting red as the reality of your words set in. Sure it was a few years ago now, but his head was conjuring up ideas of what could have been, if only he had the courage to ask you out back then, “I felt the same way back then as well, it’s a shame we didn’t get closer than we were, huh?”

Despite trying to hide his sprawling thoughts with a calm and collected confession, Izuku merely came across as more nervous than before, stuttering a little as he told you. You noticed that people were rushing into the centre of the room for the countdown to midnight, when suddenly the wine in your system gave you an idea.

“Do you want to know who I have a crush on now?” You smiled mischievously stepping ever so slightly closer to him, “He’s a pro hero, name starts with ‘D’.”

“Is that so?” Izuku asked curiously, his heart skipping beats as you were suddenly very close in his proximity.

“… and it ends with e-k-u…” You whispered, listening as people began to count down from 30 as the clock ticked into the new year.

Izuku’s mind quickly processed what you had just said, blushing hard as the gap between your lips narrowed, meeting gently as the year rolled over into the next. The sounds of fireworks outside aligned with the sparks in his stomach as you kissed, his mind quieting for a moment. Your arm found its way around his neck, resting gently on his shoulder, his arm reaching around you to place a hand carefully on your lower back to pull you in closer. As your lips remained pressed against each other for just a moment longer before pulling away, eyes locking into a shared, delighted and surprised trance as cheers began to erupt from the crowd.

“Happy New Year!”

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

[gogobootz1]

The Mentor pt.3

Finnick Odair x Reader

Summary: A morning chat at the train station proves very revealing for you and Finnick.

Warnings: mention of forced prostitution and mild self-harm

part two | part four

The marble steps you sit on are practically ice, and the cold seeps quickly through your pants. The train station is entirely empty, and you sit outside of it looking out at the city.

Knees up to your chest, you take a deep breath. The roses you clutch in your icy fingers seem to taunt you, and once you look at them, you can't pull your eyes away. A beautiful gift belying your tragic fate.

You set all but one down beside you, then start to pick at its petals. Completely transfixed, you don't even hear the sounds of someone approaching until you drop the last petal.

"What'd you land on?"

The words break your focus, and you quickly gaze up to find who interrupted you. Finnick interprets your gaze as a confused one and elaborates, "Loves you/loves you not?"

That's not why you were picking the petals, but if you had been asking the flower, it would've been about him. The thought is embarrassing, so you give a half-hearted shrug and look away.

"Well, I got these for you," he holds out a small, far more rustic bouquet. Violets. "But it seems like someone's beaten me to the punch." What a cruel metaphor. Snow blocking your chances yet again. Standing in between you and a real life with real connections. Soon enough, you won't be real. What'll be left when you run out of choices you can make for yourself?

For now, you put the roses down anyway. The breath from your melancholy laugh is visible in the crisp morning air. "Thanks," you say, holding your hand out to accept the flowers. They remind you of home. A patch of them grew out in the field behind the house you grew up in. Your fingers brush over his as you accept the bouquet.

He jolts, "You're freezing!" Dropping down next to you on the steps, he removes the violets from your grasp and rests them in the small space between you. You follow the purple flowers with your eyes as he swiftly takes your hands in his own, attempting to warm them. "Do you purposefully torture your hands?"

You don't answer, still looking at the flowers he brought you. Finnick sighs, "You take such good care of Darla. Do you even bother looking after yourself?"

"What's the point?" Your heart hurts. As much as he hates it, he doesn't have a reply to that. He often wonders the same.

"How will you hold all the flowers you're collecting if your fingers freeze off?" He tries for lighthearted, but you wince. Instantly, he frowns. While typically, your replies to him are short, bordering on rude, they're always spirited. You seemed upset before he left you at the party last night, but now you seem disheveled. Like you hadn't had a wink of sleep.

Clearly, he's caught you in one of those moments. All the victors have them, but usually in private. He's not keen to leave you, though.

"Who gave you the roses?" He ventures, suddenly getting a sickening feeling. He's not expecting a real response, necessarily, but a 'wouldn't you like to know' would ease his anxiety.

You pick up the heavily perfumed flowers, "Oh, these? A gift, I suspect. I made someone very happy last night, and I'm sure I'll be doing it more often," you say bitterly before you toss them back down. Your voice comes out small, though, like you haven't built your armor thick enough to face this yet.

"From the office of the President?" It's not even a question. He already knows. Your face reveals your surprise. "I got a similar congratulatory present when I made my first deal." While he figured out that Snow had you in a similar position, it's clear you suspected nothing of the sort when it came to him. As you look into his eyes, he hopes you're getting what he's trying to convey. That the two of you are the same. And you can finally, finally, be honest.

"It was more of a negotiation," you nod, holding his eyes. "Not my first deal."

"I figured," he says.

You laugh sourly, "Is it easy to tell that I'm a cheap whore?"

"Don't sell yourself short," he scolds, "you're a very expensive whore." He almost worries it won't go over well when you snort and launch into the freest laugh he's heard in his life. Thank God someone appreciates his humor- Mags hates these jokes. He's got plenty more of them, and will definitely use them on you now that he knows they'll land.

"Thank you for the vote of confidence," you reply, tongue-in-cheek. Finnick can tell by your genuine grin, however, that you appreciated the joke.

"You're welcome," he nods, "You know, I've considered abandoning prostitution in favor of stand-up comedy."

Somehow your grin grows wider, "Really?"

"Really," he confirms, "I just have to perfect my material before I pitch it to the big man." You nod sagely, entertaining his bit. "He might just keel over in laughter," Finnick suggests.

You lean in a bit, "Think he'll keel over dead?"

"Here's hoping!" He leans in, too, sending you a flashy smile. You laugh again and look back out at the city. An amicable silence falls between the two of you, and you enjoy it a bit before breaking it.

"I met with him before the taping to tell him our deal was off. My nana died during Darla's games, so I thought he had nothing to hold over my head anymore. Then, at the party, our escort told me that Snow wanted everyone to get to know her. And when I saw her talking to-" you cut yourself off, but he understands. Some of them are too difficult to even think about. "I marched into his house and told him I'd take on twice the clients if it meant Darla would never see one." Finnick's breath catches in his throat for a second.

"So... a reminder of my renewed imprisonment," you pick the white roses up again and wave them sarcastically.

Finnick snatches them from your hands and launches them far across the steps with a firm throw. They scatter and tumble across the white marble. The action is so unexpected that another laugh bubbles out from you.

"I think you're incredibly brave," he declares, looking you right in the eye. "You might be the only victor worthy of the title."

"No," you're quick to insist. "That's Darla. She's earned her peace."

"You haven't stopped to think that you might've too?"

You shake your head, "But I haven't. I don't think I could ever atone for what I've done- no matter how hard I try." His brows furrow, finding your words worrisome.

Catching his look, you elaborate, "Every visit to Mrs. Montgomery's classroom, the parks I design, the gardens I dedicate, my broadcast segments- they're all born of guilt!" You admit, getting choked up, "It's my way of saying sorry. Sorry for fucking your husband, even though he paid to fuck me, and I wanted to die each time he did it. Sorry for being a plague upon the Earth, here's something to make it better. Sorry for-" You only notice you'd been aggressively scratching the back of your hand when Finnick grabs your wrist. It cuts off your rambling and prevents you from hurting yourself anymore.

"Why don't you talk to someone instead of torturing yourself?" He sounds pained.

“Who would I talk to?” You shrug, swiping at a stray tear. 

“That was… supposed to be an offer,” he winces.

