#but I wanted to show off the fancy scales more fully

[reallyromealone]

Title: little god

Fandom: jjk

Characters: Gojo, Geto

Fic type: fluff

Pairings: -/-

Warnings: male reader, reader insert, dragon reader, child reader, fluff, god reader

Notes: uwuwuwuwu

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

(Name) Stretched his bones as he sunbathed in a garden he found, the dragon stretched out and his scales glimmered in the sunlight.

The lawn was soft, fancy grass that felt wonderful against his scales as he huffed sleepily, eyes blinking lazily and without a worry in the world as the ribbons in his little horns swished in the gentle breeze, the gold accessories on his head and horns jingling slightly with the wind chimes in the engawa a few feet away.

Dragons couldn't be seen by normal humans so (name) often made his way into gardens or sleeping on couches or chairs... Basically the little mythical reptile did as he pleased as he scratched his little whiskered face and sneezed a little and a flower bloomed where the golden dust hit, a single orchid grew up.

"Well you aren't a cursed spirit" a voice broke out and (name) looked up to see blue eyes and immediately the small cat sized dragon jumped up startled and ran behind a decorative rock "I take it you're the little one leaving tiny paw prints in my sand garden" the man was crouched as he smiled at the dragon who glared and grumbled at him, a little baby hiss.

Who was this?

Why was he seeing him?

(Name) Was only a toddler in human years, running on instinct as he got ready for a fight.

But the human seemed unphased.

Gojo cooed at the little guy, he knew there was something living in his garden but he never thought it would be a fortune god or a baby one at that "where's your mama little one" he asked sweetly and sat down as he grabbed the pieces of chicken he grabbed when he saw the little one lounging "want some chicken?" That got the little guys attention as he chirped, the sound of little chimes could be heard as he carefully walked towards the good smelling food and before Gojo could even blink the dragon took it and ran back behind the tree.

(Name) Sniffed the chicken he took and deemed it safe and began munching on the chicken, glancing at the human periodically to make sure he didn't take it.

"You're the one whose been sneaking around eating birds, probably the one eating my koi" he teased as he watched the dragon eat the chicken happily before coming back for more, batting his snoot against his hand "I got plenty of chicken and even some salmon inside if you want some" he offered the dragon who let himself be lifted up as he ate more chicken from the white haired human, very food driven indeed.

Gojo noticed a gold charm on the dragons forehead, (name), inscribed on it and the man hummed as they got more food for the little guy.

He loved watching (name), he was absolutely hilarious and precious!

(Name) Liked to do his own little thing, mainly fight his own shadow and chase bugs but he did his own thing regardless.

He had to show Geto!

"So you found a dragon..." Geto said as they watched (name) eat his new balanced diet, little face messy "you know he won't be a dragon fully forever right?" He said and Gojo shrugged "I'm his dad now, currently he eats raw chicken hearts and salmon but when he's bigger he can have tempura and rice" he said simply as (name) blinked up at them before trotting off "he does his own thing" Gojo said simply and Geto worried for Gojos... Could it even be seen as parenting?

He definitely had to keep an eye on this situation.

The following days went daily smooth as Gojo took time off to be with his new son, (name) having morning zoomies in the yard before breakfast and a nap, the sorcerer doing some work from home as the dragon slept in his lap, imprinting hard on him.

But the dragon would often wonder off, vanishing for periods of time before eventually returning and Gojo decided to follow him.

(Name) Was weirdly interested in under Gojos bed, the man had no clue why though until he looked under to find things from his jewelry to coins to soft blankets, all on top of the fluffy dog bed Gojo got his little buddy "there's my Rolex..." Gojo grumbled but let the little guy keep it, clearly he was very happy with it all.

Something Gojo noticed as well was he would have random coins in his pockets in pants, better hair days and he was feeling better and it wasn't until he saw his little... Son? Yeah son! Drop coins in his shoes and pockets and golden dust sprinkled on his mask after the dragon finished cuddling it "do you do have a bit of magic in ya" gojo lifted the dragon up whose hind legs curled up and his long tail curled between his legs, little head tilt before sneezing gold dust on his face.

"Gross"

Bling!

Setting (name) down he checked his phone to see that meeting he was planning on being late too was cancelled "why thank you, son" Gojo pet the dragons little head and chuckled when he aggressively kicked his leg and leaned in to the touch.

Gojo did his research, Jujutsu sorcerer's kept documentation on God's and such, wasn't the first time they saw one and won't be the last and realized he would need to be ready for when he stopped being a little dragon full time and quickly grabbed his laptop and ordered away.

Gojo set up a bedroom for his adoptive dragon son, a toddler bed and toys that the little one played with kind of.

The room had everything he could need and even got pull-ups in case the kid couldn't figure out toilets.

Should he get a nanny?

Maybe he should look into that... And a tutor... His kid was not cut for public education.

It wasn't until four months in that he got woken to a tiny little hand, eyes snapping open to see a tiny face with big (color) eyes and scales that framed bits of his cheeks and forehead "papa, breakfast!" He said impatiently and gojo realized that this random child was the dragon he took in, the tiny tail swishing at the boy wore traditional clothes lined with gold "yeah? And what does my son want today?" He teased as he got up and lifted the boy into his arms, blessed energy radiating off him like an eclipse "hot dog!"

"A hot dog for breakfast? Thats not breakfast!" It was weird how easy he fell into the role of dad, making his son eggs and hot dogs as compromise and the boy devoured it happily.

Gojo was thankful he had the forethought to get the boy more clothes though the tot leaned towards more traditional robes than anything and Gojo assumed it had something to do with being a god.

"Fancy clothes for my fancy son" he said as he had the seamstress he typically went to put together a bunch of robes for the boy, his little one was so cute!

Geto came by frequently, (name) plenty used to him as the boy ate fancy chicken nuggets as his tail swished lazily "why is he dressed like royalty?"

"Why do you dress like a monk?"

"Touche"

"You know you can't hide him from the elders forever right?" Geto worried for the boy, the elders were assholes who would exploit the fact that the little one was the literal god of fortune, having done some research to find that (name) goes through "rebirth" periods, once he gets too old he just reverses his age and starts new, he wondered if he retained his memories....

"I would love for them to try" Gojo said coldly, a smile on his face as he pat his sons head fondly, the boy grinning at his dad and offering him some of his half eaten nugget "papas full, little man" he rejected kindly and (name) resumed eating as the adults spoke.

(Name) Was just happy to have more meat, Gojo always having the best food especially for the literal only other Gojo family member (if you try to tell him (name) wasn't you would be turned to a fine mist by the blue eyed man) who looked at him like he hung the stars and painted the moon.

"Oh? What's up?" Gojo asked and Geto looked confused as (name) suddenly handed him a few coins "he just has those" Gojo shrugged and Geto raised an eyebrow "he keeps using his magic to summon coins, he keeps giving them to the fridge though..." (Name) Practically worshipped the fridge, the tiny god hugging it often and mumbling "chicken..." Happily as Gojo took pictures of the little goober.

"Though he has granted a wish" Gojo said softly as Geto looked shocked, looking back at the tot who was full and sleepy, a soggy nugget in his hand "what did he grant?" He asked curiously and Gojo sipped his tea "he saw something on tv, I was watching the news and there was a report on a missing dog and the man looked distressed" setting his cup down and taking off his glasses as he continued '(name) touched the tv and poof, the dog was running to his owner" Geto still couldn't grasp the fact that he was sitting before a literal god, the god of fortune no less.

A being that could completely alter reality but all he wanted was chicken and getting to chase birds.

Eventually Geto left and Gojo brought his son for his afternoon nap, a stuffed lucky cat in his arms as he snoozed.

It was weird for Gojo to sit and think about the fact he was a dad... To a fucking dragon god!

But it was worth it because (name) was odd yes, but he looked at Gojo like he was his dad.

It's why he used his standing to put together papers so (name) would be a Gojo legally.

Now he just had to make sure the Zenin clan didn't go near him.

[inspector-montoya-fox]

It's always really difficult to choose between An Opera of Fear and A Cold Alliance for my favourite Sly 3 episode, but it's safe to say that Flight of Fancy is easily the most nostalgic. Not because it's rooted in my childhood memories (it is) but in the sense that it shares elements with episodes from Sly 2 during a game which presents the gang at the peak of their career. Let's discuss

I think we can all agree that the series very effectively presents the gang's development, not only as individual characters, but also as a team of thieves. Sly 1 shows the gang as teens during their first set of adventures which sprout from Sly's desire for vengeance. They make many mistakes, they don't really have planned heists or jobs - Sly just casually goes into every level breaking shit and then faces off the big baddie - and they surpass their own expectations of themselves to defeat Clockwerk in the end. Then, Sly 2 covers a crucial point in the gang's career. It felt as if up until this point they hadn't truly fucked up so they went into it being very cocky, especially Sly. And when they got their asses handed to them by Neyla, getting separated tested their individual and collective limits.

In Sly 3, the gang has evolved to master thieves, capable enough to feel comfortable recruiting and as such mentoring strangers and also worthy enough to inherit an entire lineage's stolen loot. This is also shown in the missions, which up in scale and spectacle. It's no longer just "follow this villain" or "pickpocket this person". It's a combination of missions we grew accustomed to during Sly 2 like "follow Octavio and do recon under time pressure", or something completely new. Right off the bat, for example, we send a ferris wheel rolling across Venice squashing guards in its way, like this is just a mission not Thunderbeak or something. Every Sly 3 mission evolves explosions, high-tech and the eventual mini boss-fight.

So it's then a bit surprising to see the gang reverting to their sneakier, more subtle ways during Flight of Fancy. That's not to say we don't have explosions and thrill in the episode (the dogfights, Muggshot vs Carmelita, wolf-riding, shooting literal fucking windmills into blimps), but the way they choose to sabotage the competition due to how delicate its internal politics are creates some nostalgia. Paddling around the sewers in a blow-up rowboat and breaking into the pilots' rooms is very Sly 2. It felt like something 18 year old Sly would do. Also, scaling the Baron's castle harks back to Sly 1's platforming and is reminiscent of how small Sly would seem when approaching a villain's daunting lair.

The design choices for the Netherlands seem primitive too, enhanced by the fact that we're in the countryside. I feel like there's that Sly 1 and 2 rule of thumb at play here, where Sucker Punch chose the aesthetic or genre first and then chose the location. For example, they wanted a spooky level in Sly 2 so they chose Prague which would accommodate the genre through its architecture and gothic character. That allowed them to exaggerate a lot in terms of level design. And it's the same for Flight of Fancy, where we have a spooky castle on top of a very cartoony hill and you can hide under haystacks. Oppositely, the rest of the game's levels seem to have departed from the previous entries' design principle (except Kaine Island, which is fully fictional). It feels as if SP chose Venice and wanted to play up how European it is, or the wilderness of the Australian outback but without any radical stylistic choices. The genres are explored through the narrative, not through design.

Lastly, let's close off with some Thieves in Time slander because it wouldn't be a signature me tumblr essay without it. If we really use the entirety of our brain power and manage to look past all of the game's bullshit, one additional flaw would be how it doesn't consider the gang's development when telling its story. I'm not saying that in the series' fourth game the gang should have been infallible or indestructible due to achieving master thief status in Sly 3, but here the mistakes they make feel so unnecessarily stupid and like shit they wouldn't have done even in Sly 1. Falling for Penelope's schtick twice; Sly letting his guard down during the Le Paradox boss fight after the Contessa; whatever the fuck went down in Arabia... yea.

[nailsinwales]

Dodgy Nail Products with Industry Support in 2023

I was kindly given a free subscription to a magazine that I used to ensure religiously arrived to me each month to help my career in the beauty industry.

Glorious professional nail storage company Roo Beauty had closed its internet ordering doors for the final time in 2022, and their parting gift was the magazine I would usually receive whilst working the job I once loved.

It was sad to hear that Roo were closing, they had the only decent storage solutions and their nail polish bottle rolls were something that the majority of my clients wanted in their lives.. and not just mine and their fillings every few weeks or so.

I have received four editions of Scratch mag so far, and in the last few weeks about fifteen emails regarding Scratch Stars and their nail competition themes, lovely, but what I also received was an email promoting (insert gel Polish product name here) - a product which towards the end of my old business in 2018 was quickly becoming known amongst pro nail technician’s as something that was causing clients natural nail plate and natural nails to separate away from each other on a rapid scale.

People were mentioning it constantly so I decided to trial this product myself along with another popular gel that was circulating on social media as a gorgeous looking subscription box. The latter did come across as a non pro product, I mean it was sent with little packets of fizzer sweets and pom poms, the owner tried to rip me off photography fees and lied to a magazine about her paid advertisement, but the range meant that a way cheaper alternative could be offered to clients who fancied something from their social media feeds, more affordable, and well really, bin’able, since most colours were in tiny 7ml bottles, and some not always available. Trends are just that, they pass quickly. It was a bit like the Primark of Gel Polish, only really shit with dreadful end results.

Soon after my trial, I experienced exactly what others had been reporting with the nail separation between the nail bed and the natural nail plate on my toes. I was devastated. It took almost a year to recover from it and plenty of sunshine on my feet, even though I newly wanted to keep them covered from the world.

“These products are not professional products, and not supported by the industry as so”. - that is what I thought back then. I had faith that the popularity of these social media trending products would go on to cause so much damage in a short space of time that they would be banned.

Fast forward to 2023, a chance browsing of my old nails account in youtube had the algorithm throw me up a video showing what had been happening to peoples nails, multiple snap shots with damage after using the very same products, going a couple of years back to recently. That’s between 2018, and now, 2023.. and just a small section of people out of all of the potentials in the world.

The problem here is that in the Nail Technicians world, it is similar to other trades - a poor technician might blame her tools, although in this game there is space on the market for poor quality tools today, and there are tools that harm. What is supa bad about this is that clients will be blamed, and nail technicians will be blamed, when the thing that is actually at fault is the dodgy product. The product is not being held accountable for the harm done.

If there is one thing that I enjoyed most about my job it was explaining to clients how I have products in my nail case that were well known, had been fully tested for the market and had transparent MSDS with no unknown or untested ingredients in the mix. I paid premium for training and products, and passed these on to all of the lovely people who booked me. It gave me confidence in my work and that confidence was passed on to my clients, returning to me tenfold on repeat business and word of mouth bookings. It was a beautiful thing.

If today’s nail technician can be promoted towards such a poorly performing product through trusted sources like a professional nails magazine, products that will go on to harm a clients nails, trust in the industry, and potentially leave them for life with a nail allergy (and that bit is both client and tech), then what hope does the industry even have?

For years it has been argued that Nail Technicians in the UK should be regulated. At the moment, the industry has gone down a murky road where, based on their social media clout, the introduction of some fairly nasty products has clouded what was once a fairly easy product arena to manage.

God help everybody’s nails in future, except for me. I got away lightly and will never dip my toe into the dodgy nail gel side of things ever again. I hope that anyone reading this will consider that being a nail technician is one thing, but we should never be supplied products that harm people.

If you know a product has harmed others, either through your own use or by seeing other peoples reviews, think twice before providing it on your price list. It could take you down with it.

Sending love to all, Rachel @nailsinwales

Some (but not all) trusted nail brands,

EzFlow, OPI, CND, Mavala, INM, Essie, Crystal Nails, Nail Artists Academy, Mystic Nails,

[covecornerarchive]

selfshippinglover asked:

How about general hcs for the villains?

Aw yee!

This won't be all the ones I have for them, just some off the top of my head. Also keep in mind these might include some stuff that are more in line with my own adaptation I'm working on, so they might contradict some of the info in the wiki

Horace Horrible:

- During most of season 1, he is just the most eccentric, bat shit man you'll ever meet. Very high energy nearly 24/7 and little volume control.

- For the first few episodes he and the Rubber Fishes crew are the main villains of the show, and most of their antics include robbing other pirate crews, beating the Laughingstock crew to treasure, kidnapping Janice for ransom, and sometimes just finding ways to mess with the protagonists and make their day considerably worse for the heck of it.

- On the antagonist scale, he falls in the team rocket category if that makes any sense, at least during the beginning of season 1. He's still villainous, and a considerable threat to the protagonists, but in a more comical, theatrical sense to where he's more fun than threatening to the audience.

- A running gag in the show is that he comes up with just....the most crazy, unnecessarily complicated schemes that don't really make a whole lot of sense.

- While he does really play up the whole "evil pirate who cares for no one and just wants power," shtick, and while a good portion of it's really how he is, he does show moments of genuinely caring for others, mainly to his crew and sometimes skin-taker in some cases.

- He's short, somewhere around 5 foot 4 inches, and while he's not insecure about it, he does where shoes adjacent to plat-former's to seem more intimidating. Despite this I always draw him as if he's 3 inches tall-

- He wasn't always a pirate, despite what he says about his life long dream to have always been "to become the greatest and most feared pirate to sail the seas." He actually used to be a street magician before he saw what the life of a pirate was like, decided "oh this fucks!" on jumped onto that instead.

- Personality wise I see him being similar to something like Cesare from Big Top Burger.

- Dude is actually really flamboyant and dresses pretty fancy. Over the course of the show he wears a series of different over the top outfits.

- Scruffy man

- While he makes threats and does some pretty villainous stuff in the beginning, before Skin-taker came along it's hard to see him as...100% malicious, if that makes any sense. Like, he's still evil, but you never get the sense he's seriously trying to kill anyone or ruin lives in any way. It's heavily implied when first summoning skin-taker for aid after a series of losses against the laughingstock he wasn't fully aware of all the horrors that'd come with it.

- However, over the course of the series after Skin-taker is summoned, we do begin to see Horace becoming more malicious himself.

Skin-taker:

- Yeaaaaaah big bad man lets goooo!!

- When Skin-taker first appears all he has is his worn and slightly tattered hat and cape. However, not only does his cape grow longer over the course of the show, but by the finale he has a full outfit made from skin (skin suit if you will).

- My version of Skin-taker does not fully remember his time as Thade Soben by the time the main series begins as he lost most of those memories along with his mind. He'll have small moments of remembering every now and again, but they're jumbled, few and far between, and afterwards he's just "lol that was weird, anyways-"

- This is actually @candlecovewiki's head cannon: Skin-taker (and Thade) actually has an association with butterflies. Through out the show, there are times where a black butterfly can be seen on screen, usually moments before he appears or something relating to death or danger occurs to one of the characters, and butterfly imagery can be seen if looked for in places associated with him. This is because butterflies often symbolize death or rebirth. It's been noticed that Janice seems to have an association with them as well, as she has a butterfly hair clip.