“Oh?" you blink at him. 

“I’m really just a call away,” he nods, awkwardly rubbing the back of his head. 

“Right,” you say, still sounding a little unsure. You blink a few times, averting your gaze and thinking it over. 

“I know you think I’m gorgeous, but I’m sure it’ll be less of an obstacle for you over the phone,” he jokes. 

You turn toward him slowly, eyes wide, “she didn’t.” 

“She did,” he smirks at you. 

You hit him firmly in the gut, and he lets out a heavy breath as he curls inward. He’s glad you’re feeling up to your usual abrasiveness. 

You’ve already moved from your spot and are heading toward the station. He stumbles up after you. 

You stop suddenly. Not that you were really going anywhere. The train for Ten won’t leave without Darla and Darla is chronically late. He nearly runs right into your back, and you see him struggle to regain his balance as you whip around. 

He’s much closer than you thought, and you have to take a small step back. “What’s your number?” 

“What?” He asks, reeling from the near-collision. 

“How am I supposed to call if I don’t have your number?” You ask, and his eyebrows raise at the question. You totally skipped the ‘yes, thank you, what a great idea,’ part he’d been hoping for. But, he’ll take what he can get. He rattles off the number in an instant. 

“Are you going to remember that?” He asks. 

You nod noncommittally, “We’ll see.” The exasperated look on his face pulls another grin from you. He doesn't fight the smile off his face when he sees yours. 

A car door slam breaks your extended eye contact. The other District Ten mentor breezes right past you and Finnick, clearly annoyed at being up so early. You know him well enough to know he’s going right back to bed on this train. 

Darla, however, looks like hell-warmed over. “What the fuck happened to you?”

“Shhhhh,” she holds a finger to her lips, the other clutching her head. Your expression drops as you take in her appearance.

“Are you hungover?!” You try to steal her dark sunglasses, but she’s too quick. 

“Whatever, Mom,” she grumbles, “hurry up and kiss your boyfriend goodbye so we can leave.” She trudges further into the station, where a train is inevitably waiting for you. Your eyes go wide in embarrassment. 

“Darla!” You yell, and she winces at the noise. 

Finnick chuckles, “What happened to moderation?” She throws him the finger, earning further laughter. 

You shake your head at her behavior, and when you turn back to Finnick you find he’s already looking at you. “What?” 

“Nothing,” he shrugs, acting innocent. “Oh wait,” he snaps and doubles back to grab the flowers he arrived with. “You almost forgot these.”  

You shake your head at him, smiling, “Can’t have that can we?” 

“Safe travels,” he nods at you, turning to go. He makes it a few paces before you call out after him. 

“Finnick,” he quickly turns at the sound of his name. When you recite his number back a surprised grin lights up his features. “The uh- the phone works both ways, you know. I’m not a bad listener.” 

“Noted,” he nods, smiling. You smile back at him, a genuine one, and it makes you look younger. A loud call of your name from a train within the station makes the both of you laugh. 

“Bye, Finnick,” you smile at him, giving a cute little wave. He returns it readily.

And he thought he was in trouble before. 

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

@emerald-09

I also didn't really edit this one, but I think I like how it turned out? I'm not sure if I'll write more for this mini-universe since I have a few other Finnick ideas but we'll see

[receival]

baldur’s gate 3 starters.

the following is a collection of sentence starters from larian’s baldur’s gate 3. part 2.

look at me - i’m not a monster.

stay back. i don’t want to hurt you, but i will.

no. you’re not one of them at all.

i was ready to run you through. my mistake, friend.

that’s far enough. what’s your business down here?

you revealed our location? that tongue gets any looser, (name), and i’ll cut it out.

reckon i might miss this place.

this place is more dangerous than i thought.

well, don’t you cut a fine figure.

sometimes i’m jealous of that girl. ugh - to feel so invincible again.

in your expert opinion, what’s the best way to kill a devil?

i’m certain there are answers out there. we’ll find them together.

there’s no story. none that you’re entitled to hear, anyway.

you can tolerate a great deal of suffering, so long as it has meaning.

until then, all i can do is endure.

please try to understand that it’s not something i can just talk about freely.

perhaps there’s potential in you.

honestly, your faith is your own concern. i won’t judge, one way or the other.

i think i did well by joining you.

you already know my biggest secrets. what more can you ask?

that wall’s an illusion! hiding what, i wonder …

sun, moon, and stars will still be there, waiting for us.

this place is pretty spectacular, isn’t it?

no book or painting could ever do its strange beauty justice.

a perfect ring of mushrooms … nature, or magic?

hmm. i thought that might’ve done something.

another illusion. is anything real down here?

i’m more concerned with this ‘twit’ who set a spectator on you.

a rival - a mere footnote to my legend. you should be more concerned with who i am.

the fools must have turned back. or, better yet, died in the search.

i need no more rivals. try to take this as a compliment, yes?

this presence … this magic is not divine, but fey.

little? i am a god! and i’m gonna rip you - tear you - wear you for a hat -

don’t do anything hasty, now.

i’ll just kill you and claim it for myself.

i’m the lord of murder - i’ll show you why.

if you’re expecting me to drop to my knees before you, forget it.

a wizard’s tower is his sanctum, a private place for research and respite. but as this wizard’s not home … i say we take a peek.

a strange place for a button. especially one that doesn’t work.

what good would it do for me to be troubled? we can’t save them all.

you’ll have to speak slowly. i find it quite difficult to concentrate with my condition gnawing at my insides like a teething displacer kitten.

the whole village is falling to pieces …

hey, maybe we can scare up a few dusty bottles of wine somewhere.

i like your way of thinking. split any takings we find?

what creatures live in water this dark?

i’m a rabid dirty dog. and i bite.

i could’ve killed you before you even noticed me, but i didn’t. stand down.

i can be discreet. no need for bloodshed.

share? you really are in the wrong place.

a bleeding heart, are you? reckon i’ll just roast and eat it.

what in the hells did you do to that corpse?

you do plenty for me, more than you realize. but this cannot be remedied.

are you alright? is there anything i can do to help you?

enough. bickering won’t save your friend.

run away, then.

(name) - i was so worried! did they hurt you?

who cares? we’re together now, thank gods!

i’m grateful, don’t mistake me, but … why help us?

freeze it, cock-stench. we aren’t done just yet.

pay up, and you get to skink away. resist, and i gut you.

drop it. i don’t owe you anything.

your incompetence has been my ruin.

stop! no more innocents will die today, (name).

you care for the weak. most curious.

you so much as touch me, and i’ll tear you from limb to limb.

ah - another treacherous soul walks among us.

i ain’t going down easy.

you been a shit since i laid eyes on you, (name).

strike him down. prove your faith.

your silence speaks to your heresy.

look, you have no idea what you’re dealing with …

it’s the whole damn reason we’re here, and i’m not leaving without it.

the mission comes first.

and i thought i’d heard it all. that’s some cambion-level deception.

i go where there’s shit to stir. and there’s no shortage of options.

i can’t remember much, truth be told.

centuries of torment will do that to you.

you’ve been naughty. and you know what happens when you’re naughty.

just who in the nine hells are you?

well, well. aren’t you a luscious thing?

been a long time since someone stuck their neck out for me like that.

you have a manner of irresistible desperation about you. i like it.

you know, i’ve been thinking. and i think there’s something i should tell you. nothing big or terrible, just … a small little detail about me that hasn’t come up naturally.

i want to join you - to fight by your side.

i’m sorry for barging in like this, but i had to come find you.

i won’t let you down. i promise.

we all have our burdens, one way or the other.

i’m trying to say that you’ve earned my trust in a way very few ever have … i want that to mean something.

freedom - i’d forgotten how it felt. thank you.

if you have a moment, i’d like your opinion on something.

the problem is this: a preponderance of evidence that i am a terrible adventurer.

i can’t risk re-capture. i barely escaped last time.

it was a mistake. and not one we’ll repeat.

i don’t know. he was kind of fun.

we can’t just invite danger in to our hearth like that. we must be more careful.

most monsters will think twice before making a meal of me.

an old hunter’s trick - if you can’t mask your scent, spoil it.

i prefer a weapon to stench, thanks.

you’re a monster hunter? not what i imagined.

whatever you’re hunting, your stench alone will kill it.

a quick wit is rare indeed.

know how to ask, and they’ll share that knowledge. if you’re fool enough to pay their price.

speak plainly. what is she?

i think you’re mistaken - this place looks innocent enough.

truth is like a blade, my friend. we can arm ourselves with it - or just as easily find it pressed against our throat.

i would not put you in danger.

your coyness is getting boring. tell me.

you take insult where none is intended, my friend.

how thoroughly invigorating it is to stand by one’s friend in the face of danger.

you best have one hells of an apology for me.

you must have mistaken me for someone else.

that wriggler swimming in your brain juice is a bit of an inconvenience, isn’t it?

that’s none of your concern.

don’t change the subject.

keep that hole under your nose shut.

let’s not involve ourselves in this place any longer than is necessary.

you want to play the hero so badly? fine. let’s make this interesting.

gods, it’s hot in here.

i’ve had better days. and worse ones.

i am, after all, the villain of the tale.

you truly are a soul that steels my own.

you are as thick as they come.

even i am tired of the sound of my own voice.

i stand at a precipice, but if you do not give up hope, neither shall i.

all of this … it must feel like a betrayal.

you bastard! you ruined it, you ruined everything!

slow down - what did i do?

this is an interesting way of thanking me.

i don’t need this. good luck getting out of here on your own.

i know i should head home, but … i can’t bring myself to leave.

(are you alright?) / not even a little bit. but i will be.

she favored me like a child favors a captive pet.

i promise i will not betray your trust.

i cannot thank you enough.

you will face (name)’s judgement.

i wish you could have visited at a better time.

you had no right to intervene.

you’re not one of us.

copper for your thoughts?

always a delight to speak to you.

did i play games like this in my youth? was i sweet once?

what are you doing? i’m busy here!

nothing beats the taste of stolen beer.

come on, now. they’re just having a bit of fun.

let’s do what we have to do, then get out of here.

smell’s like burnt flesh.

hold out your arm so i can mark your flesh.

i’m here to spill your guts across the floor.

pain without purpose is a terrible thing, wouldn’t you agree?

i often feel i like raw pain too much. it scares me.

as long as the story ends in death, it’s all the same to me.

forgive me, but - that look in your eyes. something terrible has happened to you.

what i see in your eyes, in your soul, is only natural.

we’ve all suffered in these dark times. it is little wonder you hear scars of pain and anguish.

touch me and you’ll lose your hand.

the pain you suffer will cleanse you - do not fight it.

you look tired. should i take over?

welcome the pain. let it become part of you.

that looks like it’s going to bruise.

not that i’m suggesting we stop for a drink, of course.

i wouldn’t want to place all my faith in blind luck.

sympathies won’t help me to survive.

your life, much like your words, is meaningless. end the latter to save the former.

looks like the booze got the better of them. they’re practically unconscious.

they’re dying for me. all of them.

why don’t you take a closer look? i’ll observe from back here.

please don’t open the creepy book!

toddlers are easier to please than you lot.

you know, i never pictured myself as a hero.

all i want is a little fun. is that so much to ask?

having performance issues, (name)?

never have i met such troglodytes.

i was hoping you wouldn’t notice i was gone.

i suggest we admire it from afar.

it would be too much to hope that’s nothing to do with us, wouldn’t it?

i go my own way - alone.

i’ll feed your innards to the ants before i do that.

[navybrat817]

OMG NAVYYY HII HOW ARE YA😭😭😭 ever since i watched seb's scene in ghosted ive been so... well... there's no way to say this diplomatically but anyways it got me thinking- you know god spends a lot of time waiting.. for his targets or sum shit.. he must get... bored(wink wink) ya know??? so maybe sometimes his gf comes along with him.. to keep him company.. in that car😏😏😏 and i dont think i need to say anything else you can work ur magic✨✨✨

ANYWAYS BYE LOVE YOU ❤️

Not too bad, nonnie! Hope you're well and hope you enjoy this.

Gentle Sin

Pairing: God the Bounty Hunter x Female Reader Summary: You keep God company. Word Count: Over 1.05k Warnings: S/mut, c/ockwarming, p/ossessive behavior, talk of v/iolence, God the Bounty Hunter (he's a warning, okay?) A/N: Um. This was unexpected! Happy Sinday, lovelies? 🔥 Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. ❤️ Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

It wasn't unusual for God to hide in vehicles or other places to track and collect whatever criminal or individual he was responsible for. The private agent possessed a certain level of patience suited for his job. It didn't mean he always enjoyed waiting, even when the payoff was more than enough. Which is why you were only half surprised when you got a message to meet him in the back of some random car.

"Come keep my cock warm, Angel."

It wasn't a suggestion and his demands weren't something for you to ignore.

"You know one of the things I love about you? You act as if this isn't where you belong, but your pussy knows exactly who she belongs to."

Fucking traitor.

You breathed in and out slowly through your nose as two of his fingers slid across your tongue. He hardly spoke a word when you showed up in the darkened parking lot, both of you careful not to draw too much attention to yourselves as you shuffled around in the backseat. He didn't have to tell you to lose the panties. They were gone the moment he reached out. 

"Did you know there are two main reasons why it's painful for people to wait for things?" he asked, changing the subject.

Loves the sound of his own voice.

"Mmm," you replied, unable to say anything with his fingers pushing deeper into your mouth. What would he do if you bit them? You could figure that out another day.

"One reason is the unknown. They don't know what's coming and they can't stand it," he said, rolling his hips beneath you. Your warm pussy didn't seem to distract him from his mission, the gun in his other hand ready for him to use. "The other is dealing with something they don't want to deal with in the first place."

You moaned when he brought his mouth to your neck and dragged it along your skin, the light scratch from scruff bringing goosebumps to the surface. Every sound you made, every clench of your wet walls fueled his ego. The sin he carved into you was gentle in comparison to the wrath you knew he unleashed on others.

You were special in his eyes. 

"You think you know what's coming, Angel, but I have a surprise for you," he said as he removed his fingers.

"And what's that?" you asked, wondering if he planned on using his ring tonight. "Me coming on your cock and you coming inside me? Not much of a surprise."

Was it too much to admit you loved how he filled you to the brim? That you craved when he spilled hot and thick inside you and claimed every inch of you as his? But you carried power, too. Your cunt did wonders on this man and it was a weapon you enjoyed wielding.

He brought his wet fingers under your skirt with a grunt, seeking out your clit with an expert touch. You didn't have to see the smirk on his face when you arched your back to know it was there. It was a look engraved in your mind the moment he made you his. "That's not the unknown. We already knew the night would end like that because I always get you off."

Cocky bastard. I get you off, too.

"Then what is it?" you asked, whimpering as he teased your bundle of nerves. Your essence soaked the curls as the base of his cock at this point as he tapped the glass with the gun. 