- there are so many parallels between skin-taker and janice in both their characters and arcs through out the show its not even funny-

- Skin-taker is genuinely creepy and very intimidating, but like, he doesn't try to be. Don't get me wrong, he's 100% aware how he scares people and often uses that to his advantage, but in most cases he's not consciously trying to horrify people, he's just naturally like that.

- He's either very polite, and well spoke with just enough of a bad vibe that you're not quite sure if he's threatening you or genuinely trying to be friendly, or a complete eldritch cryptid who will brutally steal your knee caps no questions asked.

- After Skin-taker comes to candle cove, the show's writing, specifically in regards to the other characters, begins to gain more depth and delve into far more darker elements. It's not that every thing is one dimensional before that, but everything really does get a lot more complicated after he shows up.

- Despite literally being the main villain, he's the only one who never has cursed. Instead he opts to make up silly words to substitute (and it has a worse affect anyways).

- He has a sword that looks like a far bigger version of a skinning knife, and is made up of mostly bone.

- Skin-taker can just summon shit out of thin hair. He never carries anything on him he just reaches behind his back and boom, pulls out a sword, where the hell did he get it???

- He can't read a room for the life of him. He never knows how to respond to other's emotions and when it comes to tone he doesn't initially recognize sarcasm and tends to take most things literally.

- Despite that he actually really likes puns and riddles.

- He has really weird out of nowhere moments where he's just...nice??? And they're in regards to the oddest stuff you'd never suspect??? Like, a part of why he's so unnerving is you never know if he's about to brutally murder you and your loved ones or invite you to tea (or both). It's not known if this behavior is intentional in order to keep his enemies on their toes or if since he doesn't see his killings as wrong he just thinks he's acting completely normal.

- An example of this is how he's completely fine with attacking the laughingstock crew on any day other than a crew members birthday because hey c'mon he's evil but that's just mean (except Poppy, he remembers Poppy's birthday so he can SPECIFICALLY attack on that day).

- Plays the viola

- Can do stuff like detach his dead and limbs and them remaining fully functioning while so.

- Has this thing where if you're pretty nice and are just doing your best he'll actually remain fairly courteous towards you (I mean, he'll still want to kill you, no sympathy for the living and all), but if you're a jackass you die faster.

- Is the only one who knows what a meme is.

- no regards for personal space.

Red Mary-

- Red Mary is the only other character besides Skin-taker who directly addresses the audience. She hardly does it as frequently, only in the prequel books, and seems to hold more animosity towards them, implying those watching at home are just as bad as her, as they do nothing but watch her drag characters they "love" through hell for entertainment.

- Only character to still address Skin-taker as Thade (he haaaaates it).

- Red Mary keeps her motives fairly cryptid, but it seems as though she's furious that humans, beings who are weak and live such short lives, get to inhabit a beautiful world, while powerful abyssians like her have been forced to reside in the abyssal kingdom, a void when compared to the latter. She claims she wants to "burn the world and make a new from the ashes," so that only she and others as powerful as her can reside in it "as they deserve."

- In my version she actually joins the Tarantula Crew a while after Thade, and instead of Thade recognizing her as a prisoner from Tartarus, he does so because she was the cause of the burning of his past crews ship, him being the only one to get out (something I might go more into in the future when I explain my own adaptation).

- She seems to join the crew because she catches wind onto the fact they're hunting for a powerful artifact (her subject for betrayal), and because she recognizes Thade as the powerful necromancer she let go from the ship she had burned then.

- Her relationship with Thade before the betrayal was....weird to say the least??? Before revealing her true colors she was deceptively sweet and charismatic, and always seemed to make a point to be kind and make friends with Thade especially. She did this because she realized how powerful he was and wanted to eventually convince him to betray the crew with her when she did so. Buuut Thade was kind of creeped out by how overly nice she was so it never worked.

- She also fucking loathes him because how despite being wielder of one of the most rare and powerful magics (necromancy), he doesn't want to use it or get more powerful, and is perfectly content with "throwing it all away," so he could just spend time with the Tarantula crew (people who wouldn't even live as long as a fraction of his own life).

- She actually believes she did him a favor with taking it all away and causing him to become skin-taker.

- She old. Around 200 while Skin-taker is around 100.

- She just becomes more eldritch and unrecognizable as human as her quest goes on and her magic becomes more powerful. It's pretty grotesque actually.

- Much like how Thade/ Skin-taker is associated with butterfly imagery, she's associated with crow imagery. This may be due to many different folk lore including a connection between crows and the creation, or at least element, of fire. One of which being the tale of Prometheus, whose liver was pecked out by crows every day as punishment fro giving the gift of fire to man, a myth Red Mary actually references during her time with the Tarantula Crew.

- The fire that comes from her magic can't be put out by natural means, and anything it alights is cursed to burn forever, even in death. Only someone with water oriented magic can put her fires out.

- After she burned the Tarantula ship, she just took it for herself. Legend says if you see this ghostly ship, on fire yet still sailing, and captained by the devil herself, you will die in your next battle at sea (news flash, that battle is probably with her because when she sees anything in her path her only thought is "MAIM KILL DESTROY")

- shaaaaarp teeth

- Feels nothing for humans and less powerful abyssians, just viewing them as either insects, or short lived amusements.

(October 14, 2021)

[bozo-boy]

a retrospective of my art of 2022

i love that you can tell what i’m hyperfixating on judging by the art. more detailed explanations below the cut!

january

i started off 2022 with a redraw of a piece from april of 2021. for christmas of last year, i got an ipad and apple pencil, so this was largely me exploring procreate and the feel of a new way of drawing. there’s a lot about this one that i still like, particular chat noirs cute lil face, but there’s so much i would do differently now that i’m more comfortable with the medium.

february

i was still finding my footing with this one. i was really into fnaf, and naturally, monty. the shine on the ass was using one of the in-app stamp brushes, which was quite fun to play with. honestly, going back, i would just add more depth and complexity to this one. i stand by the bones of this one.

march

this one was done so i could have a fancy new pfp. to be completely honest, i’m not a fan of this one. it’s a redraw of a screenshot from the show itself, and even at the time i was unsatisfied with how this turned out. in retrospect, i would’ve started the sketch small and then scaled it up so it would look a bit more,, normal. i find my art comes out much better when i start small.

april

this drawing is for a worldbuilding project i like to work on when i’m not obsessed with anything else at the time. in this world, there’s a city with a whole festival for phoenixes, and a legend involving a raven falling in love with the sun, but i won’t get into that right now. if i’m remembering correctly, one of my references for this one was a swallow. i still like the way the sun shines through the feathers and the more painterly style. i still stand by this one 100%.

may

oh boy may. this was when my apple pencil broke, and lined up with me getting into sonic, after watching the movie. one of my friends sent me a picrew, birthing this little nameless character. i’m still quite happy with this one, i think i got the style really good while still making it a little bit my own. my short lived sonic hyperfixation is still visible in the way i draw eyes while sketching, which i think it pretty neat. i wonder if, had my apple pencil not broken, i would’ve gotten more into the franchise.

june

AHHHHHH. sorry, this is from when i got back into a set of my ocs, affectionately dubbed “the sin boyz”. they’re all based on the seven deadly sins, and this is asmodeus, embodiment of lust. he’s definitely the most fun to draw because of him being quite high energy, and i’d love to come back to these characters once again. i don’t have much to say about the drawing itself, other than still liking how cartoony it is.

july

i’m not entirely sure what sparked this, but i got really back into the arcana, a game which i’ve been into for years now. this little fella is my character for the game, named zephyr! this piece is actually based on a sketch from i think a few months earlier. i still like this one, with his cute little face. i adore how his eyes turned out, and i’d love to try returning to that style, even just to experiment.

august

this is actually a reference photo for zephyr, but i wanted to fully render it to try to demonstrate some of the fabric textures. i still adore just about everything about this, aside from how his face turned out. i’ve always struggled a little with placing eyebrows too close to the hairline, dating back to my art from when i was like,, 12, where the eyebrows would actually float above the head. aside from that, i still love this.

september

when i made this, i was actually rereading lucio’s route (i’m obsessed with it in a train-wreck way) and found the imagery of the player investigating his abandoned room super compelling. the background from this is actually from the game itself, which is something i had never done before. i even slightly edited the background the reflect some of his magical light! this one is much less colourful and saturated than my other stuff, and i have mixed feelings about it. still though, i’m proud of it, and i think this style of lighting is reflected in what i make today, even if the colours are out of my comfort zone.

october

this is probably one of my favourite pieces of ghost fanart i’ve made. the lighting is a little unpolished in relation to the smoke, but i couldn’t care less cause i just think it looks so freaking cool. i was directly inspired by mummy dust, both in the vision in my head when he growls “duuuuustl, but also in the green stage lighting when it’s performed on stage. i love how swirly the smoke looks, and even now, i’m obsessed with drawing characters lit from below. it’s one of my favourite things i’ve ever made.

november

so uh,, i was a very passionate voter in the american music awards, and the news of ghosts win was so wonderful. i, like many others, was and still am obsessed with the outfit tobias forge wore, and found it super inspiring. i was really worried about this one, cause i basically never draw real people and really wanted it to actually look like him while still being my art style, and i think i did pretty good. this was also new for me because it has two light sources! this presented a really fun challenge and i’m still so proud of this, aside from the lighting on the glass part of the award itself. also, three.

december

i got a new apple pencil for christmas! i immediately had to make something with it and the wonderful pressure sensitivity. i was mostly just playing around with this one, and doing back i’d change a few things, even if it’s only from a few days ago. nonetheless, i had a lot of fun here and really like the colours.

summary

oh boy i sure did draw this year! i think i’ve improved a lot, specifically in shading and rendering. i went outside of my comfort zone a lot with lighting, like things with multiple light sources and coloured light. next year, i wanna go outside of my comfort zone in different ways, particularly with things like backgrounds and character interactions. if you’ve read this far, i hope you enjoyed my self-analysis, and i hope 2023 brings you joy!

[britt-kageryuu]

Arrived at Destination!

Next part of the convention series

First | Next

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

They finally made it to the hotel near the convention center.

A nice little place run by some Yokai, but still accommodated humans, thankfully had parking space for the tank.

And after some frustration with the reservation not showing up, "Ha-Ma-To! I made this reservation with the Official Site. Not a third party!" They got to the rooms to put down their luggage before going to check in with the convention staff.

The new broaches magic was pulling alot of weight since it was shrinking Raphs 7ft+ bulk down to his height as a teen, though still built like an American Football Lineman. Which was necessary for this venture, because there is no way he'd be able to navigate as easy.

They got their badges, found where their booth in the Dealers Hall would be, then went to retrieve their tables and the first group of boxes to set up. Along with the Dragons bringing the tech for a new set up at the booth.

Mikey and CJ broke off from them to get set up in the Artist Alley, since their set up was going to be a smaller scale. Though it would still take them a good bit of time to figure out how they were going to set up the display. Make it stand out a bit more than the other tables next to them.

Back in the Dealers Hall, the group were spacing out the tables in their booth first, then the Dragons set up a corner with a Holo Screen that they will be taking turns with meet and greets with. Hopefully not cause a traffic jam.

The Donnie handed the others a planned layout of how they want VTurtles! merch to be placed. Plus making a small area for the Caffeinated Turtle stuff.

Some of the other vendors came over to talk, mostly curious since they haven't seen them before.

"We work for Genius Built, the merch is for the small VTuber group they own." Donnie calmly answers fully calculating what to say, "The group wasn't officially invited so we just have this small set up. Though we don't fully know how many of their fans will be at this event."

One of the other vendors looks at what was being set up, "Wow, you guys got some fancy coffee, and these characters are kinda cool. Why turtles though?" They ask.

Leo looks up at the curious asker, "Their family apparently sees turtles as some kind of luck charm. Though that luck swings wildly from what we heard about them." Leo says while setting up a small muti tier stand with the sample acrylics and plushies, "Something about them needing to travel for a family emergency. Only to learn the 'emergency' was just an argument of different views."

April let out a laugh, "Yeah, they were so annoyed, had a nice trip though."

"Wait, they all had to go?" One person asked.

"Well they have a unique situation where the group is actually 4 Siblings, who stumbled into the VTubing thing. Said it was just a side gig." April answers back while sending a text to Raph and Cass on what to bring next, and what to leave for later.

There was some more calm trading of information, Donnie learning about some of the usual repeat vendors, local celebrities and some rumors that were floating around surrounding the industry vendors there.

Then after the setup was to their liking, the group decided to walk around the hall. Check out the possible food options, look out for certain merch they would grab later, and talk to some more vendors about the Convention in general.

They even took a detour into the Artist Alley to check on Mikey and CJ. After looking around a bit more the group left to get food. Preferably not in the convention center.

"$15 for a slice of pizza half the size of a personal size pizza?"

"Well the Food Trucks are not much better."

Before heading back to the hotel, and get the Drones ready for the next day. It had been a pain in the tail end to get permission to have them at the con, but after getting a deal to help with some Live Streams, the staff allowed them in.

With a lot of waver signing to say it wasn't the Conventions fault if anything happened to the robots.

The drones were very excited, especially since they were fitted with their new hover gear.

There was some last minute talks over food, about the schedules for the meet and greets, along with checking that all the Socials had the correct information on it.

"Here's to a great event, and hopefully no drama!"

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

Masterpost

As I said in the first I still don't fully know where this is going, and I don't quite know how to approach this. So critique and suggestions are welcome.

[fenriael]

Priest of Sun and Flame

[ellsbclls]

you write hurt/comfort so beautifully, it makes me want to have tom comfort me like that ): do u think you could write something where he's taking care of you after a long day at work?? and if it's a little nsfw i wouldn't mind but u dont have to do anything ur not comfortable with. again L O V E ur work!!

thank you so much 🥺 i guess i just try to portray a type of love i think everyone deserves! but also thank you for giving me this idea because my mind went rampant. i also don’t know why the reader is a musician, but just roll with it i guess idk what happened there??? 

i hope this tickles your fancy! nsfw, so extended warnings will be under the cut! please do not interact if you're a minor!!

extended warnings: cue fingering, and some messy, needy sex in the bathtub 🛁✨

The steam rising from the bathtub makes light work of your weary muscles, menthol vapors kissing up your spine, soothing the knots scattered across the length of your back. You were in dire need of this, after the plight of a day you’d endured. A couple of hours in the studio had quickly spiraled into a six hour-session, with nothing to show for it but a lousy sixteen measures of brass ensembles — and by the good grace of your talent and patience, the artist has requested you drop in for their session again.

The thought makes you want to drown.

Instead, you opt to curl into yourself, softly pressing your cheek into your knee, watching the spindles of warmth waft up from your well earned bubble bath. In retrospect, the weight of your day didn’t fall solely on this new client — if you’re being honest, they actually had a lot of potential. You wouldn’t mind having your name tethered to a couple of their hits — but Tom had just returned home from a three month long shoot, and you’ve only been graced the luxury of his presence for less than 24 hours. Any time that isn’t being spent with him feels blasphemous, but since he has yet to return from his unknown whereabouts, you seized the opportunity to flush out as much irritability as possible before he returned.

You didn’t know just how tired you were until you were woken up.

A half an hour passes before you’re tousled from your dreamless slumber by a docile touch, familiar digits scaling the curve of your spine before they take a detour at the nape of your neck, carefully parting stray strands of hair to either side of your frame.

“Tom?” You hum, dulcet tones wafting through the steam akin to a dream as it ebbs from the rim of your subconscious.

“Yes, darling?” He muses, entranced by the frothy remnants of your bath soak as he dips his fingertips into the water.

“I missed you today.” You melt into his touch, allowing your head to fall to the side and survey his attire. His hair is all tousled, chestnut locks sprouting from the bottom of his backwards strewn baseball cap, and those honey-dipped hues you adore so much are creased with concern. You want nothing more than to soothe them away with the pad of your thumb, and so you indulge yourself, reaching over the edge of the tub as you continue to ramble. “I started the day already praying for it to be over with, and somehow, every single inconvenience fathomable decided to fall onto my lap. I mean — who the fuck needs seven different french horn tracks in an overture? A real band barely needs one.” Tom’s nodding along to your ramblings, but you both know that he doesn’t fully under the lengths of your frustration — just as you’ll never truly understand the inner workings of his own career. “The only thing keeping me together was the thought of coming home to you.”

“I’m so sorry, my love,” He coos, and continues to caress your back, working out all of the knots that the steam couldn’t relieve. “If it’s any consolation, I was only running late because I had to stop and buy some pancetta on the way home.”

“Don’t apologize. I assumed you would be back since all your stuff is still here.” You tease, mirroring his bemused smile, letting his world seep into your slowly booting brain. “Pancetta…” Not many people knew this, not even Tom before his first attempt, but the boy could whip up a mean bowl of pasta. You remember floundering across the bed the night before, identical to a little kid throwing a tantrum, moaning over just how badly you were craving carbonara. Silly of you to think that he’d take your melodramatic request in stride. “Are you-“

His enamored gaze is answer enough, but he pairs it with a chaste kiss to your forehead that has you nuzzling into his touch. “Only the best for my lil’ lady.”

You show a mere fraction of your appreciation with a swift, flurry of kisses over his cheekbones, pulling him closer by the downy bundles of his hoodie. Lovedrunk giggles and contented sighs bounce off the tiles before you’re both submerged in a comfortable silence, one that leaves the both of you free to shamelessly examine the other, one clad in their comfy, weatherworn disguise while the other dawns nothing but an enchanted smile. Even with the disparity between your attire, you both end up with flushed cheeks and dopey grins.

Hours, days, years seem to press on until you break the silence with a silly question, one that you ask in hopes of hearing his gentle, candied voice once more — or even better, his laugh. “What would you do if I was as big as a thumbtack? Would you still love me?” You query, a childlike sense of wonderment tinting your sugar-coated sigh.

He takes a second to ponder your questions, taking it into far more consideration than you had in bringing it to fruition. You can’t stifle the tiny puff of air that leaves your lips, the semblance of a chuckle, and Tom, with his wild brow and theatrical ways, whips his head in your direction, sending you a cautionary glare. “I suppose I would…” He starts, only to tap his finger against his bottom lip, drawing the suspense to its boiling point by the time you shove his forearm. “But then again, it doesn’t matter what size you are, there’s no limit to how much I love you.”

“Hmm,” you manage to vocalize. Your heart is now a star, an incandescent ball of fire caged beneath your ribs, and if he hasn’t gathered it by now, then he can bask in the warmth of your smile and know that for him, for him it is the sun.

You have to admit that you got ahead of yourself. One moment, you were binding your lips in a bruising, indulgent union, urging him to bask in the lovelorn rays of light he summoned, but only managing to pull him into the bathtub, fully clothed and unsuspecting. What was once your lukewarm oasis is suddenly a swirling cauldron of spearmint, teatree, and now unmistakable notes of him, sloshing against the edge of the tub as his frame struggles against the latent tide. There’s bound to be one hell of a mess waiting on the bathroom floor, but now that he’s settled in your grasp, you see no reason to fret just yet.