"Your ex-boyfriend skipped bail," he answered, his voice softer and deeper than before. "I don't have to tell you his name and I better not hear you say it."

You managed not to shriek when he pinched your clit, a ripple of pleasured pain causing your toes to curl. You knew exactly who he was talking about and it was one of the reasons he was your ex. Funnily enough you'd end up with someone who is both worse and better. "God, is that why you wanted me here?"

He had no lesson to teach you because you did nothing wrong.

"Partially why. You'll worship no one else before me and I want you to remember that," he said, tapping the glass again like he wasn't playing you like a finely tuned instrument. You wanted to point out you didn't even know the bounty hunter when you dated your ex, but you bit your tongue. "And I have to wonder if I'll shoot my load into you before or after I shoot him."

Was he going to kill him for merely skipping bail? Wasn't he supposed to bring him in alive? Why did the thought scare you and turn you on?

You gripped his arm for purchase when your body began to shake. During one of his ramblings to you, he mentioned he attuned his senses to everything around him. The orgasms he pulled from you proved that and you understood where some of his confidence came from at least. He also knew how to keep you on the edge without sending you over. 

God, just let me finish. 

"My beautiful, wet angel. Does that get you off? Knowing I want to shoot someone just because they touched you?" he lightly taunted, pressing an affectionate kiss against your shoulder. "Wasn't the tune you sang when I shot your partner, but I changed that, didn't I?"

"Don't talk about him," you snapped.

"Still sore about me doing my job?"

You shut your mouth. You couldn't fault him for that, but it was bad enough you willingly slept with the guy who killed your partner. Would good sex ease your guilty conscience?

"Well, your ex has no idea what's going to happen and he doesn't want to face his crimes. Too fucking bad," he said, pulling his fingers away as you teetered on the edge. "And I want him to see what it's like for a god to take you apart. I want him to see you're mine now. Then I'll take him in. After shooting him for good measure."

He shoved his fingers back in your mouth before you could respond. 

"That's it. Taste your sin on my fingers. Plenty more where that came from before the night is through."

I couldn't help myself! Love and thanks for reading. 💙

Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[iamumbra195]

Ashlyn Spider-woman AUs are genuinely so funny because this girl would hate it so much.

She already has to deal with sensitive hearing now she has to worry about super strength, spider senses and sticky hands that only relax when she's calm which is like never because how on Earth is she supposed to calm down when she can punch through walls without breaking her arms and can practically sense everything within a mile-radius?!

The sensory overload would be painful as hell too.

If it was set in the canon universe, I think she'd tell her parents and they would all work together to figure out her powers. They'd probably use all the junk in the bus graveyard to gauge how much she could carry and how strong she was overall.

Over time, she'd probably get used to her powers, maybe even find some of them fun. Sticking to the ceiling and just chilling there for hours without all the blood rushing to her head was kinda nice and seeing her dad's reaction to her sticking to the ceiling for the first was entertaining. Plus, the powers made her even more flexible and she's into ballet. This girl would love being able to jump super high.

But she only really uses her powers at home where she feels like she doesn't need to hide it anymore. I don't think she'd feel the need to ever become a spider-woman. They'd managed just fine without her before and Alto was a pretty boring town. She wasn't a superhero anyway. I don't think her parents would ever want her to put herself in danger like that either. Plus, they don't their daughter to get attention from any unsavoury people or the government. They were both in the military after all. They knew how corrupt and messed up the government could be and they didn't want Ashlyn anywhere near it.

But then the new school year starts and there's a weird new kid that makes her senses prickle with unease. In fact, almost everything about her first day back at school makes her uneasy. The new kid. The shoe that almost took her head off. The new teacher. The field trip. The new kid.

Aiden just won't leave her alone and it was irritating. He was loud and talked too much as well. Still, her dad wanted her to give it a shot and it couldn't be that bad. It was just a field trip, she'd been to plenty of those.

Although the last field trip she went on was the reason she ended up with her superpowers... She really didn't want to go. Especially with Aiden constantly pestering her about it. Agreeing to go felt like losing. Urgh.

She ends up going and at first, it's not bad. All until a woman offers to give them a free tour of a 'haunted' house. Ashlyn doesn't want to go. Something about the whole situation was making her uneasy. But the others all wanted to go so she went with them. The uneasy feeling along with the phantom noises that kept getting louder made it even worse, sweat collecting in her palms and the urge to flee only getting stronger.

So when she sees that creature and the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end, she doesn't catch her reaction fast enough, hastily taking a few steps back.

"Ash?" Aiden said and there was a hint of concern in his voice. The others were all staring at her with varying looks on their faces, from concern to irritation. It wasn't real. She needed to calm down. It was just a hallucination. It wasn't real. It wasn't real.

But what if it was, the paranoid voice in her mind whispered. She had superpowers, who's to say that demons or ghosts couldn't be real?

She shook the thought away, tearing her eyes away from the creature and taking a deep breath before turning back to her classmates. She was being ridiculous. "Sorry, I thought I saw some-"

She was paralyzed in place when she saw them staring past her with terrified expressions, senses blaring with warning as a cold, slippery hand wrapped around her arm.

It was real.

And it was right behind her.

[bear-remn]

—Deadly eyes concept art v1 ₊ ⊹

Hi! I have been working on my content since i been very inspired and i already have art of my oc's in addition to the dibaboys' opinions about my girls! this is volume 1!

—KIRARI MASAMI ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧

—diaboy´s thoughts on kirari ୨୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

—shuu:

·:¨༺ while kirari was on drugs ༻¨:·

"such a weird woman, walking like a ghost and bothering me while a sleep.."

"terrible smell, i´d kill her if i could but its such a bother.."

"dont really care, not my problem.."

·:¨༺ when kirari recovers ༻¨:·

"a lewd woman, not good with words but her eyes and expresions tell me everything i need to know.."

"a little anoying, but i dont want her to stop anoying me.."

"kinda funny and mean when it comes to people she dosent like, basically hot.."

—reiji:

·:¨༺ while kirari was on drugs ༻¨:·

"bad blood and bad manners, such a case.."

"doesnt talk much, but when she open her mouth she only say´s strange thing´s.."

"why would that person send her if her blood is´nt good quality? and as a sacrificial bride?.."

·:¨༺ when kirari recovers ༻¨:·

"such a needy human, wanting me to hold her while she sleep... "

"even if she is´nt a worthy woman for me, in some ways she turn to be... what i never thought i´d crave..."

"maybe she is not teh worthy woman i always picture, but is enough to be by my side, taking my father´s place with her by my side.."

—ayato:

·:¨༺ while kirari was on drugs ༻¨:·

"yours truly doesnt care for a bad blooded woman.."

"ok? and?.."

"if i ignore her then she isnt here..."

·:¨༺ when kirari recovers ༻¨:·

"her blood is ok? but not really yours truly favorite.."

"she thinks is so cool just because she plays basketball and do boxing, she looks rediculous..."

"It's a little outrageous that Mako prefers the company of that woman intead of my company, yours truly is too good for her anyways.."

—kanato:

·:¨༺ while kirari was on drugs ༻¨:·

"who?..."

"such an unpleasant woman, teddy and i couldnt stand being around her.."

"the only good thing about that disgusthing woman are those eyes of her, shiny and clear... i dont have that kind of eyes in my collection hehe.."

·:¨༺ when kirari recovers ༻¨:·

"still, the only good thing are those eyes, her blood is too thick, not really my taste.."

"she spend too much time with reiji, i hope that when she dies, reiji let´s me take her eyes hehe.."

"she is´nt as anoying as i thought, rather quiet.."

—laito:

·:¨༺ while kirari was on drugs ༻¨:·

"she acts like an abandoned cat, trying to isolate herself from others and acting tough, but cying in silence at nigth.."

"the messier the better.."

"sadly, her blood is terrible and her attitude is boring, what a same.."

·:¨༺ when kirari recovers ༻¨:·

"reiji make her what she is now but, its odd that now they arent as close as before, funny right?.."

"i see her, how the others watch her as if we dont realize, they will not take her as they please, not that i care, but my big bro does.."

"kirari-chan doesnt make cutes faces as my pretty mako-chan, but i enjoy dessert.."

—subaru:

·:¨༺ while kirari was on drugs ༻¨:·

"the stink its unbreathable, her presence its disgusthing, she is disgusthing.."

"humans are so dumb, so sad and melancolic for no reason.."

"i dont care if she dies, as long as she doesnt make a mess.."

·:¨༺ when kirari recovers ༻¨:·

"she become emotionally dependent of shu and reiji, but none of them seems to be interested in what she really is.."

"she often hides in the plants but in silence, i appreciate the silence.."

"she doesnt try to kill herself anymore.."

.・。.・゜✭ bonus ✭・゜・。.・

—kirari

·:¨༺ while kirari was on drugs ༻¨:·

about shu

"fucking arrogant bitch, hope he choke´s on his own saliva.."

about reiji

"cool, control maniac but kinda cool? acts like a father and speaks funny.."

about ayato

"think he is a big deal but really is just a spoiled brat with a pretty face.."

about kanato

"please never touch me.."

about laito

"fucking weirdo, a little hot without the hat but too scary, he appears out of nowhere everytime and looks like he knows things, dark things.."

about subaru

"pretty boy but those anger issues, idk, too much anger inside one person.."

kirari opinion of the diaboys when she recovers its a secret hehe :p

.・。.・゜✭ ty! ✭・゜・。.・

hope you guys like it! mako comes in the next concep art volume post! if you have any suggestion tell me! i´d appreciate it!

btw the cover was inspired on @ausd art, go check her work it´s precious!

[spidey-x-male-reader]

first time requesting but like the thought of male! reader having a messy apartment/ bedroom for different reasons and miguel coming through m readers window to visit and when he sees that messy room, he spends a lot of time cleaning it and waits for m reader to get back and m reader is thankful and yet a little embarrassed

please I find this so adorable😭

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x male!reader

Warnings: tiny bit of swearing

A/N: Finally getting to this request! Sorry for taking so long. This piece was a constant battle of me trying to use the right tense and trying not to make the way the apartment is described too personal for me. I hope you like it!

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

MASTERLIST

Miguel knew a lot about you.

You are talented and capable even if you seem a bit goofy sometimes. You always do your best on missions. And you always do anything you can to protect the people around you and when you aren't able to do that you still go on, fighting every single day.

He would never admit it but he really is impressed by you.

However he considers changing that picture of you when he comes to visit you one day. You vaguely remember inviting him once, telling him that he can come over whenever he feels like it. But back then you probably didn’t think about the pure mess that was your apartment. 

When Miguel climbed in through your window, he first called your name, when you didn’t answer he assumed that you were probably out doing some chores, like the responsible person he thought you to be. But then he got a look at your apartment and for one second didn’t quite know what to do with himself.

Everywhere things were lying around, various clothes spread across the floor. And an impressive high amount of trash stood around on every flat surface, probably being placed there with a simple saying of “I will throw it out later with the rest”

Sure, for a second he didn’t know what to do, but he really couldn’t blame you at this point. You knew that, even if you love your job, and friends and missions, it was still stressful to maintain a healthy work to life balance, especially if your work constantly followed you around everywhere. 

But…even though he didn’t blame you for anything, he knew that you definitely could not keep living in this chaos. And considering he didn’t have any plans anyway, he started to clean, First all the trash out, then collecting the clothes that were lying around and putting them into laundry. When he realized you still weren't there after it looked pretty acceptable he even started to wipe down the surfaces until he eventually heard the front door open.

“What the fuck” you are standing in your doorway and immediately realize that something is off. Mostly that your shoes are now neatly standing against the wall instead of blocking off the hallway, making you trip over them every time you come in.

“(y/n), You’re back.” Miguel turns around to you as soon as you enter the living room. 

You’re not sure if you should first focus on the fact that Miguel was just sitting in your living room or the fact that your living room looks…clean.

“Miguel…what is this?”

“What is what?” he looks around but then seems to understand what you mean. “Oh yeah I came to visit you but realized that your apartment is a wreck so I decided to clean while you were gone.”

“Oh…” you hope that you weren’t blushing but are probably hopelessly failing. Not only has Miguel seen the chaos that was your apartment, but he has also decided to clean it while you were out. “That’s…thank you.”

“I mean it wasn’t really a lot. But I do have to tell you to please throw out your trash once in a while, okay? Because the amount of trash I had to carry outside was unreal. I had to walk multiple times.”

“You didn’t have to do that, you know?”

“I know. But you’re always working so hard and I was already here so I thought why not.” he shrugs like it wasn’t much of a deal.

“It is a lot. Believe me. Cleaning is…difficult for me” you try to explain yourself, hoping that Miguel wasn’t thinking you were always this messy. “Why did you even come here?”

“You offered me to come over if you wanted to. Parker started annoying so…I’m here now.”

“I’m not even going to question which one you mean and accept it. They’re all something to deal with.” you’re happy about the topic change. Everything is better than your apartment. “So I guess you’re here now. Want to watch a movie?”

“I’m not sure if I trust your movie taste.”

“Excuse me? My movie taste is great” you grin, moving to let yourself fall on the couch next to him, grabbing the remote. “How about…pirates of the–”

“Forget about it.”

[angellurgy2]

'SMARTBOY SPECTACLES'

new story! where a deeply indebted trap tries to cheat the house, and is forced to learn his lesson the hard way :)

rape cw

in the middle of a crowded floor, where gamblers and sex fiends bodies writhe against each other in movement from various games of chance, and the air fills with the noise of buzzing golden lights and loud clammoring. Salvage sits politely on top of a plush red stool. out of the corner of his eye he watches curiously as the patrons stream from table to table, while he halfheartedly throws some chips onto his own. the dealer throws him two cards, a 7 of diamonds and a king of hearts. he sighs, definitely not the best, but not the worst. he stands and the dealer deals himself his cards, busting with two face cards and a 3. salvage grins and collects his winnings. he didn’t even really see how many chips he threw in, but he struggles to carry the winnings inside just his two hands with how many there were.

his face warms with glee and he tosses the chips into his shoulderbag - NOT a purse - dashing into a lounge area before he rips off his ZOOM-OMATIC SMARTBOY SPECTACLES 300™. they worked!!! he struggles to not burst into laughter, his cheeks beginning to hurt from his own grin. if only these poor rich snobs knew he was cheating them right under their noses. he can barely believe it worked, but he saw those cards long before they were at the top and no one noticed shit! finally he’ll have a chance to make a dent in his debt- and then he wont have to be trapped in this purgatory anymore!

he uses the short space of privacy here to scruff up the collar of his leather overcoat and tug down the bottoms of his red crop so that it just covers his belly button and pull the crotch of his cargo shorts out of his junk.