“Y/N.” His voice is deadpan, which can mean one of two things — he’s either overwhelmed with joy, or exhibiting a great deal of restraint in not drowning you right then and there. You choose to cancel out the latter, and offer the best attempt at innocence your babydoll eyes could muster, peering at him through your lashes with a teeth-rotting gleam.

“What?” You ask simply. His eye starts to twitch, and you only double down on your facade. “I just wanted to be closer to you.” Wading through the newly shallow body of water, half of its contents now dispersed across the tile floor, you make light work of his soggy hoodie, sloughing it over his head as he grumbles beneath it, giggling when it catches against that razor-sharp jawline of his.

“Well, you are very close now.” You notice how his voice drops down an octave, and you’re embarrassed to admit just how quickly the coil in your stomach tightens at the sound of it, how it already aches to be pulled taut. 

Tom seems unsuspecting enough when he captures your lips once again, his brims as delicate as baby’s breath against your own, tentative as they glide in a sultry dance. He doesn’t need to coax a confession out of you, the truth is already there, nestled in your urgent, needy pressure, in the whimpers threatening to spill into his lips. He’ll indulge in this little game for a moment longer — where you pretend that you aren’t desperate for his touch, and he pretends that he isn’t just as desperate to provide it — but once you fumble into his lap, clumsily grasping for more, and more, and even more of him, his resolve begins to crumble.

“I need you.” you whisper into the hollow of his mouth, golden-tongued and virtually earnest, coaxing a trembling sigh from the back of his throat.

He hums back, contented, basking in the intoxicating warmth of your silhouette, tracing the curve of your breasts with his knuckles. “Long day, my love?”

“Mhmm,” You demonstrate your point with a wistful sigh,  enveloping his great hands with your smaller ones, coating them in languid kisses until there was no skin left untouched.

You’re just too fucking cute, he muses. He can never say no to you, not even in jest.

Two of his slender digits roam the valley of your stomach, knuckles ghosting over your navel in their listless descent before they venture between your thighs, surveying just how badly you really need him. He dips his middle finger between your folds, tender and slick with your arousal, and emits a husky groan as he traces a steady line between your entrance and the spot just below your clit, ghosting your little bundle of nerves with each taunting caress. “You’re already soaked, my love. This all for me?” He coos, nudging your jaw with the tip of his nose, pressing a wet, open mouthed kiss against the column of your neck.

“All for you,” You sigh, digging your nails into the broad planes of his shoulder. “Please, Tom, please touch me.”

He finally spares you, thumb sloppily circling your clit as he plunges two digits into your opening, welcoming the lithe intrusion with a warm, velvety embrace. You slump into his embrace, nipples straining hard against the soaked fabric of his t-shirt, and raggedly whimper as he starts to work you open. The reminder of your nude form plastered against his clothes, albeit soaking wet, summons another pool of wetness to your core. You’re flooded with thoughts of delectable anguish — of denim kissing your hips, dragging against your bundle of nerves, as he ravages your bare little cunt, proving that you’re so desperate for his cock that you can barely wait for him to undress.

“Is this all you needed, baby? My fingers? You wanted me to stretch this pretty little cunt out?” He can’t stop the filthy words tumbling from his lips, especially not when your tiny mewls of pleasure are flooding his ears — you’re just so soft and pliant under his touch, so eager to be filled to the brim, it’s intoxicating to know that you’ll take anything he has to offer you. “I’ve got you, baby. I’m gonna give you everything you need. Gonna have you spilling all over my fingers and then — fuck! — then i’m gonna fill you up with my cock. How does that sound?

“Y-yeah,” You’re rutting against his palm at this point, grinding down to meet each thrust, to feel impossibly closer, fuller, ambling toward an orgasm that is already barreling toward you. As he finds a new angle, the pads of his fingers nudge against your g-spot, and the heel of his hand careens over your clit with such a delicious pressure that your thighs begin to quake. “‘M so close.” You whine, prompting him to punctuate each thrust with a curl of his fingers, dragging your orgasm from the pit of your stomach.

“Then let go, baby. Let go for me.” You need no further persuasion, your eyes squeezing shut as you teeter off the edge, with nothing but a raspy, desperate string of obscenities, clawing at the slope of his shoulders, and bathing his hand in sultry waves of nectar as it spills from your weepy little hole. His fingers are trapped between your fluttering walls, working you through your climax with nimble, tentative thrusts, stretching each wave of pleasure out until you’re trembling over little ripples.

“That’s it, that’s my girl.” You feel so small beneath his gaze, teeming with endless pools of adoration, like you’re a freshwater clearing and he’s parched. It nearly distracts you from his fingers as they slip from your opening, but each receding wave of bliss is tethered to him, so you groan at the loss of contact. Your walls flutter hopelessly around nothing, chasing the delicious stretch of his digits in their absence, but you’re instantly qualmed by the sound of his zipper being pulled down, no doubt freeing himself from the waterlogged confines of his jeans.

“Can I?” You sink your hands into what little water still remains in the tub, hooking your fingers through the belt loops of his jeans, but he swats your shaky hands away, adamantly shaking his head as a small frown of confusion forms between your brows. “You don’t wanna take ‘em off?”

“This is about you, my love.” He whispers, his free hand smoothing over the small of your back, stroking the patch of dew-ridden skin with his thumb. “And right now, all I wanna do is keep my promise.”

“You’re so good to me,” You whisper just above his lips, leaning back into his touch, peering between your bodies to survey his ministrations. You’re still a bit dazed from your first, earth-shattering orgasm, but the prospect of another has you buzzing with excitement, and Tom knows that look well enough to speed up his course of action.

Pearly veneers sink into the swell of your bottom lip at the mere sight — his cock is beyond compare. Even as its impatiently pulled through the opening of his jeans, it’s put on a mouth-watering display as he leisurely pumps himself, smearing tiny pearls of precum across his flushed, leaky tip with each upstroke. He’s far too enticing, far too pretty with his rosy cheeked, droopy-eyed charm, to resist, and you’re quick to replace his hand with your own, curling your fingers around the base and mimicking a couple teasing pumps before guiding him to your entrance.

Tom spreads his legs a little wider to accommodate you, the sensation of wet denim rubbing against your thighs, knocking your legs farther apart, causes a soft whimper to fall from your lips. It doesn’t take long for you to align the head of his cock with your entrance, teasing him with a couple of lascivious drags through your folds before you sink onto his length, reigniting the remnants of your last orgasm as inch after delicious inch prods your tender walls apart. By the time he bottoms out, you’re nothing but a trembling pile of limbs, and his lips seek out your own just to muffle your staggered breaths with a burning kiss.

You allow yourself a couple of seconds to adjust — no matter how or which way you take him, he still pushes up every crevice of your insides, demanding every square inch of your velvety heat. A wild flurry of crimson blossoms across the high planes of your cheeks as Tom nuzzles his forehead against your own, brushing his nose against yours, coaxing a melodious string of giggles from your chest while you scrunch up your nose. He presses a chaste kiss to the corner of your lips and smiles against the spot. “You look so pretty like this, my love. With that gorgeous smile of yours, and that pretty little pussy squeezing my cock.” You feel like you’ve got whiplash, trying to come to terms with how obscene he can be under such tender movements. “Just wanna turn you over and bury myself inside. See how tight you feel when you’re folded in half.” His hands reach down to rub gentle, circular motions into the small of your back, and you can’t help but pulse around him at the juxtaposition.

Once the uncomfortable stretch of his girth melts into pleasure, you finally start to work yourself over his length, and you swear you can feel every gorgeous ridge and vein of his cock as you rise up to the tip, only to plunge back down with a impish yelp, setting a clumsy, needy pace that certainly gets the job done. You don’t really find your rhythm until Tom helps you out, sinking his fingers into the supple curve of your ass, orchestrating a hard, punishing pace as he drives up into your sopping cunt, meeting you in the middle with each thrust.

All at once, the bathroom is washed in a crude symphony, the combination of your heavy panting and slapping skin intermingles with the shallow splash of water as it laps against the edge of the tub, punctuating the sinful drag of his length, and how the tip pounds against your furthest wall as you impale yourself onto him. You can feel another orgasm start to build, and since Tom has made it his solemn vow to not only study, but master, every little, scrumptious detail of your body, he senses it as well. 

“You got another one for me?” He asks between labored pants. His own orgasm is starting to peak over the horizon, following in the blazing trail you’ve set, you can tell by the way a thin sheen of sweat starts to build against his hairline, and his brows almost meet in the middle, as if the feeling of your pussy pulsing around his cock is unfathomable. He uses the grip he has on your waist to take control, using one hand to scale up the breadth of your back, and as his palms leave a blistering trail up, up, up your sides, he pulls you flush against his chest, attempting to plant his feet against the floor of the bathtub, 

He needs the leverage to piston his hips up into your own, to pound into your greedy hole at an unyielding pace — to keep his promise — and as you start to feel the tell tale edge of your climax cresting over your weary frame, you spoil his shoulder with sweeping, butterfly kisses and flood his mind with sweet, sweet nothings, luring him to the brink with the same dulcet tones you know drive him wild.

His hips stutter into your own, and before the words can even exit your lips, you’re dragged to the edge of bliss with a couple of rough, uncompromising thrusts that have you wildly spasming around his length. He joins you almost immediately, throbbing against your sensitive walls as he fills you to the brim, driving the mixture of your arousal further into you as he fucks you through your orgasm. 

Once he pulls out, he’s quick to wrap you up in a soothing embrace, planting kisses over every acre of skin he can get his lips on, but you’re too focused on the trail of cum leaking down your thighs to really indulge him, curiosity getting the better of you as you gently weave your arm between your bodies and collect the wetness on your thighs. You swear you can feel the rumble of his chest once you pop your fingers into your mouth, humming around the sodden digits, making a spectacle out of the addicting elixir pooling on your tongue, but his glimmer of reinvigorated stamina is put to rest by the sight of your drowsy, half-lidded stare.

“Why don’t we get you dried off? Then I can start dinner.” He hums against your cheek, punctuating his suggestion with yet another chaste kiss. It’s genuinely like he can’t get enough, and neither can you as you sleepily nod.

“Will you wake me up when it’s ready?” You sigh, teetering on the edge of slumber once more.

“Of course, my love.”

[flickeringart]

Neptune in aspect with Mars

(Read my post about Sun and Moon aspecting Neptune and Mercury and Venus aspecting Neptune)

These planets aspecting each other makes for a curious connection, because in a sense, they represent opposing principles; Mars represents the personal drive and the ability to spring to action, the force that works to impose one’s independent will on the world – Neptune represents the inner urge for emotional unity and the religious/spiritual experience of being merged with the source of life. When these planets are in aspect in the natal chart, the personal ability to carry out one’s will is inextricably linked to redemptive longings. Simply put, Mars-Neptune individuals will put their energy into fulfilling the ego ideal, the perfection of potential that existed before the personality began to form. The personality cannot assert itself in a way that would crush the dream of perfection. Neptune is the dream of purity, the undifferentiated beauty of never having left the garden of Eden. Mars on the other hand is the agent of independence and self-motivated action – he has the purpose of fighting for the individual self which is antithetical to the Neptunian principle of surrender. While the Moon and Venus are quite social; the Moon represents nurturing and care-taking of needs, Venus represents the ability to be loving, affectionate and gracious; Mars is selfish and to a certain extent anti-social – most definitely anti-Eden and its eternal bliss. Subsequently, Neptune paired with Venus or the Moon is a little less of an obvious conflict than Neptune paired with Mars.

The conjunction of Neptune-Mars might cause considerable frustration and unconscious manipulation, because one cannot assert oneself, which is to declare separation, without feeling a deep sense of guilt and shame. It’s a little bit like the Bible story of Adam and Eve eating of the forbidden fruit and immediately becomes aware of sin. This is certainly not an easy phenomenon to deal with. The impulse to avoid accountability for one’s actions can be overwhelming, even if the consequences are perceived to be good. There can be a tremendously inflated sense of righteousness accompanying every move the individual takes because deep down there’s the feeling that one has committed a terrible trespass, that one will be unable to atone for. While the softer aspects, the trine and the sextile, more easily lend themselves to genuine selfless acts and natural inclination to fight on behalf of every bleeding heart and soul in the world through acts of sympathy and kindness, the conjunction usually brings more troubles. There can be an overwhelming feeling of having to do certain things because one cannot stand the idea of being separate from other people. One finds it easy to identify as the martyr or victim, unwilling to take radical responsibility for one’s actions – or if one does it’s in order to self-sacrifice. Often the individual will adopt any ideology that promotes the mass before the individual – often socialism or marxism fits the bill. Neptune is symbolic of undifferentiated reality, blurred edges and passive surrender. It’s not a planet that promotes autonomy and individuation. Not uncommonly, decisions and actions are referred to as byproducts of societal or larger-scale units that have little to do with the poor self. These individuals are usually profoundly dissatisfied with the ways of society because on some level they believe that individual autonomy and agency is a sin – and that the only way to redeem oneself and humanity is through some kind of chaotic dissolution of difference. This urge is seldom conscious, but it is there none the less. Vladimir Lenin had this conjunction and he wanted to revolutionize society to fit the marxist ideology, but really what this means is to overthrow the upper class – to punish those that seem to revel in the delights of Eden, to get rid of the internal shame of being excluded from paradise.

It seems like Neptune-Mars shows up in individuals with the capacity to move a crowd, perhaps most importantly, with the capacity to be the front figure and leader of the masses. Vladimir Lenin certainly affected the masses and so did Napoleon I with the same conjunction. Hassan II of Morocco, known to be one of the most severe rulers widely accused of authoritarian practices and abuses of civil rights had this conjunction as well. These examples are far removed from Neptune’s reputation for denoting empathy, soft-heartedness and sensitivity. However, it might be precisely because of the refusal to abandon the hope of the sweet sweet nectar of paradise that can only truly be accessed in a state of pre-birth if even then, that the outrage is so total. Most children scream when they are born, and this is probably the kind of terrible rage caused by separation that lingers in these people. The sign the conjunction falls in will certainly affect the expression the energies filter through – Lenin had the conjunction in Aries, Hassan had it in Leo and Napoleon had it in Virgo. Virgo is a much more analytical and practical sign than the prideful fire signs of Aries and Leo – consequently Napoleon is famous for his fine skill for method and strategy in war. On his Wikipedia page, it states that Napoleon had a hypnotic effect on people and could bend the strongest leaders to his will in one-on-one conversations. Hypnosis is a marked Neptunian phenomenon. What happens is that the person is able to gently infiltrate the other person’s will – which is quite extraordinary. If someone is receptive and open enough to suggestion, the opportunity and the invitation is there to mold the other through unconscious communion. Since there’s no obvious forcing taking place under hypnosis, the hypnotized person must cooperate on some level – yet it’s not a conscious cooperation which is why the whole phenomena of hypnosis is so unnerving. In general, people would like to think that they are in complete control of themselves, but it’s more of a fancy fantasy rather than an actual reality. We don’t know what we are receptive to and Neptune reminds us of this. He seeps through the most tightly shut doors.

(Buy products with my art)

My own family is quite Neptune dominated and what often happens is that I feel subtly manipulated, yet the manipulation is never fully conscious on the part of the individuals so it becomes difficult to confront them. The times I have, they either take offense or seem genuinely perplexed. It is impossible to confront Neptune, because he works underneath the surface, below the threshold of consciousness. When confronted these types are deeply disturbed that they could’ve imposed something on someone – they either go into a introspective mood, become appalled or proclaim their love and sympathy in an attempt to restore union. My mother has Mars in the 12th house and although it’s not aspecting Neptune, Mars is placed in the house pertaining to this planet and she has Neptune in her 1st house. She never gets angry but people around her certainly do. She is eternally understanding of everyone else’s anger and has acceptance for it, yet she doesn’t respond to any of it on a personal level. She apologizes every time something upsets her. She is never aggressive, yet she does instill subtle guilt through little cues and hints every now and then because it is a sin to have a will that does not align with the crowd that one finds oneself in. Sometimes, when things aren’t the way she wants to see them she doesn’t see them. She presumes that on the most basic level, all people want the same thing, which is probably true on a “soul level”, but sometimes it doesn’t translate to everyday matters. People’s personalities contradict each other and this is no trivial matter – people can and do clash because of individual differences and it can be detrimental to one or all of the individuals involved. However, Neptune doesn’t like to see a clash as a clash – that would be to treat it as a definite fact, which would contradict the fluidity of oceanic union. The frustratingly passive statement “It’s everyone’s fault” or “It’s everyone’s responsibility” is the attempt to not deal with cause and effect while establishing the fact that some abstract common force is always at work. This is neither true nor false but this attitude conveniently keeps everyone “unified” and dependent upon each other.

Admittedly I went with the most gruesome examples when writing about the conjunction, but it goes without saying that not all people with this aspect is going to be a Lenin type – Ryan Gosling, Avril Lavinge and Timothé Chalamet all have this conjunction and they’re all quite popular entertainers in their own ways – they move the masses on some level. Ryan Gosling has a Pisces Rising so his chart ruler is Neptune which makes it particularly strong. He gives off that pure hearted watery eyed look that is extremely mesmerizing to the public – he portrays himself as sweet and compassionate, he seems to have a marked innocence and purity to his outward projected identity. Avril Lavinge has her Sun-Mercury in the 12th house squaring her Neptune-Mars conjunction in the 3rd. She has more of an edge to her personality with a lot of planets in Scorpio but she certainly comes off as a chaotic, intense and absent-minded creative which I would attribute more to Neptune. Her strong rebellious “I don’t care” statements through her music resonates with a lot of people, but so does her more sentimental songs. Timothe´ Chalamet has his Moon in Pisces sextile Mars-Mercury-Neptune and he is quite the stereotypical Neptunian boy – he looks delicate, introspective, dreamy and androgynous, more like an ethereal creature than an earth-bound human. With the conjunction in the 5th house there’s no wonder that he can act and express himself in a very fluid way. Acting and performing musically are the specialities of the Neptune, and if enough components in the chart support the endeavor one might just become famous. The trine and sextile aspect also lend themselves well to these kind of occupations. These people can effectively gain the sympathy of the public because people recognize something of themselves – something pure and unborn, a mutual feeling.

A good example of someone with the trine aspect between Neptune and Mars is Russel Brand. He is quite the Neptunian with an angular 10th house Neptune opposing his Sun and trining his Jupiter-Mars-Moon planets in Aries. Even though he certainly has the fire and energy of an Aries Mars that can sometimes be a bit too much for people he is not only fighting for himself he is fighting for all people. In many ways he’s embodying  universal hope and rage. He is fiery but also very receptive and deeply concerned with not causing any damage or hurt despite his characteristic blunt and direct approach. He has a marked religious/spiritual inclination, which is usually the case with a strong Neptune in the chart. In his early years the longing for Eden was sought through drugs, alcohol and fame, while it has now shifted to a more healthy inner exploration and focus on being of service to people. The soft aspects between Neptune and Mars-Moon-Jupiter planets in his chart helps him to cope with the disturbing Sun-Neptune opposition. In recent interviews, he admits that he still feels the pull of fame and success, yet he knows that if he goes down that path he will lose himself (his Sun) and will ultimately end up disillusioned and dissatisfied. I have the trine in my own chart, and I float aimlessly through life with the notion that things will work out and my actions will come to me, because I can’t plan or control anything. I have learnt that I have to trust the way things unfold, because I have a clear sense that my forced actions won’t lead me anywhere except to frustration and a sense of isolation. The sextile aspect seems to function a little bit more as an asset and a skill for the person to use. Politicians like Hillary Clinton, Angela Merkel and Francois Hollande all have this aspect and they can effectively use their receptivity to the masses and people in general to inform their actions.

Now to the harder aspects. Britney Spears is a good example of the dilemmas created by the Neptune-Mars square. Her Neptune squares Mars in the 12th house, the house belonging to Neptune and Pisces. Because of mental instability in her twenties she was put under a conservatorship which is essentially the equivalent of giving up personal control of one’s personal matters in order for an outside source to manage them until one gains some foothold. Mars is one of the prime factors of personal ambition and autonomy, but when it’s in the 12th it is given up – it is essentially a slave to the undifferentiated realm and subjected all the forces of the unconscious. A 12th house Mars in itself doesn’t have to produce the mess that Britney found herself in, but with it squaring Neptune, Mars is going to get swamped, mislead, confused, manipulated and subtly coerced because of the need for fusion, into doing things that will pull her further away from independent action. Another good example is Kylie Jenner. She has Neptune in her 1st house squaring Mars on the MC. She is publicly known for being part of the Kardashian-Jenner family, but she’s also gained attention because she skillfully created her own brand Kylie Cosmetics and became very “successful” (as in earning a lot of money) due to her own independent action and initiative. However, Neptune is anti-independence – and curiously enough there’s always some dishonesty involved when Neptune makes any hard aspects in the chart. She was declared the youngest self-made billionaire by Forbes in 2019, but, she has later been accused of forging tax documents to appear to be a billionaire. Neptune simply can’t let her be all that her Mars wants to be – a successful business woman with a clean record. Self-sabotage is almost always the case, however minor with this aspect, because Neptune refuses Mars’ need to be potent in the world.

The opposition creates a different dynamic although the dilemma is similar to the square. The person can be called to completely abandon an independent will to take action in favor of the glamour and blissful archetypal experience, not unlike the example of Russel Brand and his indulgence in fame and crowd-pleasing at the expense of his sense of self. The difference between having Sun opposing Neptune and Mars opposing Neptune is that in the first instance one is prone to give up a sense of self in favor of Neptune’s waters, while in the second, one feels the urge to give up the ability to direct one’s own life in order to merge with life around oneself. The opposition usually lends itself to extremism because the two polarities, in this case Mars and Neptune, can’t coexist. Queen Elizabeth II has this aspect, Mars-Jupiter in the 1st opposing Neptune in the 7th. She is on the one hand seen as an archetypal figure, immortal and divine and blissfully kept out of the real world in order to serve as a symbol and a fairytale for people to feel spiritually connected to. She’s non-aggressive, forgiving and compassionate, transcendent of the fuss of the world yet overseeing it all with care. She is essentially functioning to satisfy the religious/spiritual instinct of the masses, although it’s certainly done at the expense of her own selfish wants and needs. Luckily for her, her Mars drive is quite global and collective in nature considering that it falls in Aquarius and is conjunct Jupiter – it keeps her objective and less personal in her martial assertion. However, I’m sure she struggles with the contradiction between her own will and her role as an immortal unreality that would seem to activate itself in the interaction with other people (Neptune in the 7th). Edward Snowden also has this opposition falling in the same houses. His Mars-Sun conjunction opposes Neptune, and he famously leaked information about mass surveillance programs to the press. Neptune has everything to do with leaks and the dissolution of boundaries. He’s both been called a hero a traitor – which perfectly fits with the contradiction that the opposition represents. He certainly made a personal sacrifice by revealing the things he did so he is perfectly shouldering the martyr cape. In any case he did what he did for the public with the concern of other people in mind (Neptune 7th house) he took a non-selfish stance for the sake of a higher ideal and ethical conviction. Both Queen Elizabeth and Edward Snowden are quite extreme in their Neptunian capacity and has taken on fates of mythic magnitude.

[undertale-writing-times]

How would the skelly boys react to naga s/o. like s/o is a hybrid of a snake and a human. elso have a great day/night😁

Alright so after you asked I added more characters to the list. If you want them to be added, you could just resend this ask and I'll add those too :)

for now, I'll go with the ones that were on the list when you asked.

Sans- Okay so when he first met you, he wasn't really sure what you were. Were you a monster? Or were you a human? When you told him you were kind of a mix of both, he asked if he could do some tests. If you say yes, that's the start of a beautiful friendship! He mostly sees what kind of snake you're based off, and if you have all the powers of that snake. After a while he stops doing the tests, and is just happy to hang out with you and be your friend. When you guys start to date, he makes a lot of jokes about it 'I'm glad you didn't throw a hissy-fit when we both met, I know you have tough skin' eat him.

Papyrus- He's going to assume that you're just another monster at first. He'll talk to you and ask you all about your scales, and what you do for them because they're beautiful! When he finds out that you're not a monster, like him, but instead a human and monster hybrid he's going to go "wowie!" because that's really cool to him! He wonders if they had a kid, would it be a skeleton...human...snake? At first you kind of scared him, and that's why he went over to talk to you like he did, because he didn't want to be scared of you! Though if you ask him, he'll say nothing scares the great Papyrus!!

Blueberry- Depending on how big you are, he's going to try to ride on your back. He really likes your scales, and will often be seen studying them while you're asleep or something... he likes it when you wrap your tail around him, because it's like a big hug! Though don't do it too tight, or he might panic.

Stretch- Pun pun pun. Asks if you like history, because he knows a good hissssstorian. If you're going out somewhere fancy with him? Tells you to wear your boa-tie. Asks if he keeps making these puns, if it's going to come back and bite him. When you guys get together, like dating? yeah, still there. Asks if he could get a hiss before you go, and says if they could hiss and make up. Asks if you're a boa constrictor, because he has a crush on you. But for real. He really does find you very interesting and will study you and your movements without really showing that he's doing that. He wonders how you move, and how far you can open your mouth... would you be able to eat him?

Red- You want me to be honest? At first you threatened him. He didn't like how you looked human but also monster, and it made him feel nervous whenever he was around you, so he would keep up his guard. After a while he would slowly start to relax, but it takes a long time for him to fully lower his guard around you and even then, it'll go right back up if you do anything remotely wrong. Sure, he thinks you're pretty, but... shut up. When you two end up together? He thinks he has the coolest datemate, and will show you off however he can. If you have fangs? You bet your butt he's going to wanna look at them. He has his own but yours are different.

Edge- You can bet your ass that he's going to bring you to training with the royal guard. Mostly when you two are dating! He'll tell them that if they don't do well enough, he's going to let you eat them. If you want to play along, he'll love you so much more. When you two first met he was impressed with you, a human and monster hybrid? How strange... your scales glittering in the light made him think you were good enough to spend at least a little bit of time with the great and terrible Papyrus!

Axe- It's kind of a 50/50 with him. He might want to 'study' you like the other Sans did, because he is that Sans just... different, but otherwise he might just not exactly care? You're a monster and a human, you smell like a human and a monster, so it's a little confusing. At first, he might not like you, because you mess with his mind and make him all confused but after he gets used to you being around he wouldn't dislike you as much. After you two end up getting together he likes to lift you up and put you around his shoulders if you're not much bigger than him. He has a lot of warmth and shares it with you.

Noodle- it depends on where they are, but if they're above ground, he wants to see what you can fit in your mouth! How far can you stretch your jaw? He'd collect animals for you to try to eat, so expect to gain some weight because of him...

Lord- Lord is terrifde of you :D Good job. Literally. The first time he saw you, it was when he was training with the royal guards, and he was yelling at them, until he saw you and his eye shine would go away. Then he would tell them that they were working on running, and ran as fast as he could away from you. He was shockingly very speedy when he wanted to be! After that he would try to avoid you, but you'd show up where ever he was no matter what, it was like you were stalking him! It took a long time until he would feel comfortable enough to talk to you, and it turned out that you were pretty nice so he was happy... even after you guys get together, he's still nervous around you sometimes.

Mutt- Mutt wasn't really scared of you at first, more you freaked him out because he didn't know how you moved around without legs! He asked you that right away, then Lord tugged him away before you could answer. Finally, after a little while, you two were able to talk alone and he realized that you seemed really nice so he was happy to spend time with you! He would get you food and sometimes, to freak out his brother, he'd try to put his hand into your mouth and Lord would panic. Mutt can be a dick sometimes.

[angstsfordays]

Beautiful Pain (4)

Chapter Four- Now or Never

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced! Reader

Summary: Post-Blip, you started to feel lost when most of the Avengers team are gone. Coping with your loss, you still find hope in the connection with your remaining friends. However, it is not easy as everyone is trying to figure their lives after the Blip.

Having a long history with Bucky ever since you both saved each other from Hydra, you were still glad you had Bucky after all this time. However, as you try to give Bucky space to find himself after being pardoned for his past, you start to wonder if you should ever cross the line of friendship before it’s too late.

That thought might have to be put on hold though, when you, Sam and Bucky find yourselves having to deal with threats that continue to rise in a post-Blip world.

Chapter synopsis: Your supposed ally leads you to an unlawful nation where danger lurks at every corner. Bucky starts to see you in a different light.

Warnings: Sexual objectification. Very bad undercover work. Calling Sam daddy. Sexual innuendos.

Word count: 4.8k

Notes: I am very humbled that people have been enjoying the story and liking it so far! This means to me a lot as a novice writer! ☺️

I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, felt like I got more to expand for the Madripoor episode. I love to know what y’all think of it so far! 😘

The tag list is still open! Let me know if you want to join with a message or comment in the chapters!

Previous: Prologue | Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three

Next: Chapter Five

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As Zemo made arrangements on his end, you did not know what to expect. You, Sam and Bucky were brought to the tarmac of a small private airport, your attention was brought to the private plane that Zemo was leading you towards.

Sam made a comment on Zemo’s wealth and the latter explained that he was practically royalty before the Avengers destroyed his country. Touché.

You took the seat right across from Zemo and you couldn’t help but put your guard up around the man. He could sense the tension all over your face and offered champagne to which you declined. You wanted to make sure you were fully sober around this guy.

As you looked on at the exchange he had with his steward, he almost looked decent for a moment. You wouldn’t have thought of this guy to be a manipulative and scheming man that caused that chain of events many years ago.

“You don’t know what it’s like to be locked in a cell.” Zemo started off after having a sip of his champagne. He then paused in his actions as he looked over all of you and corrected him.

“Oh that’s right, you all do. My apologies.” Rolling your eyes, you crossed your arms as you leaned into the comfort of the plush aeroplane seat.

Sam tried to get Zemo to start talking but the baron brushed it off for a moment as he looked at a book in fascination. As Zemo brought up a familiar notebook, he asked who Nakajima was.

Your eyes perked up at the familiar name and you immediately turned to look at Bucky who instantly pounced on Zemo and grabbed him into a chokehold. Bucky warned him not to touch his notebook or he would actually kill Zemo, probably with his bare hands.

As Bucky settled down in his seat once more, you gave him a knowing look but he averted his eyes to avoid eye contact. The conversation then took a more light-hearted turn as Sam tried to describe how Steve noted down his suggestion of the Trouble Man soundtrack in the notebook that now was passed onto Bucky.

Sam asked if Bucky liked it too and the super-soldier replied that he liked 40’s music to which Sam look almost offended that Bucky didn’t share his taste in music. Bucky looked like he didn’t even want to bother but he clarified that he indeed liked it just to get Sam to back off.

Zemo decided to join in the conversation and put his two cents. Sam was surprised at how Zemo managed to eloquently describe the music style. Afterwhich, Sam went on to say how everyone loved Marvin Gaye while Bucky agreed that he did too.

Sam added that Steve adored the singer too. Hearing this, Zemo commented that Bucky must have looked up to Steve very much.

Yes, we all did. You wanted to add that in too.

Zemo, however, then took the liberty of giving his view on Steve. He talked about how dangerous it could be to idolize super soldiers like Steve and start to disregard their flaws, thus allowing him to not be held accountable for the repercussions that stem from his actions. Even if that meant the formation of movements, the fighting of wars, the loss of innocent lives.

Sam gave him a warning to better stop talking but Zemo continued on. When Zemo noticed how you started shaking your head in dissatisfaction, he gave a light chuckle before speaking directly to you.

“Miss Y/N. Contrary to my own personal views on enhanced individuals, I do find you fascinating, The files I read on you only make me more curious. Can I ask some questions?” You could feel the attention being put on you in the room and you grew slightly uncomfortable.

“What do you want?” Hoping to act nonchalant to mask your nervousness, you crossed your legs and leaned back into your seat.

“You have no family history. You grew up in an orphanage, am I right?” Nodding at the facts he laid out, Zemo carried on.

“You couldn’t have possibly been experimented on. You have gotten into any accidents?” You shook your head in response.

“Chemical exposure, radioactive bites, cosmic ray exposures….those are the possibilities that an ordinary person could obtain superhuman abilities according to the theories online.” Unimpressed, you continued to shake your head at him.

“Tell me. I’m curious.” You couldn’t entertain the likes of him but seeing how he was leaning in to wait for your answer, you gave an indifferent expression before speaking.

“It appeared out of nowhere. Someone committed arson in the local convenience shop where I was at the time. I was trapped with the elderly shopkeeper and I thought we were both going to die. A burning beam was falling onto us and I thought that was the end. I suddenly emitted a burst of energy that managed to put own the fire and incinerate the beam into ashes.” As you retold your story, memories of your fear from that time came back.

“The shopkeeper lost consciousness but I saw everything. I wasn’t sure if it was me but I ran away. I couldn’t’ return to the orphanage because I was afraid the police would find me. I lived on the streets for a week before my powers manifested again.” Your eyes fall to your fidgety hands, cracking your knuckles as it gave you some sort of relief.

“A kid was crossing the street without his mum knowing and a car was speeding on the road. I tried to reach out and pull him back in but the car was just inches away from us both. I caused a scene that couldn’t be ignored. S.H.I.E.L.D managed to find me and took me in.” Zemo’s eyes were tracking your every movement and expression in a way that Bucky didn’t like. As if you were something up for display and Bucky put his foot down.

He was getting protective of you and did not want Zemo to harbour any hidden intentions. Who knew what Zemo was thinking of?

Zemo spoke up before Bucky had the chance.

“Fascinating just fascinating. It’s like your powers had been dormant inside you all along. Are you even human?”

“Last time I checked, my blood is still red.” Your sarcastic response earned a laugh from Zemo and he stroked his chin as he continued to observe you quietly. Sensing he had more thoughts in his mind, you returned the questions back to him.

“You hate enhanced individuals so much, would you get rid of me if you had the chance?” Growing a smirk, Zemo wasn’t expecting you to ask him that and he was more than eager to give his reply.

“I am undecided, but you’re different. I can see you are more discreet than the others, just like Bucky over here.” Zemo made his final remark before he moved on to talking about the location that you were headed.

His words sunk in and you kept on thinking about how he hit the nail on the head.

Yes, you had to be more discreet. You could never proudly show off what you had, instead, you had to keep yourself hidden in order to protect yourself.

Recalling your S.H.I.E.L.D days, you remembered how you were told to keep your powers on a low profile by Director Fury himself.

Your lab results came back and it was discovered that you had a special gene in your DNA that could be identified. There weren’t any references or connections to existing research and findings so you were viewed almost as an abnormality.

It was then later discovered that your powers were connected to your life force and if you ever over-exerted yourself, you could possibly die. That almost happened back during the civil war between the Avengers. It was the first time you ever used your powers on a larger scale and you had even passed out at the end of the battle.

You remembered waking up in a hospital bed on the raft.

When you found refuge in Wakanda, you got to learn more about your powers with Shuri’s help. She believed as long as you trained your stamina and built up your strength, you could control your powers without ever worrying about being drained. That’s how you found yourself the privilege to receive special training with the Dora Milajae under King T’Challa’s request.

You definitely owed the Wakandans big time.

Seeing how you were uncharacteristically down, Bucky wanted to check in with you out of concern. However, he chose to restrain himself, thinking that you probably one to be left alone. He wished he could do more for you like you do for him.

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Before you knew it, you landed in Madripoor. An island nation that was lawless and dangerous, yet home to the darkest of black markets and underground businesses. Zemo said that all of you could not go in as yourselves and had to basically go in undercover.

You couldn’t hold back your laughter when Sam changed and came out in a fancy printed suit. He was to act as a real life promiscuous and rich man who really could have been his doppelgänger when you saw a picture of the man.

However, you weren’t one to laugh when Zemo asked you to act as one of Conrad Mack aka Smiling Tiger’s fling for the night. When you first received your outfit, you threw it back in Zemo’s face.

You were not the most comfortable with sexy and revealing clothing personally so you couldn’t imagine yourself wearing it at all. Zemo tried to convince you that Smiling Tiger’s women were all of a certain type so you had to go through with it in order to fit in.

Letting out a groan, you snatched the little champagne dress with an open keyhole back. The front was designed to give a loose look that shyly reveals your cleavage. The dress held onto your shoulders with thin straps and it overall gave the impression of a silk slip dress.

When you put it on, you wiped your clammy hands on the silk material and grimaced at how it barely covered your ass. You were grateful that the shoes you received had thick block heels as you had forgotten how to even walk in high heels anymore.

Swiping on the red lipstick for the final touch, you took a deep breath to calm your nerves as you looked in the mirror. You got this.

Stepping out of the changing room, you were met with the full attention of all three men and you put a finger up to warn them of making any unneeded comments.

“Damn Y/N. I mean this in the nicest way possible but this is an entirely different look for you. In a good way, of course.” Sam tried to compliment you seeing that you weren’t fully into your outfit.

“Thanks, Sam.” You knew his intentions were always pure and good, so you didn’t mind it much. As he and Zemo went off to discuss something, you saw that Bucky was still looking at you intently. He must think you look weird, you thought.