he does the soft breathing exercises his therapist taught him the week prior, putting on his (literal) poker face and suavely striding back into the pit. it’s happy hour, so a decent amount of patrons have already poured out of the casino floor and into the nearby bar/lounges by the time he makes it on the scene. the dealers all look relieved to have less on their plate, which usually makes it the best time to play. he slides into another game of 21 and smiles at the dealer, “hey john.” he greets, short and to the point. its good to talk to them, since they all know his deal by now anyway, but too much and he cant be sure he wont let slip something suspicious by accident. he’s good at persuasion, but hiding a secret has never been his strong suit.

winning the next draws are easy. thanks to his SMARTBOY SPECTACLES™ and his better-than-average memory he can win while only half paying attention, giving him plenty of space to ogle all the hotties around him. though he has to make sure he loses every so often to not seem too suspicious. by the time he leaves the table, he feels like he’s won more than he has in months. one day of being a cheat and he’ll already be reaching back into the high life- it feels so good to finally have some assurance.

he mulls over what’s next. blackjack is easy winnings, but its also slow winnings, and worst of all - boring winnings. he spends some time sauntering around the various floors, until he stumbles upon a room where multiple poker games are being played. this is EXACTLY what he needs, more rich assholes to put in their place and more money to take.

he walks in confidently, eyeing up the potential competitors. most tables are full, but a few have a seat or two open. he ends up deciding on a table with one open seat, the rest filled with the crustiest of old men.

“you sure this table’s fit for you, kid?” one retorts. sal scowls. i’m literally 23, come on. the fucking privilege on these fossils.

“yeah, it’s just right.” he grins, sliding in and crossing his arms as he waits for the next round to begin.

despite the wait, he’s grateful to get some time to look up the ‘marks’, and he has to admit, a few of them look pretty damn hot. the rugged, masculine guys sorta faded in with the greyed out wrinkly dissociated guys from afar, but they could be definitely doing so much better than this joint. he’s not even that gay - he always felt a little weird about it, girls are so much easier?? - but he cant help but look when his new specs involuntraily give him a peek at what’s under their shirts.

he’s jolted out of his head by pressure on his shoulders, reminding him exactly where he is, and exactly why he can’t be bothering with physical desires. he nods and throws in the minimum bet and eagerly awaits his cards. an ace and a king, knowing before they reach his hands. the guy next to him, an older man in a dress shirt and tie, looks at his cards briefly and throws in a decent bet. if sal couldnt tell from the expression the man could barely hide, he can tell from the 4 of hearts and 7 of hearts staring right back at him. he raises the bet double.

the rounds go by quick, the bluffing man folds after the river shows a king and a ten, and other two join shortly after. him and 2 other guys get to a pretty tight finish, one of them having a 2 pair and the other having a three of a kind. but sal knows the river will end in his favour. the dealer throws down the last card, raises the bet once more, and wins handedly. he scrapes the chips to his front and gives them all an egotist grin.

one hand down, the rest of theirs to go.

it’s by the 5th game that something comes to stop his reign.

“Sally. Vance wants to see you. now.”

fuck. “cant you see i’m in the middle of something?” hate this asshole. i was just about to finish up here.

“he said now. i wouldnt make him wait.”

“fuck. fuck. fine.”

by the time he arrives back at his usual games, the atrium is crowded almost to full. he loses his sense of time utterly when he’s in play, no clue how long he was at that poker table, but it had to have been decently long if the post-work gamblers have arrived already. he scans over the floor managers looking for Vance. the senior of them all, and the asshole who watched over his debt and servitude. sal thought he wouldn’t have been here on the weekend, thought he’d probably be at home with his whore wife or something- but he thought wrong.

vance leans against the wall like a jock on a lightpole, donning his typical pristine checkered suit and slick black sunglasses. he thinks he’s so cool, just because he has power in this little pocket of space. its honestly pathetic. vances eyes dart up spotting him, and he whistles beckoning sal.

“whatcha been up to today, kid?” stay cool.

he shrugs, manifesting casual. “blackjack and poker, mostly.”

“that it?”

“yeah. been getting pretty lucky today, actually.”

“that so?” vance kicks his leg up, “cause’ i’ve heard you’ve been getting very lucky.”

sal shrugs again and looks away and vance steps closer to close the gap between them. he smells like cigarettes and some shitty strong cologne with a scent probably named something like ‘SPORTS DELUGE’.

“yeah man i just said that-” he stumbles backwards a step, he feels his heart drop in his chest and shouts shame at it in his head. “what gives??”

a heavily silence weighs down the oxygen around them. vance’s breath reeks, but it also overpowers.

he reaches a hand out to salvage’s cheek. sal tries to dodge backwards but vance moves it quick enough to grab his hair in retaliation. hand tight on the bottom of his pony, forced to look him dead in the eyes, right into his own mirrored reflection.

“c’mon sally, you know we don’t take kindly to cheats here-” he lowers his lips to sal’s ear, “you were supposed to be the example of that.”

sal tries to push him but his body is so blocky and his position is so firm that all it does is make an embarrassing thump.

“you want an assault charge too, sally?” the grip on his hair moves down to the back of the neck. he speaks quieter, looking around for prying eyes “i dont think you wanna see what’ll happen if we get that too”

“fuck off vance i’m not fucking cheating-” ringing shoots through his ears alongside a loud pop, red welters his cheek and vance looks down at him with the same happy-yet-still-scowling look as always.

sal can barely see through the blur and daze, and vance takes advantage. grabbing him by the collar and ripping them off the sides and into the middle of the floor, where everyone’s still gambling as if everything is of the ordinary. which it is, of course. who would ever care about what the managers are doing to some random guy? he’s probably just an unruly addict.

vance slams salvage’s back into a golden railing that outlines the table space, coursing pain up through his spinal. he’s never going to get his brains back at this rate. vance grabs his hair again, pulling it taught and shifting his other hand up sal’s side, and grabbing his waist, hard. sal bares his teeth in some sort of stupid attempt at looking confident.

“fuck. you.”

another slap leaves tears dribbling out of his plical and fading down his sweltering cheeks. vance’s filthy boney manhands continue dragging further down, until he’s groping sal’s ass through his shorts, grinning like an egotistical child, stealing another kid’s toys.

“get off me vance i didnt fucking cheat i was just trying to play leave me alone dont do this in front of all these people stop it please man cmon”

vance rips the glasses off of sal’s face.

he gives them a glance over, gaze looking deep into the where the little cameras are hidden. he looks up at sal, grins, and crushes them in his hand. sal almost bursts into tears. he payed so much to get those in his subscription- so deep in debt he had to take a loan out with a DIFFERENT shady entity, but it was supposed to be his one good chance at breaking at all- was supposed to save him.

now his dreams lay shattered at his feet.

he doesn’t even realize his shorts are at his ankles until vance’s hands are groping his taint thorugh his panties.

“fucking trap.” he mutters.

sal starts screaming in his head knowing he can’t make even more of a ruckus here. they’re just comfortable man i’m not a girl they’re just cozier okay god its not gay and so what shut up shut up shut up fuck!!!

two fingers wrap under the waistband, tugging. wait- wait no not here not in front of everyone not “here not here stop please vance don’t do this we can go to your office we can- just not like this please? please.” he can only make himself whimper.

and theyre at his feet too. his little- his dick flops out uselessly as they drop. he immediately notices eyes beginning to stare, some hungrily, some scowling, but none speaking.