In all the years that Bucky have known you, it was the first time he has seen you looking like this. You always had gone for casual and comfortable looks in your daily life. The only time he has seen something different was when you put on your tailored suits for formal events.

He had to do a double-take when he saw how the little dress number hugged your figure in the right places.

Bucky knew he shouldn’t continue looking but his eyes fleeting quick glances when you were looking elsewhere. He always felt that you were one of the most beautiful people he knew on the inside, the fact that you could look past what he did and accept him for he was. He never felt that he had to pretend to be fine when you’re around because you were there to accept him for better or worst.

Seeing you now stirred up a different feeling inside of him. Why did you suddenly seem so attractive this time? He did not want to be that guy who viewed women differently because of the way they dressed. In fact, he was never the kind to like someone because of the way they look but more of how they make him feel.

However, observing how bashful and shy you look in front of him, Bucky suddenly felt rather nervous himself. He saw you taking a step towards and he swore his breath hitched as his mind was registering this scene in slow-motion.

Your hands came up to put his dog tags inside his black shirt before going for the zipper of his jacket. Your eyes fleetingly met his for a moment before you started saying something.

Bucky wasn’t able to process it as he was entirely focused on how you were casually helping him as you normally did, but his mind can’t help but think of it as an intimate gesture.

You continued to buckle up the belts of Bucky’s harness and couldn’t help but to relish in the act of caring for him. This was probably the only time you could fulfil your feelings of wanting to be close to him without crossing the line.

“All done.” Once you have adjusted the straps on his shoulder to make sure they were comfortable, you glanced to see Bucky looking down at you in a daze.

“Hey Buck, you there?” Calling for his attention, Bucky snapped back to reality as he saw you staring at him with a curious doe-eyed look. Clearing his thought, Bucky scrambled to recall what you had said and just continued looking at you in question.

You went on to ask if the straps were comfortable to which he nodded curtly. You grinned in satisfaction for a short moment before it fell into a tight-lipped smile.

“Bucky, are you really ok to go into character? I know how hard you worked to get away from all of that.” Implying how he had to act like the Winter Soldier for this undercover mission, Bucky took a deep breath before answering you.

“I’ll be fine. It’s just for this mission.” You just silently nodded at his words before signalling that you two should get a move on.

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All of you were heading to Low Town as Zemo named to find his informant, Selby. Zemo reminded everyone to stay in character regardless of the situation, if not the mission would be compromised and your lives could be at risk.

Zemo gave you a personal warning to avoid using your powers if possible. If your powers were revealed publicly, there was a high chance you were at a bigger risk than the rest because people would want to take you for their own.

It was not every day an enhanced individual with superpowers walks into Madripoor and you would definitely become a prize to be coveted.

You were first greeted by the hustle and bustle of the nightlife crowd. The neon signs lit up the incredibly dark streets followed by the loud booming music that could be heard from some of the places that you passed. Your eyes were focused on Zemo’s back as he led all of you to the location, refusing to make eye contact with anyone else.

Entering the crowded bar, you could hear Zemo speaking Russian to Bucky. You weren’t familiar with the language but you could make out one world, Soldat.

Sneaking your arms around Sam who was caught off, you gave me a pointed look that told him that the undercover work starts now. He gave you a brief nod before rolling out his shoulders and you pressed yourself closer to him, putting your acting face on.

All of you stood by the bar where the bartender greeted all of you.

“Hello, gentlemen. Wasn’t expecting you, Smiling Tiger.” The bartender nodded to Sam. His eyes moved over to meet yours before greeting you, Miss. You gave your best smile in return.

“His plans changed. We have business to do with Selby.” Zemo told the bartender. You could see the shift in his eyes and saw someone from out of the corner of your eye moving away. Shifting your stance, the bartender didn’t acknowledge Zemo’s words and glanced back to you again.

“New face?” His comment was directed towards Sam but seeing how Sam was hesitating, you realised that he hadn’t had much experience with undercover work at all. He was a military man not a spy or agent after all.

“Hopefully, the last.” You giggled shyly and looked up to Sam with an affectionate gaze before giving the bartender a wink.

The bartender nodded curtly before asking Sam (Smiling Tiger) if he wanted his usual. Sam nodded silently in an efforts to prevent himself from doing anything out of character.

You caught Bucky looking at you as he leaned sideways on the counter. Your silent exchange was a way for you two to check in with each other and a brief smile mirrored on both of your faces before you turn to see the bartender taking out a snake from a big jar.

Trying to control your expression at the disgust coming up your throat, you subtly swallowed heavily at the sight of how the bartender slit the snake open. Sam who had his back turned for a brief moment was shocked to see what was presented on the counter in front of him.

Zemo tried to continue to put on the act and acted like it was nothing out of the ordinary. Your global knowledge and several visits to Asia made you realised why this was the Smiling Tiger’s favourite. Snakes infused into wine was touted to be an aphrodisiac to help a man increase, ahem, stamina.

Bucky felt almost bad for Sam and looked away briefly. You could see Sam gulping down nervously when the bartender added the finishing touch to the drink and you gently rubbed his arm for emotional support.

“I love these.” Sam managed to say through gritted his teeth and clinked his glass with Zemo. Your own bile almost resurfaced and you quickly turned your head to hide your nervous gulp.

Putting up a thumbs up awkwardly, you wanted to facepalm when the bartender looked back at Sam with a dubious expression.

You knew you needed to do something so everyone’s covers won’t be blown. Putting on a sly smirk, you let a hand move up Sam’s chest slowly and sensually before resting it where his heart was.

“Looks like you and I will be in for a long night.” Adding a slight giggle, you pretended to act shy after you spoke your words. Sam was trying his hardest to not look bewildered at your act while Bucky was trying to suppress a sudden wave of annoyance that washed over him.

He knew that this was an act but he still didn’t like it for some reason. He had to admit that he was not expecting you to get into character so well, seeing that this image you were presenting was the furthest cry from who you actually were.

The bartender looked slightly less suspicious of all of you before he went away. You could feel Sam heaving a sigh of relief beside you and you did the same alongside him.

Another man came up to Zemo, telling him of how he was unwelcomed in the area. Zemo putting up a cool façade, explained he had no business with someone named the power broker. Zemo restated his business here once more before the guy left.

Zemo explained that the power broker runs Madripoor and it was best you all stayed under his radar. Moments passed before another guy came up behind Zemo and Zemo turned to Bucky talking in Russian once more.

The instant the man placed his hands on Zemo, Bucky went into winter soldier mode. Everyone’s attention was directed to the scene happening. The whirling sound of Bucky’s vibranium was heard clearly as he was nearly crushing the man’s hands and went ahead to knock him over.

More and more people started to gather fool’s courage to take on Bucky. You saw how he easily took down everyone with barely any sweat.

“Didn’t take much for him to fall back into form,” Zemo commented to you and Sam, and in all honesty, you wanted to choke him like what Bucky was doing to another guy on the bar’s counter.

Hearing the continuous clicking of guns from everyone in the bar, your senses were now alert at the possibility of having to break character and use your powers.

“Stay in character or the whole bar turns on us.” Zemo whispered into your ear and grabbed onto your hand before you could even think of doing anything.

Zemo got Bucky to back down and the bartender told you all that Selby was ready for your visit. Sam checked in with Bucky to which he responded with a curt nod.

As you made your way along the back end of the bar, you could see the stacks of cash all over a table and the armed guards that filled up every corner of the room.

“You should know, Baron. People don’t come into my bar and make demands.” Selby turned out to look like what you would imagine her to be. She sat comfortably on her couch with a dominant presence and seemed like she was not someone easy to deal with.

Zemo tried to reassure her that he was making offers not demands to quell her mood. Selby asked how Zemo was able to escape from prison and Zemo replied smugly on how people like them always found a way.

As Zemo tried to shift focus onto the order of business, Selby wasn’t still into it. Making a comment about Sam’s taller than usual height, Sam not knowing what to respond just nodded in silence.

She even purred at him teasingly before her eyes landed on you.

“Who’s this pretty little thing you have here? Where are you from?” Selby’s eyes narrowed in as you sense everyone starting to look flustered by the unexpected question. You were just meant to play a background character but didn’t expect the sudden attention.

Biting your lips into a furtive grin, you snaked your hands around Sam’s biceps. “Daddy picked me up from the club that I was working at. He says I am his one and only now.”

The men all tried to stop their jaws from dropping to the floor at your sweetly coy act. Who were you?

“Hmm…” Selby hummed while she looked you up and down. “You can do better, sweetie,” Selby remarked smugly before giving a subtle gesture to herself.

Lips forming into an ‘o’, you feigned a surprised reaction at the flattery. You tried to send a flirtatious look back so that Selby would be in a better mood.

Your act was rewarded when Selby grinned wider and asked Zemo for his offer. In exchange for information on the super-soldier serum, Zemo was willing to trade Bucky in pretence. He added how he would give Selby the codes word to control Bucky, treating him like an object.

A wave of anger started rushing through you as the scene unfolded and you glanced to see how Selby became more intrigued.

“Hmm, I have plenty of strong men already working for me. What else can he offer?” Zemo was taken aback by Selby’s words, thinking that she would already be interested in Bucky.

As the men were grappling to come up with a good response, you went on your first instinct and spoke up.

“Well he is rather handsome, isn’t he?” Everyone’s focus turned onto you and you took a breath to continue as Selby gave you an expecting look.

“Not as handsome as my daddy here but-” Walking around Sam, you headed towards Bucky who was trying to look unbothered but dying of curiosity on what you were about to do.

“He seems like fun to play with.” You purred as you gazed at Bucky’s profile. You gestured for Bucky to face you and could see how he was still staying in character. Running your fingers down his five o'clock shadow, your eyes glinted as you batted your lashes flirtatiously before looking over your shoulder back at Shelby.

“You can’t help but imagine having a good time with him. Super soldier serum should have some perks, no?” Your hidden innuendo was loud and clear to everyone in the room. If this didn’t appeal to Selby, you didn’t know what will.

Sam was trying his hardest to maintain his expression as he couldn’t believe his ears. Never in a million years would he think the sweet and innocent Y/N he knew actually dared to speak like that.

Bucky did his best to tighten his jaw and continue his stoic facade to hide the shock from what you had just said.

Never did he thought you would take the situation to such a turn. Your improv was unexpected and he couldn’t believe the woman in front of him was actually you.

Your sudden bold and cheeky persona was doing something to him. Your innuendo about him started to make him feel hot in his ears. Bucky had to clench his fist tightly to get himself to hold it together as he felt his heart racing out of nowhere.

He didn’t know what was happening to him but he knew you were having some sort of effect on him.

“Of course, that’s my silly opinion.” Turning to face Selby with a mischievous smile to keep up your character, you noted her looking at you thoughtfully as she rubbed her chin.

“Not just pretty but you’re witty, aren’t you?” Selby noted as she grinned like a Cheshire cat. Satisfied with your input, Selby then revealed what she knew about the super-soldier serums.

Apparently, there was a doctor, Dr William Nagel who has been helping the power broker to create the serums here in Madripoor. When Zemo tried to probe further about Nagel’s location, Selby decided that Zemo was overstepping.

In the very next moment, you could hear a vibration of a phone and saw Sam reaching out to his jacket.

Great, all of your covers might be blown. Selby demands that Sam answered it on speaker. The tension in the room could be cut with a knife. To carry on the act, Sam reluctantly proceeded to answer the phone.

A woman’s voice came up and in the next sentences spoken, you realised that she was his sister, Sarah. Oh boy, this wouldn’t end well. You closed your eyes in prayer as you hoped it can go over smoothly.

Taking a sharp intake of breath, you looked to see Bucky glancing down in shared unease. Sam was doing his best to make sure his cover won’t get blown. You thought all was going well but when you heard Sam’s name from Sarah, you knew you were all toast.

Selby immediately called for all of you to be killed and in that moment, all hell broke loose. Selby got shot in a blink of an eye and her guards were up in action. Bucky pushed you behind him protectively as he fought off Selby’s men.

Once all her guards are dealt with, Zemo called for weapons to drop and you took the back exit.

Making a swift escape, all of you tried to play it cool while taking long quick strides. The sound of the first gunshot made you jumped and sprang into a run. You saw Zemo took off in another direction but you didn’t have time for him.

You, Bucky and Sam decided to sprint ahead. “I can’t run in these heels.” Sam cried out and you retorted in annoyance.

“How do you think I feel? Mine’s twice as taller than yours!”

Bucky reached over to grab your hand and interlocked your fingers together. His super-speed was practically lifting you off the ground, dragging you like a rag dog.

"Hey! What the hell man? What about me?" Bucky ignored Sam's whining and focused on not letting your hand go.

Not knowing where you are headed, a sense of dread started pouring on you and you grew anxious by the second. People on motorbikes were starting to drive up behind you three.

You were wondering if it’s time to not give care and actually use your powers for real this time. All of a sudden, the two people on the bikes behind you have been shot by someone from above and you stopped in your tracks to locate that individual, fearing you were next.

Zemo reappeared from the shadows and claimed that you all might have a guardian angel.

“Drop it, Zemo.” The familiar voice brought relief as you matched it to the face that emerged into your sight.

Your smile at the thought of a friendly face faltered when she continued pointing a gun towards all of you. Sharon didn’t seem as pleased as you were. Turns out she had to fall off the grid and found herself in Madripoor after the turn of events many years ago.

"Y/N, is that you?" She took a double-take on you, probably not used to seeing you dress up like this.

"Hey." You awkwardly replied. The moment didn't last as Sharon trained her eyes on the men and continued to be hostile.

Your heart dropped as you hear her telling of how she was unable to be in contact with her family anymore. She had become a fugitive and still is. An immense amount of guilt washed all over you when she retorted about how she wasn’t backed by the Avengers.

You weren’t batch mates with Sharon back in S.H.I.E.L.D academy but you became friends when you crossed paths during work. You could not believe you haven’t reached out to her all this time.

Bucky pleaded with Sharon for her help and Sharon gave a thoughtful look at all of you. When she saw you with your uncomfortable expression, she gave a sighed and stated that she wasn’t done discussing the topic.

Offering refuge in her place at High Town, all of you accept it.

You sat beside her in the front and the two of you exchanged silent looks before she started the engine. What were the odds of seeing her again in Madripoor?

You hoped to be able to get a chance to talk to her later.

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Tag list: @tanyaherondale @spookycereal-s @cataves @conflicted-noxsirius

[hopeless-ro-simptic]

Familiar Cerulean Eyes Pt. 5

Click here for other parts. Part 6 is up here.

Sorry for the delay, midterms kicked my butt and then I was sick all weekend, but here it is! For those wondering where Shoto is, don’t worry, he’s coming. This chapter is more of an introduction to the rest of the League. 

Word Count: 2.5 K 

Taglist:  @skzero-99 @superblyspeedydragon @jparra4587 @flyingowls @emrysaaryn @imuziawi @sheedaabee @peculiarinsomniac @littlelovebug98 @plutoneu @giftofwonder @kitty-kat-ash @fukyouthink @anarchys-bnha-mess @threbony @orenjineki @toobsessedsstuff @bamf-barnes @x-a-delama-x @inanabsentia @reallyshey @godsblesstheboi @operatorsdime @drownedbytears

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You expected there to by some sort of delay, making you sit in the black mist for a moment, a brief second before entering wherever it was taking you. There wasn’t. So, with no preparation at all, you were dropped into a corner of a dingy looking bar, surrounded by the unfamiliar scents of strangers. None of which you could assume were good company.

Dabi immediately shoved you behind him up against the corner, standing between you and the rest of the villains all of which who’s eyes immediately locked onto your own as you peeked out from behind him. There was no hiding your omega’s scent.

“My, my, someone smells delicious… what do you have there lover boy?” An Alpha on the other side of the room with a mask covering everything but his mouth and eyes stared back at you, smile on his face, a marble being rolled between his fingers.

“She’s so cute, I want a taste.” Golden eyes, wide with excitement, followed your movements as the petite blonde beta bounced in her seat, a knife between her fingers. You think you recognized her as the one that was called Toga, Shoto and his friends had run into her a couple times now. She had some kind of blood quirk and was obsessive with people.

You shrunk further back into the corner, eliciting a low growl from Dabi, which only made the alpha’s smile across the room widen.

“Now now pretty boy, why don’t you let the pretty girl say hello?”

The second beta jumped in now, his scent confusing your omega as it smelled both sweet and spicey, strong and weak all at the same time. “She should join us. Kill her she knows too much!” He sounded like two completely different people when he spoke, if you weren’t watching him you couldn’t have been sure that both voices were him.

The last person in the room, other than Shigaraki and Kurogiri, a scaled alpha with purple hair that sat the closest to you stayed silent, watching and listening.

You had barely blinked and the small blonde in the school uniform was in your face, peering around Dabi a wide smile across her features, her tongue licking her vampire like teeth.

“I’m Toga, that’s Twice, Spinner and the fancy guy in the top hat is Compress!”

“Toga!” Shigaraki growled out in annoyance.

“What? Everyone already knows who we are anyways! It’s rude to not introduce yourself.” Toga turned back to you, her crazed smile still wide, knife still in her hand. She took a step towards you only for Dabi to burst into flames, essentially engulfing you as well, forcing her to step back several paces.

“If anyone touches her I will rip their fucking heads off and burn them to a crisp”

The room was immediately filled with the scent of your panic rising as you tried to cower away from the flames licking at your skin but not burning you. You tried to rein in the panic, knowing you were fine but the sight and smell of the flames and smoke had your omega chirping wildly for help from an unknown source.

Dabi put out the fire as soon as everyone was far enough away, not even bothering to glance back at your terrified form. What the fuck was that? Did he know you couldn’t be burned? Did he care?

It was then that you noticed the deafening silence that followed. The questions hung thick in the air as everyone watched as your unscathed form looked up at Dabi with distress on your face. Even the hoodie you were wearing was barely burnt at the edges, making you wonder if most of his clothes were fire resistant somehow.

Kurogiri was the first to react, appearing suddenly in front of your form between you and Dabi, causing a low warning growl to be emited from the alpha, but the calm and collected beta ignored him completely.

“What’s your name little one?”

Dabi watched, ready to step in at a moments notice, but shockingly, you didn’t feel any malice coming from the well dressed mist in front of you. You had heard about majority of the member of the league from the Todoroki’s, mostly Shoto, but you were still amazed at the mist in front of you. Did he have a body? His scent was so soft and calming, even for a beta. It was so easy to miss. Like a light rain on a spring morning. It was no wonder you didn’t notice him when he first entered Dabi’s apartment earlier.

Everyone else was silent, watching on with curiosity as Kurogiri prompted you a second time.