“this won’t make the tiniest dent in your debt. but you’re already our property so, who cares right?”

vance grabs sal’s legs and pulls them over his shoulders. sal’s completely suspended now, if he tries to rip himself out or if vance moves too far back he’ll fall and hit his head on the hard wood floor. he looks down and just the foot or two of space between them and the ground is enough to make him lightheaded, terrified.

vance moves forward and spreads sal to the air. he cant look, but he can feel beady eyes staring it down, watching with glee as vance shoves himself inside, shamefully easy.

“do this often, huh girlie?” vance laughs heartily. sal dreams of stabbing a straight razor through his veiny ugly neck, watching the blood spurt out and coat him happily.

“kill yourself.”

sal feels so full, more than he ever has. he hasn’t taken a real dick since, what 2 years ago? back in his college ‘exploration’ phase. he mostly keeps it to the knotted and monster toys now, not that that makes it any less embarrassing as his hole easily and eagerly stretches to fit vance’s huge cock. he has to close his eyes once he sees his own harden in response to his enemy’s thrusts.

“y’know. you should probably talk nicer to the people who decide if you get to live here, or if you get sent to the kennel.”

“what?”

“ ‘wHaT’, do you really think that, the people who own the biggest casino company in the state, wouldn’t have other ‘ventures’?” vance’s smile finally seems to droop. but the thrusts only get harder, only force more pathetic self-hating squeaks out of salvage, choking his words into tattered paper.

“what- are- you- t-a-aalking about”

vance leans in closer, brushing a hand through salvage’s locks falling out of his ponytail. he feels pulsing, heat rising, the tip digging deeper into his guts then hes ever felt, and then hears vance grunting in deplorable satisfaction, voice glowing with pride.

“i’m saying we’re going to sell you, sally.”

[chainelunaire]

first date places

dabi

the roofs. he loves watching sky at any given time actually, he especially loves stargazing. when he was a kid, he had a telescope and about a hundred books about space, so til this day he's very invested. and another funny thing about him is that he still has that 'dude who was born rich' mentality, despite the fact that he lived on the streets for literally a decade. he wants everything to look like he hasn't tried (and he doesn't want to try) and he wants it to be literally perfect at the same time. so he goes for an obvious solution, being bringing you to watch stars together. it might be difficult to do in a such large city, but he knows places, and he knows a lot of them. he wants to show you the night city in all it's glory as well. he's a bit sentimental, so he shares a lot of stories of a particular places in which he lived - nothing in detail, just to entertain you. despite all his aloof demeanor, he's really proud of himself that he succeeded in impressing you. and if you're truly interested in astronomy as much as he is, then it's over for you, his nerdy ass won't shut up. it has it's pros: it's simply unfair how adorable he looks while telling you everything he knows about stars.

shigaraki

it's his bar for this very special occasion. he's very nervious and the fact that he already left his room is some heroic (pun unintended) shit for him. he needs somewhat comforting surroundings to collect himself better. i believe he's also a romantic at heart, so with help of the lov he'll decorate his place, so it'll be something really nice, not some messy area they usually live in. there will be music (in general he hates music, but he'll tolerate it just this once, because a, it's toga who plays guitar, b, it's for a mission (date)), there will be candles (he went through some real shit trying to steal scented ones and they smell bad anyway for his taste, and even yours), there will be an attempt at decent dinner (please don't eat it, your stomach will probably die). and however awkward it might look, with lov lurking in the background cheering you voth on, those awfully scented candles, somewhat nice music and tomura standing right in the middle of the chaos of this all, it still feels...genuinely nice? such a warm, fuzzy feeling, that you are so welcomed here. he really went out of his way to do this all for you.

hawks

congrats on pulling the hottest bitch in town, now good luck actually catching him for a date. the thing is, he's a second for a reason, he's booked and busy, going on missions saving people and so. the most foolproof plan here is to bring him on a date in his own apartment. it's difficult even like that, bc frankly, he's rarely there. he never had any desire to return here, tbh. it doesn't even look like someone lives in here, more like a hotel room, which is also pretty empty and dark. there's little to no furniture, some bed to sleep on, a couch, a table and a TV. very sad. so it's on you to make it cozier and it doesn't have to be much, not at all. he doesn't like fancy things in general, he just doesn't care. whatever you want to make with his place is fine by him. and he's not romantic at all actually, but he appreciates the effort you make to simply spend some time with him. it's a big deal for him, that someone is willing to spend their time not only to tidy up his place and all, but to actually do it for a date which is the direct invitation to spend more time with him. which means, someone really, really wants to spend this exact time with him. wild, don't you think? and this scene where you lit up all the candles you've brought and then sit right next to him, pulling a blanket over you both and asking which movie he chose in the end - that makes it for him.

[fleabagsjoy]

Ok so i just binge-watched Oniisama E (Dear Brother) and i have.... thoughts. And feelings.

(SPOILERS AHEAD!)

Not super eloquent ones, I don't have any type of degree or formal education on writing or media analysis, i'm just word vomiting what i think and feel without any sources or facts to back it up so i hope that's okay. And i feel like i should preface with the fact that i didn't actually watch the last four episodes because i dreaded having to sit through Kaoru and Mariko ending up with men idgaf about, and instead read a summary of those last four episodes on Wikipedia.

With that being said, i absolutely loved this anime, i had already watched Revolutionary Girl Utena and everyone who enjoyed that one was talking about this anime so i figured I'd give it a try too and i don't regret it at all. The characters, the setting, the ANIMATION, the main plot and subplots (some of which i enjoyed more than others), i enjoyed it all.

I don't want to point out the obvious about the ending, we all know. But i was prepared, went in with the mindset of completely ignoring eps 36-39, specially the "Real Love is Heterosexual Love" speech that it pulls in the last couple episodes, so i'm not that upset by it. I will say that putting "you will only know what true love is when you find a man for yourself" is some twisted, sexist and lesbophobic stuff to put in an anime where Nanako, Rei and Mariko canonically fall in love with girls and whoever came up with that will not be seeing the pearly gates of heaven. And if that wasn't enough, they had to make the girls end up with men because uuhhh i guess they have to! But anyways, i still read the summary of what happened in those last four episodes.

I read a review from 3 years ago by medivhtirisfal that mentioned this and i'm so glad i'm not the only one but this really reminds me of a series of books that i used to collect when i was younger about an all girls boarding school and all types of adventures and mischief they got up to (the St. Clare's series) and i guess part of me always craved more of that. Oniisama E scratched that itch i suppose, i'll always crave all female casts and to see interactions and relationships that form between them, all types of relationships really: sisterhood, platonic, romantic, sexual, healthy, toxic, simple, complex... women stories matter! And i love when they're the center and backbone of the plot.

Now back to the actual anime. I haven't read the manga yet, don't think i will for a while even though i do like the mangakas artstyle from the few panels i've seen. But like i mentioned, Oniisama E reminds me of those books i used to collect, it's a string of events that happen during the first school year at an all-girls academy of our main character Misonoo Nanako.

It was very satisfying to see Nanako be a bit more submissive when everything and everyone was new to her vs. becoming more confident in her decisions and standing up for herself and others she cares about later on. She was always very caring for others, but i do feel like she let herself be shoved around in the first few episodes so seeing her stand up for Rei against Fukiko and quit the Sorority because of her loyalty not just to Mariko, but to herself and her values, made her one of my favorite characters. Also who can't relate to falling in love with Rei... Asaka Rei was undoubtedly one of the reasons that got me to watch the anime.

I gotta prepare myself before i write a paragraph for her because wow... too much to unpack. I can't elaborate better than some other Asaka Rei understanders about the intricacies of witnessing her own mother take her life in front of her daughter, after telling her to protect and take care of Fumiko, and how that pressure of committing to her mother's final wish lead to Rei's confusion of feelings for her own sister, devoting her everything to her, even her life. I suspect never dealing with the loss of her mother properly is what lead to Rei's severe depression and inability to understand all types love and bonds that she could have with other people, seeing Fukiko as her beginning and end from that moment.

Needless to say that, as much as i wanted her to realize this and free herself from this torment so she could deal with her trauma properly, she had to do it by herself so she could gain some sense of self and build an identity outside of someone she worshiped for so long and SPECIALLY before getting into a relationship with anyone (r.i.p. nanakorei). She's the most tragic character in this story to me, all of this started at a very young age and she had no way to get out of it and when she got close to that, the plot decided to say NOPE. NO CHANCES OF A HAPPY ENDING FOR YOU. Bottom line is: she desperately needed therapy. Veeery early on.

I have to follow up with Ichinomiya Fukiko, a really toxic and abusive teenage girl with too much power over the other girls at school, she lives in a bubble built for incredibly rich people (as do many of the other characters), leader of the Sorority (an academy "elite club"). One of the best things about shoujo ai like this is that all female characters are so fleshed out and have so much to give to the viewers and Fukiko is no exception. I will say that i fail to see a character that has so much (negative) impact on most of the other main characters as she was very often abusing/taking advantage of/humiliating others.

It's definitely because of her upbringing but she always bottled up her feelings to keep up a façade of composure, with Nanako's constant defiance, after confronting her feelings for Henmi and her relationship with Rei, as well as after the abolition of the Sorority, we gradually got to see different sides of her. She's... complicated. Not an evil mastermind or anything, her attempts of sabotage seemed very desperate adn half-hearted, but she could still be very cruel and take advantage even of people she claimed to love. Still, Fukiko was one of the main driving forces of the story and i can always appreciate a character like that.

Of course that leads me to Orihara Kaoru! She is probably one of the most consistent characters in the anime, loyal, determined and resolute, very sure of where she stands, oh my god... i'd crush on her so hard too if i was one of the girls at the academy. I loved the relationship she had with Rei, the soulmateism was off the charts, they had an incredibly intimate bond that no one could replicate and, besides Nanako, i felt for her the most when Rei passed away. I'm pretty sure her having to face the past between her and Henmi was also a big part of her character but again, i really don't wanna witness how that ends so i'm not gonna elaborate too much on what happens in the last four episodes, which is unfortunate because i'm sure a lot of her own development as a character happens in those but whatever...

I didn't expect this when i started Oniisama e but Shinobu Mariko is my favorite character!! It took a while for her to grow on me but i love her a lot. Mariko is mostly known for the misandrist lines (which... real) and i appreciate that she never really changed that (until #those episodes but i won't consider them strictly canon for my sake), but she had such a great story arc with facing her loneliness and facing the problems she had with her parents. I'm no psychologist but BPD is heavily implied and from what i've seen by other fans with BPD, a lot of symptoms were shown throughout the anime, which i appreciate since Mariko wasn't villainized and was instead shown as someone with her own issues with boundaries and relationships at first but that she could manage and balance in a healthier way later on... it's not something you can easily see in anime, specially not from this time. I was really happy when Mariko, Nanako and Tomoko became a great friend trio who could rely on each other halfway through, another testament to her character development.

Tomoko was one of my favs as well! A lot of other characters were very interesting and had important moments in main characters arc like Misaki and Henmi. It's been a while since i've seen an older shoujo but the animation and editing was fascinating to me, very gorgeous, over the top sometimes but we need that! What happened to that! Anyways it's very beautiful, i appreciate it. The intro song will stick with me too and the damn Academy bell... Very melodramatic, but very fun, it's a hit for me!

I'm still grieving Rei so i can't really face anything that happened in eps 33-35. We're past making the lesbians suffer, NANAKO AND REI DESERVED THEIR DATE ON THE BEACH!!

I fear i will be upset by that for the time being but hey, that's what fanfiction is for.

[vibinginthedreamlands]

Another craft shirt painting! This one isn't an older one, admittedly. It's actually my newest. I spent a while working on the concept and hands and I'm rather proud of it, as well as just a really big fan of the source material.

Malevolent episode 43 chewed me up and then spat me back out so it's only fitting that I would have a collection of art ideas for it.

This one is based off of John's line when he's scared Arthur will truly and finally die: "Not like this."

Excuse the photo quality, I had to take it at a weird angle because of my light source.

Below the cut is just going to be a detail breakdown of it because I love symbolism and other such silliness.

So obviously we've got Arthur' heart, the thing that, if I'm being honest in my perception at least, John absolutely covets and in this image is attempting to protect. He's a little to late though.

Mostly! The Witches Rapier is going through the heart of the man he loves but if you see there are the other two items.

The one on the left is the speared tale of the creature in the Mines in the middle of season 3. John will not be in time to block this attack either but his hand still reaches out and is ready to provide aid and save his friend. (Some what representating the distance and disconnect between them in this season, after John's absence, Arthur's darkening morals, and John's greater lean toward personal morality.)

The one on the right is Kayne's dagger, the weapon Arthur used to try and kill himself with as to evade the King in Yellow. For this, John's hands are already around Arthur's heart (this being the same interaction where Arthur first admitted to loving John and therefore he has no need to yearn, for the man's heart is already his). In spite of this the dagger will either slip past his fingers or pierce through his flesh and still harm his friend, the same way John's sacrifice to the King did not negate the harm already done or that Arthur himself would inflict. But it matters. It matters that John defends him and in the end it will do him enough good that he survives long enough to broker a deal with the owner of that near fatal weapon.

The Rapier itself struck high and struck true, already having completed its gruesome deed long before John's hands even had a chance to move. And yet he reaches, hopes, strives to defend a dead man from harm even still.

Speaking of John's hands. There are two of them. This is obviously for piece symmatry but also I decided to personalize them as well.

I lean more toward the headcanon that John, if granted a physical body, would be POC.

For outlining the hands I used gold, *his* color as well as something that both compliments his skin tone and, imagery wise, contrasts against the slew of silver weapons leveled against them.

You, if anyone makes it down here, may have noticed that his pinky is an entirely different skin tone. That is correct and intentional! I've got a fun Lil headcanon that if John ever gets a body, specifically in some kind of ritual, he and Arthur would split ownership of their scars. So Arthur would have the cut on his throat as that was self inflicted, but John might have the gouge in his stomach because he was the one who sewed it up. With the pinky, Arthur wouldn't lose his wooden one, but because it happened *to* John, by Arthur, and as a shared decision, John's own pinky would be lighter, closer to scar tissue or Arthur's own skin color. This way they both have an off pinky in a way that matches, differs, and compliments.

Finally, I just picked the color yellow for his lettering. I thought about gold, because again, his color, but I didn't think it would stand out against the red enough (though the yellow might be a bit much itself lol). Additionally, because in 43 he tries to protect Arthur by calling up his KiY roots and the episode culminates in him accepting himself for who he is and wants to be, and allowing himself grace and full range of identity.

Anyways that's a lot for a 2" by 2" painting on a t-shirt but I enjoyed it and wanted to get the work and thoughts out there. If anyone made it this far, thanks! I hope you enjoyed my over analysis of my own work and thoughts on Harlan Guthrie's fabulous podcast lol.

I'll be painting more for sure and posting older pieces intermittently so there are going to be more of these in the world eventually.