“Your name?”

“Oh.. um… Y/N” You felt oddly at ease speaking to the mist in front of you, he didn’t have nearly the same effect on your omega that the other villains in the room did. You felt like he wouldn’t hurt you for some reason. You weren’t scared of him.

“Y/N…and can I ask what your quirk is, Y/N?”

You glanced over to Dabi, his face unreadable, before glancing around the room. As much as you didn’t want to tell the league of villains anything about yourself, you knew they weren’t going to leave you alone until you answered.

“Nullification skin… quirks and their effects that are outside of my skin don’t usually work on me. It’s pretty hit or miss though.”

Dabi glanced over to see that Shigaraki, who had been silently scratching away at his neck this entire time had stopped, glancing at his hands and back at you the question clearly written on his face. Dabi let out a snarl stepping towards the other alpha, ready to take him on if he so much as reached for you again.

“That doesn’t mean test it.”

You could see the blue haired alpha growing angry with how Dabi was talking to him. You didn’t want to be in the middle of another fight between the two.

“Come now, let’s not fight over the pretty damsel, I believe we have a mission to discuss?” Compress had spoken again, his eyes watching you with interest and something else. He made you uneasy.

“He’s right. Show and tell is over. We can deal with your little pet later. Kurogiri, get her out of here.”

Before Dabi could react, you were once again sent through the black mist of a portal, a soft chirp leaving your lips.

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The room you were in was small and looked like a prison cell if you were being honest. Maybe it was, after all you knew that the League of Villains was not above taking hostages. There was nothing in the room other than a toilet in the corner and a mattress on the floor, as well as a camera perched high up in the corner of the ceiling. Not even a blanket to keep you warm. There wasn’t even a door, which really had you confused. You guessed that the only way in or out of here was through a teleportation quirk. You curled up in the corner, on the mattress pulling your knees tight against your chest, tears streaming down your face as you cried silently.

You had always been a cry baby, the Todoroki pups used to tease you about it all the time, even Touya. Especially Touya. You felt like today you were allowed to cry though, given everything that has gone down in the last day or so. You felt like every five minutes you were going to die, and now the only person who seems to care about your safety, even though he is the one that kidnapped you to begin with, was ripped away from you, not to mention he clearly was hiding things. Like how he knew what your quirk was, or at least that his fire wouldn’t affect you. Had you been on fire at the market? Did he just assume you were fireproof? Or did he not know and just didn’t care if he burnt you?

The emotions that swirled in you were so confusing. You had been kidnapped, caught on fire, and almost killed.

On the other hand, your omega was over the moon at the attention you had received today. You hadn’t had someone look at you the way that Dabi does in years, in some ways ever. Were you just latching onto him emotionally because he is the nicest one out of all the murderers? You didn’t think so. Before the others were even involved he was kind to you. Sure he kidnapped you, and yes he was a cocky arrogant bastard that seems to think he has a claim over you. But he hasn’t even fully scented you yet. He hasn’t really forced himself on you. Not how a typical alpha would… and he gave you a blanket. Unscented. What alpha does that? For some reason, your omega, no not even, you were entranced by the blue eyed alpha. You wanted to smell him, to build a nest around him, to…

You frowned at your thoughts. Why were you going there? You barely knew this guy, and clearly he knew a lot more about you than you thought.  You couldn’t trust him just because he was a little nicer than some of the other alpha’s you had known, let alone the other villains you were surrounded by. Just because he is only the second other person to get you a gift. Just because he reminds you so much of a red-haired alpha that you missed with every ounce of your being.

Your stomach growled and you realized there was no food in this room or water, you weren’t sure how long it has been or how long you would be in here. Surely they would bring you some food and water, since they didn’t kill you outright.

Or maybe they would all grab some popcorn and watch as you starved to death, your mind going crazy at the silence.

After a few more minutes, or maybe it was a couple hours, you weren’t sure, the black mist of a portal finally showed up again, Dabi stepping through, it closing behind him. He looked tired and annoyed, his hair all sticking up from what you assumed was him running his fingers through it. It was a sexy look that’s for sure, but you ignored your inner omega, refusing to acknowledge his existence as you continued to stare at where the portal had been. At this point you were done crying, now you were angry.  

“I’ll be back in a couple days… you’ll have to stay here. It’s the best protection I can offer you right now. Tomura won’t even let me take you to my room here. He’s worried you’ll escape and go running to the hero’s” He glanced over at you, his hands buried deep in the pockets of his long cloak that was classic for his villain costume, a frown gracing his lips. “He’s probably not wrong I assume.”

“I want to go home,” His lips quirked up at your response. You sounded mad. Feisty. He liked it a little too much. He wanted to rile you up some more.

“I don’t doubt that, but which home are we talking about princess? The cage that is the number 2 hero’s domain? Or is it somewhere else?”

“What do you know about me?” Your eyes flitted over to his, a frown pulling at your face seeing that he was smirking per the usual. As much as your omega wanted him, there was no denying it at this point, you didn’t trust him for a second.

He squatted down in front of you, his arms resting casually on his knees, his face leaning in close to your own, the smell of alcohol on his breath.

“I know that you’re not wearing any underwear right now, cause I have your panties in my pocket. I know that the little gasps you make are sexy as fuck, and that you’ll probably be a good obedient little mouse once we get down to the nasty of things. I know that your lips look so damned kissable and I know that you want m-“ You shoved him, causing him to fall back onto the floor in front of you a weak hiss coming out of your throat, your face beet red.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it” the smirk on his lips wavering slightly as you turned away from him again, your voice flat. You were tired, you didn’t want to play his games right now. You were already starting to feel numb from the constant stress.

He let out a sigh, pushing himself back up onto his feet, pulling a walkie-talkie from his cloak pocket, tossing it to the bed next to you.

“Look, Kurogiri has the other one, if you need anything call him, he will get it for you. I’ll be back in a couple days and then we can get you into a more comfortable place okay? With a real bed.”

You continued to ignore him, wishing he would just leave you alone. Apparently having your life threated and being toyed with was exhausting. You curled up into yourself, facing the corner of the room leaning your head against the wall, as you heard the shuffle behind you the Alpha waiting for any kind of response.

After about a minute, he let out a soft grunt, turning to leave, pausing once more.

“Is there anything you want from the apartment before I leave? Maybe your old clothes for comfort…” You could barely hear the last part, a strange sadness tinting his voice. They only barely had Shoto’s scent on them, but you somehow knew that was what he was referring to.

Your omega spoke before you could even think.

“Can I have that blanket back... and some food?”

It was only a couple minutes after he left that the portal opened, your blanket, a singular pillow that after a quick sniff you confirmed was the one from his bed, and a bag of snacks and food being dropped onto the floor before closing again. You shuffled over grabbing the pillow and blanket planning to make what little of a nest you could when you noticed a sticky note with one word scratched onto it stuck to the bag of snacks. Reading it made your heart flutter in a way that you hated. Why did your omega want him?  

Sorry.

[sonicasura]

It appears both the Rayman, and Jak & Daxter franchises are in a huge pickle. I think it's about time for some good gaming company to take them out of Ubisoft and Naughty Dog's hands.

Starting with Jak and Daxter, this titular series following an elvish teen and his ottsel best friend were one of the few open world platformers without a loading screen. In most open world games, there's a short rendition or loading screen when going into buildings and specific areas.

Jak and Daxter would only stop it's gameplay if you either enter a cutscene or pause the game. Everywhere you go even travelling through portals is unhindered by any needless loading screens.

Each game is chock full of interesting characters, plentiful secrets, various landscapes, and offers different mechanics from puzzle solving, races, to challenging boss fights.

As of now, the series has turned 20 but Naughty Dog didn't really do anything for it except for a reflection. Quite disrespectful to one of their most frugal franchises. Sure, you guys wouldn't do a game but you could at least make some artwork or something to celebrate the game turning 20 instead of a reflection.

It's honestly sad and disappointing to see a franchise that has been part of someone's childhood get neglected especially on a time like this. Nowadays, Naughty Dog been giving us games like the Last of Us after stopping the Uncharted series.

Sorry to say but I really don't fancy the Last of Us. Uncharted at least had some wonderment to it despite how brutal some parts of the gameplay are. The Last of Us looks more deader than the zombies it has.

At least Jak and Daxter, even darker titles like Jak 2 and Jak 3, had life to it. From the locales, enemies and characters! They feel more realistic than the cardboard cutouts that is Naughty Dog's latest game series. And their graphics are cartoon in style instead of realistic.

Naughty Dog has made itself clear that they are no longer going to try and make games like Jak and Daxter. That they are just going to keep shitting more "realistic" games.

Now for Rayman. Ever the Rabbids were made, Ubisoft's star character has been pushed further and further away into the shadows. The last mainstream Rayman game we had was Rayman Legends which came out years ago. All of the latest installments have been mobile games.

I do like playing Mario + Rabbids: Kingdom Battle and I do wish to play the sequel but I really don't like the Rabbids actually. Mario helps balance them out but everywhere else just pisses me off. Part of my hate, not just them pushing Rayman into obscurity, is they're just plain annoying than funny.

America had a Rabbid explosion with an invasion of games, merch and TV shows to the point I wanted to scream. Luckily it's died down but it won't take long for it too come back.

Back unto Rayman, it appears Ubisoft also doesn't want to focus on 'childish' games like Rayman. Here's the article link to fully put into scale on what I mean.

What's worse is the director and designer of the titular franchise, Michel Ancel, left the gaming industry to open a wildlife open sanctuary. I have no problem with Michel's decision by the way, I wish him the best of luck in this new endeavor.

What makes me mad is that Ubisoft is leaving Rayman to slowly degrade into a mobile device hell. Making small mobile games while other franchises and it's spinoff Rabbids be made into fully fledged games.

In conclusion, I think it's time for someone to buy the rights for Rayman and Jak & Daxter. They're greatly neglected much to the disappointment and frustration of a lot of people, not just me.

I think Nintendo, Bandai Namco or Insomniac might be able to use Rayman. As for Jak and Daxter, I think Capcom, Bandai Namco or Atlus will be the best choice. These games deserve to be seen again. For newer audiences to experience whether it be a remaster, reboot or even a sequel game. And for older audiences to be able to play them on newer consoles alongside improved graphics.

This is it for now. Have a good day folks and happy 20th anniversary Jak and Daxter!

[insomniamamma]

Late Bloomers: Ezra x F! Reader w/Cee

A/n: Set in the "Liminal" AU in which Ezra becomes his niece, Cee's legal guardian after a car accident kills his brother, Damon, and costs him his arm. Set sometime between "Ferris  Wheels Are For Old People" and "Surf City Goodness." Reader is Ezra's neighbor. Established relationship (sort of, IDK how to tag what they are). For @autumnleaves1991-blog​ and @clydesducktape​ Writer Wednesday.

Warnings: Not a whole lot. Kissing. Touching. A little spicier than I usually go, which isn't saying whole lot. A little language.  Cee, as usual, needs her own warning. Set during the pandemic shut down. Mentions of covid. Also, I feel like 'The Apple' needs it's own warning. I'll link the trailer at the end.

           "You sure you don't want to come with us, Birdie?" Cee sits at their scarred kitchen table, her laptop, textbooks and a pile of papers around her. She frowns.           "I gotta study," she says, "Ms Stewart is really serious about this quiz. She's not grading on a curve this time." Ezra narrows his eyes.           "You have never spent a Saturday night studying in your life," he says. Cee frowns up at him.           "You've never been in Ms. Stewart's physics class," says Cee, "She's a hard ass. Anyway, I'm still pulling an 'A' in her class, but I don't want to fuck up my average."           "Jesus, Cee," Ezra mutters, and you have to smile. She rolls her eyes.           "I know, I know--"           "Don't say 'fuck' at school," they say in unison.           "They're doing double features all summer," says Cee, "I can miss one. I've seen all these movies anyway." She smirks, "I want to hear what you think of 'The Apple.'" Ezra rummages around for his keys and Cee drops you the most exaggerated wink you've ever seen in your life.           "Have fun, guys," she says.

         Covid has nuked most of the things you used to do for fun, restaurants and shows, hell, even the libraries are closed. The only business in town that's thriving is the Star-City Drive In. There haven't been any big studio releases in a while, so they've been doing Fright Night Fridays and Sci-Fi Saturdays. Tonight's double feature is Flash Gordon and The Apple.          "They've got this weird way of operating the concession stand now," says Ezra, "Cause of the pandemic. You've gotta text them your order and I guess they bring it out to you--" Ezra's gotten pretty good at working his phone one-handed, but you can see the frustration clouding his face.          "Let me," you say, loading the menu onto your phone, "Let's get a big popcorn and share it. You okay with the fake butter?"          "Of course I'm okay with the fake butter, what kind of monster do you take me for?"          "How about candy?" You ask, scrolling through, "It's the usual suspects."          "Sno-caps," he says, "How about you?"          "I'm thinking Milk Duds," you say.          "Now that is an excellent way to lose a filling, Sunshine."          "Popcorn and Milk Duds together? Worth the risk," you say and text your order off to the concession stand. It's not quite dark yet, a reel of movie trivia that no one cares about shines ghost pale on the screen. Ez has got the radio tuned to pick up the sound, but there's not much to listen to yet so it's turned down low, background noise with the cicadas and birdsong. The big screen backs up against a farmer's field run wild and a dark stand of trees.          "Switch places with me," says Ezra, and gets out of the truck. He comes around to your side and opens the door for you.          "Why?"          "Indulge me," says Ezra, so you do as he asks and settle in to the driver's side. Ezra's truck has bench seats with vinyl that creaks and cushions that hiss slightly as you move around. There's a tap at the window and you hook your mask over your ears and crank it down, popcorn and candy and you already payed with your phone, but press some rumpled bills into their gloved hands.          "Why'd you want to switch places?" You ask around a mouthful of popcorn.          "Shhh," says Ezra, "The movie's starting."

         Flash Gordon is just as fun as you remember it being, majestic in its absurdity, a big love letter to all the terrible pulp sci-fi movies that came before, the two of you watch and snark and laugh and sing "Aaa-ahhh" whenever someone says Flash's name. We owe it to Queen, you say, and Ezra smiles big the way he does when something's caught him off guard, the way that crinkles his eyes and reveals his dimples, indeed we do. We owe it to Freddie Mercury.          At some point his arm finds it's way around your shoulders and you lean into him.          "So this is why you wanted to switch spots," you murmur. He raises his prosthetic arm, flickering movie light shining on the double hook at the end.          "Can't exactly get handsy with Mr. Claw, now can I?" He grins, "These hooks might be a little chilly."          "And pokey," you say, demonstrating with a dig to his ribs. The end credits are rolling.          "You ever seen this next movie?"          "The Apple?" He says, "No. Some sort of cult-movie thing. Cee made me promise not to IMDB it. She said I should go in with an open mind."          "Oh boy," you laugh.          "Right? Cee's tastes are all over the place. I suspect this will be either amazing  or terrible on a scale that recalibrates our internal gauge of what terrible is."          "You know she set us up, right?"          "Yeah," says Ezra, "Little Bird fancies herself quite the matchmaker."          "She winked at me." Ezra dimples.          "Did she now?"          "She looked like a cartoon," you laugh, "About as subtle as a ton of bricks." Ezra brays laughter and leans against you, squeezes you closer to him at the same time. He is beautiful when he laughs, all dimples and teeth eyes screwed shut in mirth and you take this opportunity to press a kiss against that tender place on his jaw where his beard refuses to grow. Ezra freezes, you feel his body go rigid against yours, and your first thought is to apologize, to pull back, and then he reaches for you, his broad, calloused palm cradling your face, drawing you to him, presses his lips to yours, a soft, reverent kiss that he does not fully withdraw from, his hand now resting on the nape of your neck, forehead pressed to yours, somehow more intimate than a kiss, this closeness, breathing each others exhalations, leaning against each other.          "Cee's not wrong," you say, "We're good together."          "We are, aren't we?" He gives your nape a gentle squeeze, and lets you go. The opening titles of The Apple flicker on screen and the music starts up.

         "Oh, Ezra, what the fuck did we just watch?"          "I don't know if 'watch' is the right word, Sunshine, we did not 'watch' The Apple. The Apple happened to us."          "I don't think I've ever understood Stockholm syndrome until now."          "I have been assaulted," says Ezra, "My civil rights have been violated."          "It's like..." You trail off, "It's like if someone took '1984', 'A Star Is Born' and 'The Rocky Horror Picture Show' and put them in a blender. I'm pretty sure this movie violates the Geneva conventions." Ezra laughs and so do you, leaning in to each other, giggles that become kisses, soft at first, but increasingly hungry, laced with need, your arms twine around his shoulders, his hand lingers at your side, toying with the hem of your shirt.          "S'okay, Ez," you say as he nips at your jaw and then your neck, gentle graze of teeth that makes you shiver, "You can touch me." He kisses you deep, his tongue fever-hot against yours, hand sliding up the soft slope of your belly, cupping your breast, and you arch into his touch--          Tap Tap Tap. And there's a bright light shining through the passenger's side window.          "Oh shit," says Ezra. You frantically yank your shirt back down, heat creeping up your neck, your cheeks, your earlobes flaming.          "Movie's over guys," says the shadowed figure behind the flashlight's glare, "Take it someplace else." You open the door to switch places back with Ezra, the overhead light shows him red faced and horrified.          "I'm sorry, I just--"          "Get us out of here, Ez."

         You stare out into the dark past the window, half-moon shining over fields and trees like a lazy eye. You snort laughter.          "What's so funny?"          "We got caught," you say, "We got caught necking at the drive-in like a couple of teenagers."          "You're laughing because we got caught?"          "I'm laughing because I've never made out with anyone at a drive-in, even when I was a teenager, and I'm laughing cause we got caught. After watching that trash-fire of a movie. We got caught making out over the end credits of 'The Apple'. I feel like we deserve some kind of award." You rest your hand on Ezra's leg, can just pick his smile in the dim lights from the dash. Ezra chuckles.          "I never made out with anyone at the drive in before tonight either," says Ezra.          "Bullshit," you say, and give him a good-natured poke.          "It's true," he says, "For one, I didn't have access to a car. I would've had to borrow Ma's car, and there was no way that was ever going to happen. Also, I was not what the girls back then referred to as 'dating material'. Skinny as a rake with a mouthful of braces and an obvious birthmark? I was like a puppy trying to grow into it's ears and feet, a late bloomer if you will." You move your hand higher up along his thigh and give him a squeeze.          "Better late than never."          "Indeed."

Flash Gordon Trailer

The Apple Trailer

[thestraggletag]

Roll for Initiative, a Rumbelle D&D Fic

Summary: Tales of the Enchanted Forest was the hottest online D&D game, in part for its charismatic players, in part for the twisted turns of the DM's mind and in part because of the outrageous chemistry between its greatest OTP, the party's beautiful bard and the Dark One, an anti-hero side-character who is there to provide information and uncomfortable levels of UST. Mr Gold thinks it's a harmless flirtation that could never become anything else, just like his silly little crush on the town librarian, Belle French.

He's wrong.

Rating: Explicit.

Author’s Note: Surprise, @argoslight​, it is I, your Gifter! Sorry to make you wait till near the end but I just had way more banter to write in me than I thought. I hope you enjoy your gift. I’m so sorry to not be able to add more D&D elements but since I don’t play I don’t have a lot of idea of what could be done. Also I apologise for any mistakes! And thanks so much to @little-inkstone for her help and D&D knowledge.

The castle was quiet when she entered, her steps echoing against the stone. It was gloomy inside, curtains obscured and decor sparse and sombre, the castle living up to its name. But there were flowers on the table, moon lilies, her favourite flower. They bloomed only in the Eastern Mountains past the Old Wall, but she had long since suspected he grew some on one of his enchanted hothouses, with the excuse of using them for potions. 

“Where’s the rest of your pretty little troop of do-gooders, dearie?”

The voice came out of nowhere, echoing around the empty halls of the castle. Thankfully she did not need directions, knowing exactly when to turn and where to go. Soon she found herself in a vast room, with a table on the centre and curios filled with oddities and the like. Some others were displayed on pedestals, including a rather fearsome sword and a nasty-looking crown made of thorns. None of the artefacts were what she sought, but she was not there to bargain for an item, but rather for information.

“Off on their own quests, taking care of other things that need doing.”

The voice tsked, seeming not to approve.

“They let you enter the lair of the beast alone? Some heroes.”

The woman lowered the hood of her cloak and walked towards the unlit chimney. Immediately a fire blazed to life, as if the castle itself was trying to cater to her comfort. The fire provided much-needed light as well, revealing the profile of a man in the shadows. Or something that looked like a man, at least, if not for the reflective scales that covered his body and its strange eyes: gold irises around catlike pupils.

“I asked to come alone. I felt like we could talk more openly this way.”

She removed her cloak, ostensibly to drape it across a chair near the fire and let it dry. The creature, however, seemed to read more into the gesture, tsking again.

“You come here all alone, a pretty little lamb, and take off the only real bit of protection you have. Reckless, dearie, most reckless.”

 The creature stood up, walking slowly towards the light, revealing more of its form as it approached her. Leather pants and a long, reptilian-looking vest and coat. It wasn’t particularly tall but power emanated from it in suffocating waves. She closed her eyes, finding his cloying presence strangely comforting. Then again, she had always been odd. 

“Once again your pitiful little party of friends needs my help. How they weigh you down, Beauty.”

He stepped fully into the light then, revealing a being more creature than man, the reptilian skin and claws as off-putting as his unnatural eyes. She should’ve taken a step back, should’ve gone for her blade or the dagger tucked into her left boot, but she didn’t. As much as she knew she shouldn't, she felt at ease in his presence. Well, perhaps not quite. She certainly felt a strange sort of anxiousness in his presence, a fluttery sort of feeling that she attributed to being particularly attuned to his magic. None of the other members of her party felt that way. If anything, he repulsed them, which wasn’t something she could understand. To her he was… magnetic.

“Are you in the mood for dealing or not? I can trade for information.”

He snorted.

“With what? Your little band of misfits is dirt poor. That idiotic paladin of yours ruined your last mission. You really should think about ditching the man. All brawn, no brains. At least your rogue is a smart woman.”

His gaze left her briefly, running down the length of her clothing: sturdy black boots, a nicely-cut dress that stopped around the knees and a sturdy belt with a few pockets for her spells. But the clothing, as well-made as it was, was dated, old. Looked worn and was signed and stained in places, and it left a lot of her frail human skin exposed. She had not been able to afford an upgrade in a while, preferring to spend her coin in what could benefit the group.

His moue of distaste disappeared once his eyes fell on her cloak. Well, his cloak, since he had been the one to make it. It was a lovely thing in varied shades of green, shot through with golden thread, his trademark. She had bought it off him a long time ago, a simple thing to keep her warm during cold nights and dry when it rained. Miraculously, though, it also did not sustain damage, looking exactly the same as when she had first put it on.

“I’m glad at least my protection is serving you well.”

He ran a claw along the seams of the cloak, making it glitter, like to like, magic calling for its own. He looked smug, as if pleased she was wearing something he had made.

“It does more than we bargained for. I’ve been blasted with magic strong enough to burn through most fabric but it has not even frayed. How strange of you, Rumplestiltskin, to lose out on a deal.”

He shivered when she said his name, walking behind her to the safety of the shadow she cast next to the fire.

“Can’t help it if my magic is just that powerful, my dear. I’m glad you are a happy customer. Always thought that cloak was a nice bit of magic. Can’t fault you for always wearing it.”

She felt him close in on her from behind, to the point that it almost felt like they were touching.

“It smells like you. That’s why I wear it all the time.”

The noise he made behind her was inhuman, a cross between a whimper and a growl. His claws scrapped against the back of her dress, the feeling muted by her stays, but she could feel his breath against the back of her neck and that alone was-

“Hey, this is a decent stream! Keep it PG for the kids, you weirdos.”

“Damn it, Grumpy, I wanted to see how long it would take them to snap out of it!”

“Sorry, Snow, but I ate a big dinner and I aim to keep it down.”

The messages in the chatroom wheezed by, mostly disgruntled complaints about their OTP never catching a break. The other participants in the stream were mostly silent, their mics muted likely to hide the amused snickers. There was no video feed on any of the members of the party, all of them represented instead by artwork to preserve their anonymity. Once upon a time that had been a fanciful choice, and perhaps a way to stay safe when interacting with strangers on the internet. Now it was mostly to keep their private lives from being overtaken by the popularity of their stream. “Tales of the Enchanted Forest” was shaping up to be one of the hottest D&D online streaming shows, already on its third campaign and counting.

“Beauty is just trying to get us some answers, Grumpy. We can’t just go stumbling about hoping to run into some fairy wand by chance.”

“Oh, it’s that what the kids are calling it these days?”

“Enough! Can we get back to the campaign already? It took me weeks to plan and it kinda hinges a bit on the Dark One helping, which needs to happen today.”

“Fine by me, dearie, if the dwarf can curtail his temper.”

The party was composed of five characters, a paladin, a cleric, a bard, a rogue and a thief, which along with the Dungeon Master made up the regular cast of every weekly stream. But given the popularity of the show, and the amount of time they had been playing, they had managed to amass a good amount of side-characters, guests invited every now and then to help the campaign move along and keep the interest of the audience. And by far the most popular of those guests was the Dark One, a wizard of unknown lineage and tremendous power that served both as an antagonist and a pseudo-ally depending on the situation. 

His presence was likely the reason why the livestream’s numbers looked so robust. He had amassed quite a fanbase, due in part to the commitment the player put on the character (the voice-acting was above and beyond what anyone could’ve expected from an amateur performer, and the backstory was quite complex, revealed in bits and pieces fans had meticulously assembled together) and in part to the chemistry he had managed to develop with the group’s bard, a half-human named Beauty.

“Okay, let’s all go back to what we were doing.” The DM’s voice was authoritative, though also more than a bit pissed off. “Okay, Beauty, you were about to try and cajole the Dark One to sell you the information you needed in return for a vial of water from Lake Nostos. Though the water is valuable, it’s not guaranteed to be enough to tempt the wizard. You have to roll at least a 13 in persuasion to make the trade. Roll when you’re ready.”

...

Rumford Gold stretched within the confines of the small backroom of his shop, where he had his computer stuff set up. Initially he’d bought the computer to better conduct his online business. His laptop at home wasn’t cutting it and it was better to photograph the antiques, update the website and handle the deliveries from his place of business. He had bought a good camera, some light fixtures and, on a whim, a microphone, for instances where he might need to virtually communicate with clients. It was something that was happening more and more, especially because a lot of his clientele was European. The internet had truly turned his antiquing- more of a hobby than a profession originally- into a profitable business.

He had gotten into watching D&D while waiting late at night for a client to become available in Austria. He had played as a lad, one of the few happy moments he could remember from his childhood in Glasgow, but had given it up once he had met Milah. And after they were over he had been too involved in making something of himself to remember past childhood enjoyments. But apparently D&D had evolved with the times and he had gotten into the habit of searching for and watching online D&D campaigns in his spare time. From that to actually being a side-character in one of them took almost no time. It was frightfully easy to go back to that frame of mind of playing make-believe, only now he had a distaste for the clean-cut heroic types and more of an affinity for the morally-grey, shady characters.

So he had auditioned for the role of evil-wizard when there had been an opening for a side-character in his favourite D&D stream, The Enchanted Forest. And though the DM had written what he considered to be a very flat, uninteresting character, he had been able to give it his own spin. He knew the DM hated him for it, hated when he deviated from what was expected of him, but people loved him. It was half the fun, pissing the DM off.

The other half, he had to admit, was Beauty. The one with the brains in the group, clearly, a half-human, half-fairy bard with an uncanny ability to think ahead, and arm herself with knowledge. Most of the other members of her party were more apt to try and decapitate something than negotiate with it, or even befriend it. Beauty prided herself on more of a gentle approach, which sometimes got her treated as the “fragile” one. He thought it just made her all the more interesting.

Their flirting had just kinda happened. He was half into it before he realised it had begun at all and by the time he had grown conscious- and self-conscious- of it fans were lapping it up and loving it. Even the DM, as loath as he was to admit it, found the banter engaging, even as if stole the spotlight from his story and where he wanted it to go. So every now and then he got invited into a stream, sometimes to interact with the whole party and sometimes, like the session he had just finished, to speak only to Beauty. And what was supposed to be a brief conversation before the party moved to greener pastures became a whole session, with the chatroom full of engagement and the view count off the charts.

But the DM had had a short tolerance span tonight, and had nipped things in the bud much sooner than usual. He felt… unfulfilled. Unsatisfied. Itchy, almost, in a way. So he was more than happy when he received an email from Beauty, who seemed to share his dislike of how the session had played out. They had started doing that more often, sharing emails after a session, even when he did not participate in it. It was harmless, he thought. Just an innocent online flirtation that could never realistically turn into anything. Not that his more in-person romantic overtures could ever pan out. He was in his third year of being completely smitten by the local town librarian, and in his second year of being able to put two words together in front of her without the help from Scotch, something he was perhaps a bit too proud of. And though he had decided very early on that the whole thing was utterly hopeless he had not been able to steer his thoughts or affections away. Realistically he was perhaps more in love with the idea of Belle French than the reality itself, given how little he had personally interacted with the woman. But he knew just enough to fill in the blanks and create a beautiful picture of how he imagined her to be: bookish- an easy assumption given how many times he had caught her in public places absorbed in a book-, kind, generous and delightfully able to hold a grudge and enact revenge when the time came. A bit reckless, and sometimes quick to form opinions, but also quick to revise them. A tactile person, with a great sense of fashion and a carelessness about what was expected of her.

He saw her in his head as clear as day, but little of that image was based on any personal knowledge of her. So, perhaps, he had found in Beauty a fictional substitute, someone he could talk to, and flirt with, without consequences, adopting the persona of someone more confident, more at ease with that sort of thing. The Dark One was comfortable in his skin in a way that he could only pretend to be sometimes. All the money and power he had accumulated over the years had helped him evolve from the spineless, cowardly lad he had once been, but when it came to certain situations, especially those that necessitated a level of vulnerability, he was still hopeless.

Perhaps, he wondered, it was better to think about his online liaison with Beauty as the real thing. They wrote to each other often, in and out of character, and over the course of their correspondence he had confided in her more than he had in any other person alive. Small things at first, every day peeves and details. Nothing that could identify them, certainly, but surprisingly intimate nevertheless. And over time it had grown to stuttering confessions and barings of the soul on both sides. She had told him of her teenage years in a mental asylum, the product of an overwrought widowed father trying to do right by his grieving daughter. He had had a few choice words to say about that, uncharitable thoughts about her father prompting his own willing sharing of the sad story of his childhood, neglectful father and all. It had felt nice, to confide in someone, someone he trusted.

He glanced at her email, where she lamented how their scene had not been as long or as satisfying as she had wanted, and saw she was proposing to meet later in a private stream to finish it the way they had both wanted. She had proposed something similar once or twice before and he had politely declined but now he wondered why not take her up on her offer. What was stopping him? His imaginary idea of Belle French, who in reality had never given him more than a polite smile in passing? Too young, too good, too beautiful to ever see him as anything other than an old cripple? Whatever he had built with Beauty felt infinitely more real, and attainable. A relationship without ever meeting in person seemed ideal in many aspects and, perhaps, if and when it came to meeting in the real world, his physical shortcomings would not be relevant, nor would it his rather uncharitable reputation.

He sent her a quick reply to arrange a meeting, feeling like a bit of roleplaying was, in the end, quite harmless. And if it were to lead to something a bit more meaningful, well, perhaps it was about time.

…

“Water from Lake Nostos. A key ingredient in most powerful potions and even some spells. I’m sure it could prove useful to you.”

The bard showed him the glowing crystal vial hanging from a long chain around her neck, with the glowing milky-white water from the cursed lake in it. He made a move to get closer to inspect it but the woman took a step back, tucking the vial back inside her bodice. The wizard’s eyes lingered there, hiz gaze growing intense. The bard felt her skin flush in response, something that felt a bit like fear but wasn’t running down her spine.

“And I’m sure a new wardrobe could prove useful to you, dearie. You’re practically wearing rags.” Rumplestiltskin made a show of running his eyes up and down her form with just enough disgust in his face to make it seem as if he was only noticing the rather sad state of her dress. 

“It’s my best gown, I’d thank you not to insult it.”

He made a moue of disapproval, shaking his head for good measure.

“You’re far from your days as a princess. I hope seeing the world is worth putting up with your band of idiots that waste most of the gold they earn with your wit in pointless goose chases that you know will lead nowhere.”

Beauty didn’t respond. There was nothing she could say to contradict what he thought of her party, none of which was charitable to say the least. And she also knew that he was aware that all of it was worth the freedom she had won when she had left her life in her father’s castle behind. She did miss one or two things, perhaps. Her mother’s vast library being one and, perhaps, some of the fashions. Not so much the silhouettes- she had never liked how the sea of petticoats she was always forced to wear restricted her movement- but the fabrics and colours, certainly. And the shoes.

“I’m here to make a deal, Dark One. Are you doing business today or not?”

Lesser creatures would’ve rather bitten off their tongues that throw cheek at the Dark One, but Beauty did not even bat an eye, lips curling in a defiant little smile that had the wizard smirking, something like admiration blooming in his chest. It’s what he loved most about his little bard, her spine of steel. And perhaps her blue eyes, but that was neither here nor there.

“I don’t do business with raggedy urchins, dearie. If you want to sit down and negotiate you’ll need a bath.” He made a face, as if he could smell her across the room. “And a change of dress, while I put your current outfit to wash… Or set it on fire, I haven’t decided yet.”

She could tell that he was pulling his punches, that he was playing at being repulsed by her state of dress and hygiene just bad enough that she would see he did not really mean it, not in any real way. She would’ve been able to tell either way, but it was nice that he thought it important to spare her feelings. And she couldn’t deny that a bath sounded heavenly after so many weeks on the road, sleeping out in the open and washing in freezing-cold creeks whenever possible.

“Well, if you insist…”

He took her to a well-lit and spacious bathing chamber, with the biggest copper tub she had ever seen, already filled with warm, soapy water that smelled of vanilla. She wasted no time after the door closed behind him, stripping quickly, careless of her worn and mended garments, and slipping into the tub. It was heaven on her tired muscles, and her dirty skin, and though she would’ve stayed there for hours she knew that every minute spent bathing was a minute less with the Dark One. Their time was limited. If she didn’t return to camp in the morning her party would venture into the castle, likely thinking the most dreadful scenarios. She could picture Charming attempting to kick the front gate open and getting hurt for his troubles. She could not let them worry for her, or risk the rapport she had developed with the Dark One by coming in unannounced. 

She got out of the tub with only a bit of reluctance and found a towel that she was convinced was enchanted to dry her faster than possible. She found clothing laid out in the adjoining dressing room, the undergarments soft and made of pale cream fabric and the dress of a lovely velvety, forest-green fabric, with a belt embroidered in small pearls that matched the detail about the neckline. She put it on gladly, twisting every which way to lace it up at her back. Living a less princessy life had made her acquire a number of small skills, including the ability to dress up mostly by herself even in gowns that did not lace up at the front, like most of her travelling clothes.

She did not spot her mauve travelling dress or her boots, but she was sure that Rumplestiltskin had whisked them away and would subtly mend them with magic, though she was sure he would deny it if she were to point it out. The green dress was accompanied by matching slippers, butter-soft and silent as they touched the stone floor. She made sure to dry her hair out, noticing how it shone red-gold in the flattering light of the candles, and took her time brushing it and styling it out of her face, so it fell flatteringly down her back. Her neck and most of her upper torso was bare but for the chain keeping the vial of water tucked safely against her breasts, the wide neckline of the dress dipping low enough to leave her collarbones bare, but she didn’t mind it. She was inside the Dark Castle, with the Dark One. She was safe there. On the road she always had to think about not attracting unwanted male attention. Here she rather felt like the opposite.

It was a silly infatuation, and many would argue any interest or desire on her part was due to the wizard’s power, which some would say was an aphrodisiac potent enough to make some look past the Dark One’s rather unfortunate exterior. No one would ever believe her if she confessed she rather… liked his appearance. The green-gold skin, the wild hair, the talons, but also the exquisitely-tailored pants and vests, the frothy cravats, the slim coats. A beast and a gentleman. A rather enticing combination, she had found.

She went downstairs into the trophy room once more, where two massive chairs were pulled up next to the roaring fireplace, the main source of light. The Dark One was sitting in one of them, a snifter gingerly held by a clawed hand, containing some sort of brown-gold liquid. He glanced at her the moment she entered the room, unwilling or unable to hide his appreciation for what he saw. He had removed his coat, leaving only his high-collared vest and one of his open shirts to cover his upper body, no forty cravat in sight. He seemed less guarded, more adventurous than he usually was when it came to matters of intimacy.

“You clean up well, dearie. Wish I could say the same for your dress. A wash will only do so much for it, but I refrained from throwing it into the fireplace. You’re welcome.”

“Good, as it’s not your property to destroy.” Beauty sat down, with a poise that betrayed her royal upbringing, and primly crossed her legs at the ankles. “So, Dark One, are you prepared to deal with me now?”

She had dealt with him dozens of times before, she had no idea why it all sounded so much like innuendo now. She couldn’t say she minded it.

“Of course, my dear. I’ve had time to think about our deal whilst you were splashing about in the tub.” His sing-songy voice broke, getting suddenly deeper for a second or two, as if he was struggling to retain his composure. “The vial is certainly a good start, but perhaps not quite enough. Now, I’m prepared to be generous given our long and fruitful history of dealmaking together, but I must also keep up certain appearances. So I thought I would also demand… an evening of your time.”

He tried to make it sound sinister, but she was past getting scared of him. At least in the traditional way. She raised an eyebrow, adopting a rather coquettish expression.

“And what would an evening of my time entail exactly?”

“Oh, well, you know. Companionship, perhaps a game of chess, some good wine, conversation and the like.”

She made a show of thinking it over before offering her hand, which he shook without delay.

“It’s a deal.”

Several hours later she had won two games of chess, one game of checkers, and was sipping from her third coupe of sparkling wine as she listened intently to a story about a deal the Dark One had once made with a king from a distant land. He was a gifted storyteller, engaging and funny, knowing exactly when to pause or gesticulate to keep the flow of the story just right. The king in his tale was rather unfortunate, in the sense that his hubris and arrogance had led him to make a deal with the Dark One that he did not understand. Most of Rumplestiltskin’s deals seemed to be like that, Beauty thought. And when he came to collect people dared be indignant that he demanded what they promised in the first place.

“The king was furious. Never let go of the grudge. Hired several assassins to try and kill me. A waste of gold, of course.”

He let out a trilling laugh, which soon proved to be contagious. Somehow, over time, it felt like their chairs had moved closer, because if she stretched out a hand she could easily touch him. Odd.

“Serves him right, for making such an open-ended deal. What a rookie mistake.”

She didn’t recall removing her slippers but she must have, because her feet were enjoying being pressed against the soft cushion of the chair. He made a gesture for her to lean close, which was a bit of a balancing feat, but she managed. Her heart skipped a bit when he leaned close too, almost pressing his mouth against her ear.

“You have no room to talk, sweet. You struck a very vague deal yourself, committing to an evening of conversation, chess ‘and the like’. That little turn of phrase is an invitation to all manner of sins, even the darkest and most decadent of debaucheries.”

He hissed the last part, making her shiver. Not content with letting him have the upper hand she turned her head so their lips were inches apart.

“That’s what I was hoping for.”

She could tell she had shocked him into inaction. Cocky Dark One, always in control of the conversation, always one step ahead of everyone else. It was nice to see him floundering, to catch him unprepared. Finally he gulped and put a little distance between them.

“Aren’t you the bravest little poppet.”

“My mother always said ‘Do the brave thing and bravery will follow.’ I’m a firm believer of the principle.”

Slowly, almost painfully so, both his hands clutched at the armrests of her chair, effectively pinning her to it. She knew she was supposed to be scared but she felt nothing but excitement, a buzzing just beneath the skin that made her strangely needy for something. Touch, perhaps, or more. The feeling was so overwhelming she did not realise at first that the laces of her dress were coming undone, as if invisible hands were painstakingly pulling them loose. She tried to make eye contact, but he ducked his head, pressing his face against the base of her neck, where it met her shoulder. She sighed, noticing how gentle he was, his touch feather-light, and discovering that she would not mind a rougher treatment. He was restraining himself, she realised, trying to be a gentleman. Sweet, but not what she wanted from him at that moment. Feeling bold Beauty carded a hand through his hair, pressing his face more firmly against her skin.

“Please, Rumple.”

Those two words seemed to have a magic of their own, producing a sudden and radical change in him. He moved too fast for her to see, wrapping her up in his arms and depositing her on the long dining table on the other side of the room. She did not know whether he used magic or simply moved inhumanly fast, but either possibility excited her, reminded her of the power of the creature looming over her, claws tugging at the unlaced bodice of her dress, dragging the velvet down to expose her undergarments. She was wearing the underbust corset he had provided over the snowy linen shift he had also left for her, so it was easy for him to simply tug the shift down a bit to expose her breasts. He leaned forward, nuzzling the space between her breasts, making a sort of satisfied purring noise as he sniffed up her clavicles and down her throat. Then, once he was happy with the level of squirming she was doing, he finally gave her what she wanted, closing his mouth, with all of its sharp teeth, around one of her rosy nipples. It was a strange feeling at first, more unfamiliar than pleasant, but when he began to suck it changed completely, little shocks of pleasure running from her nipple to between her legs. It was amazing, more than she had ever achieved with her own hands whenever she could get some privacy at night, and the feeling doubled when he grasped her untouched breast, his long claws estimulating the other nipple.

She sunk both her hands in his hair, fisting it in an effort to keep herself from squirming too much, feeling both aroused and impatient. She kept waiting for him to tire of her chest and move further down but when he was finally done sucking her nipples his head moved north, his lips blinding searching for hers till they were kissing. It wasn’t anything like any kiss she had experienced before, not even the unpleasant smack her former fiance had forced on her. Though it was just as forceful there was a wild quality to it, one she had never associated with the affectionate gesture. It was heavenly, the release of passion, far from cooling her down, setting her on fire, stoking her need for him till it felt like she would explode if he didn’t give her relief. 

He must have sensed it, her desperation calling to him like a siren song, because at some point he let go of her mouth to travel south, past her aching chest, and velvet-covered belly to where the skirts of her long gown kept her modestly covered. He wasted no time dragging the heavy fabric up, letting it pool around her hips along with the white linen of her shift. She did not have any other undergarments, having not been provided with any, so she was completely exposed to his gaze, from her milky things to her round hips. She squirmed, trying to picture what he must be looking at, the trim thatch of chestnut curls at the apex of her legs, obscenely drenched by this point and making a poor show of trying to hide the pink, glistening flesh beneath.

“What a lovely cunt you have.” His voice was dark, guttural, a monster trying to speak like a man. It thrilled her. “Let me drink from it, precious.”

He didn’t wait for her reply, choosing instead to simply bury his head against her flesh, his tongue rough and wide as it lapped at her field parting them to seek out the bundle of nerves that was throwing for attention. She arched her back, feeling like it was only her firm grip on her thigh and hip what kept her anchored to the table. She fell into a rhythm of sorts, her body seeking out something she could not find but his mouth striving to compensate, to give her what she needed. It was heavenly and seemed to last an eternity, the sensations building up till everything but them faded away, all sensations muted. She felt him move to, thrusting his hips against the edge of the table, making it rattle in a way that spoke of his sheer brute force. It was heady to have someone like Rumplestiltskin, who had always strived to don the mask of a gentleman around her, be so unhinged, so animalistic. More than anything it was that complete loss of control what drove her over the edge. She cried out, feeling her inner muscles coil and her senses spiral out of control, her orgasm leaving her dizzy. It seemed to last forever and not nearly long enough. She laid there for a while after the feeling passed, feeling satisfied and wanting at the same time. A few seconds later he also keened, slumping against her still-parted legs, his hair tickling the soft skin of her inner thighs.

They lay that way for what seemed like ages, while they scrambled to try and collect themselves. The afterglow did not feel awkward or uncomfortable, and it loosened up her tongue enough to venture out that she had hoped for an even more intimate act, a joining that was even deeper than what they had done.

 “A deal for such a prize would have to involve all my deepest secrets, my most valuable truths.” He paused, pressing his forehead against the silky inside of her thigh, like a penitent would. “One day, perhaps.”

...

“Do you want to meet? I think it’s time.”

The orgasm had mellowed him out, otherwise he was sure he would’ve at least panicked a little bit. But in the afterglow of what they had just shared, albeit virtually, a meeting did not seem like such a bad idea. In hushed voices they arranged the time and place, tomorrow at a café and bistro in Boston. Nice and public, for both their safety. They knew both lived near Boston, so it seemed natural to pick the city. The drive wasn’t too bad, and he hoped it wasn’t a great inconvenience to her either.

Reluctantly they said their goodbyes, both trying to prolong the moment a bit more till they were both close to nodding off. With a final, reluctant goodbye they both disconnected, leaving Gold to clean himself up and make his way home. With his rumpled suit, disheveled hair and five o’clock shadow it must have looked like the walk of shame. It certainly didn’t feel that way.

...

He woke up in a happy mood, perhaps the best in a long time. Far from feeling stupid or embarrassed about his little bit of roleplaying-turned-porn-session he felt smug, empowered by the notion that he had made a smart, desirable woman come with only his voice and imagination. He felt like he was on the brink of something, as if an exciting possibility was opening up for him. 

He went about his day with a bit of a spring in his step, though most citizens of Storybrooke would be pressed to notice. It was only when he saw the book on gardening he was due to return to the library that afternoon- his two Moth orchids had developed small water-soaked spots on the leaves and he had wanted to consult some verified sources instead of relying exclusively on Google search results- that his mood dampened somewhat. As nice as last night had been- bloody fantastic rather- it did make him sad, somewhat, to give up his crush on Belle French. However unattainable it was still nice to have it, that bit of feeling that did not need to be reciprocated to be real. It had been nice to feel something for someone for a change, to look forward to each smile and each small conversation. But it wouldn’t be right, and what he had now was more valuable in any case. Perhaps, with time, he would grow out of his infatuation with the librarian and they could be friends. That would be rather lovely.

He crossed the street towards the library around three o’clock, wanting to beat the rush caused by children being let off school, a busy time for one of the only kid-friendly places in Storybrooke. There were some patrons about, and the afternoon light made the library look truly beautiful. Miss French truly worked miracles with her limited budget.

He found her easily, shelving a few books in the poetry section, and tried not to preen when she smiled widely at him.

“Mr Gold, hi! Always a pleasure. Here to return a book?”

The librarian was always sunny and welcoming, but she looked even happier that day, an excited sort of energy practically rolling off of her in waves. Thank goodness he had decided to give up on his silly little crush, otherwise he might have buckled under the power of her brightness. 

“Yes. And you look particularly happy today, Miss French, if I might say so.”

The librarian smiled even more, if possible, and leaned close, as if to tell him a secret.

“I have a date tonight.”

It hurt, the slightest bit, the shock making him take a step back, but less than it would have yesterday. And perhaps, he reasoned, this would be good. This would put them both in the path of becoming friends, allowing him to leave his crush behind much faster. He forced himself to enquire politely after the lucky man, listening as she talked about someone she had been flirting with for a long time now, and it seemed like the relationship was finally ready for the next step.

“I’m really happy. And very nervous. It feels like such a risk, after all this time building something that could easily fizzle out with a first date. But I’ve always believed in doing the brave thing, and bravery will follow. It’s what my mother always said.”

She had turned back to shelve a book as she finished the last sentence, so thankfully she did not see his jaw drop and his eyes widen, his surprise so visible no one could’ve missed it. His heart lurched in his chest, sheer and sudden panic making it difficult to breathe. Fuck. Fuck. It wasn’t possible. Belle was Beauty. Belle was Beauty. He tried to contradict the notion in his head but he had known Beauty’s British accent was passable but fake, and it made sense for him not to have identified her voice when she usually spoke with her natural Australian drawl, something he associated so closely with her. Everything else he had ever found out about Beauty, in and out of the D&D setting, coincided with what he knew, or thought he knew, about the librarian, one of the reasons why he had developed a crush on her in the first place.

The initial shock was followed by a spike of elation and then a sinking feeling of dread. He needed to cancel. She would be disappointed, but more disappointed if he didn’t and she realised her crush was a man a good deal older than her that was known for being the town monster. It would be awkward and she would not be able to escape him after it, both doomed to meet each other often, given the small size of the town. He could not put her through that.

He stopped himself then, noticing the familiar dark turn of his thoughts, dipped in so much self-loathing it was almost stifling. And he wondered if he really was thinking about Belle or about himself. Being a coward, taking the easy way out. He thought about how he had woken up, the world full of promise and the future bright with the possibility of something great on the horizon. And how he had felt brave last night, to leap into something that had been so worth it. Perhaps it was time to be brave more often. Do something, however small. Put the ball in her court, somehow.

“I wish you the best of luck, then. Perhaps some other time, if you’re not too busy, you could pop into my shop. I have a few antique books I feel you would appreciate.”

It was a nice recovery, and he was happy to see her smile, apparently welcoming the proposition. Everyone knew Mr Gold’s shop was only to be entered when making deals. He didn’t really allow idle perusal of his stock and no one had the money or interest to buy his antiques. His business was conducted mostly with people from major cities on the East Coast.

“Wow, an open invitation to traipse into Mr Gold’s shop, that’s not something one sees everyday. What do you want in return? I hear only deals can grant you access to the shop.”

She made sure to make it clear she was joking, something he appreciated. Feeling emboldened by her kind gesture he adopted a slightly higher pitch and replied:

“Oh, nothing much. Companionship, perhaps a game of chess, some good wine, conversation and the like.”

Being close enough he got to see as it dawned on her, as her brain quickly processed what he had said and where she had heard it before. And he knew, knew because of the way she looked at him, as if she did not recognise him, as if he was a brand new person to her, that she understood the implication, what he had meant to tell her without actually telling her. 

“Hope to see you soon, then. Good luck with the date.”

He turned around before he could second-guess himself, feeling terrified by what he had exposed but satisfied at the same time. This way it was Belle’s choice to show up. For all she knew he had no idea that she was Beauty. She could make up an excuse and simply not meet her, and their worlds would never merge. If she did not want to pursue anything between them all she had to do is cancel the date, or not show up. He would respect her decision and never push for anything, or acknowledge their online relationship in the real world.

He sent her an email just as he was about to get into his car, letting her know that he understood that this meeting was a bit of a risk and he would understand if she backed out at the last minute. There were other things he could do in Boston, and he was not adverse to having dinner by himself. And they could still be friends, no matter what she decided. He was halfway to Boston when he heard his cell phone ping, letting him know he had a new email. As he expected, it was from Beauty:

“I’m on my way. Can’t wait to meet you! See you soon.”

He smiled.

[yan-twst]

yan-twst’s yandere twst base guidelines

long story short, i’m tired of not writing yan characters consistently so this is more so a guide for MYSELF to write them consistently. it’s not going to be 100% coherent or like, poetic, because this is moreso a reminder for myself to know how i’m characterizing these boys, but i thought i might as well post it so everyone has an idea how i work with yan characters

warnings: death mentions, general yandere content, mentions of verbal and physical abuse, non consensual drug use, you know the drill

riddle rosehearts is desperate for control and affection. his mommy issues make him seek out the sort of coddling and care he never got from his mother, and at the same time makes him want to establish he’s the one in charge to feel safe. he is easily jealous, doesn’t mind getting his hands dirty if it’s for his darling. he can be manipulated by them in his weaker moments, but he’ll usually be able to tell when they’re trying to use him and retaliate. he wouldn’t be opposed to letting those he trusts oversee his darling. he’ll keep his darling in his dorm; they may be allowed to roam around with trey or maybe cater, but riddle fully expects them to only go out when he’s there.

ace trappola is sadistic and a bit immature. he likes to make his darling’s life hell, tear them down and make them cry until he’s the one who comforts them (not very well). he’s the standard “little kid teasing his crush in the playground”, except way more violent. ace trusts nobody with his darling- he’ll use threats and violence to get them to stay away. he mocks his darling for being weak. ace can’t really keep his darling locked up due to his dorm situation, but his verbal abuse and manipulation are enough to keep them silent about how he treats them

deuce spade is conflicted but selfish. his past as a delinquent makes violence come easily to him, and he might hurt his darling in an outburst of anger. likewise, he’ll get rid of people he thinks are “getting too close” to his darling with threats of physical violence, and he’ll easily make good on those threats if prompted. the idea of locking them up isn’t something that comes up naturally (besides, he can’t really do that), but he’s always waiting for his darling in the door of their dorm in the mornings and drops them off, making sure they aren’t wandering off. he has bouts of extreme sweetness, talking about how they “changed him”, bringing them flowers, making them meet his mom- a big contrast to his violent tantrums, but his sweetness is enough to make his darling think he might stop hurting them (and also fear of what he could do if they broke up with him)

trey clover is a manipulator. he doesn’t really need fancy tricks or strength to make his darling stick by his side. the fact everyone sees him as a friendly and helpful man means nobody questions his actions too much. he pushes his darling to act the way he wants them to, usually gaslighting them or guilt tripping them into doing as he wishes. trey will not lock up his darling, at least not in school, but he’ll make them feel like they aren’t allowed to talk to anyone or interact with anyone other than him. he’ll also freely twist his darling’s words to make people who try to get close to them stay away

cater diamond needs to be told he’s loved, be told he’s good. he craves to have a close connection to somebody, and he’s just not used to feeling so attached to someone. he’ll use lots of blackmail to keep his darling obedient. whether he kidnaps his darling or not depends on how easily he can do so: if they’re the MC, he might not do so, since he craves to take pictures and show the world who he’s dating, and if he kidnapped them and published those it’d be too obvious. however, his blackmail makes it enough that his darling doesn’t dare go against him. cater won’t use violence to get rid of “rivals”, but he’s very much willing to use rumours and blackmail to ruin them

leona kingscholar wants both a plaything and someone to treat him like a king. he will make his darling feel weaker and inferior to him, but he’ll also seek comfort in them. leona has no trouble using some physical violence to keep his darling in their place, nor does he have qualms in killing people who he sees as a threat. luckily, it takes a lot to get him to that point, since he’s quite lazy about the effort it takes to kill. he fully expects his darling to pamper him, but he often makes allusions that once he sets a life for himself, they’ll be his “queen” of sorts. ruggie absolutely knows this is going on, and leona will let him be around his darling once in a while, as long as he knows his limits. lots of jealousy towards his brother- mentioning him is a surefire way to get beat black and blue

ruggie bucchi wants someone to call his own. he’s possessive and jealous, and he’ll do all he can to make them be his. he treats them more like property than as a lover sometimes. at the same time, he’s very much a needy lover, and he’ll be whining and keening for constanta affection. physical violence isn’t usual in his darling, but he has no issue getting rid of others- he’s very, very good at getting rid of the body. he keeps his darling locked in his room out of jealousy, and he’s got no problems with using his unique magic to make them give him affection

jack howl feels bad about how he feels but ha can’t stop himself. he rationalizes that he’s “protecting” his darling from the outside world, seeing them as weak and helpless compared to him. he scales up slowly in his obsession, starting from walking them around to locking them in his room. he thinks his darling is being thankless for not appreciating his worry. jack will not use physical violence on his darling, but he might make empty threats just to make them understand he’s stronger. jack will be hesitant to kill for his darling, however if he gets mad enough and if someone seems to be trying to rescue them or contact them, he might snap

azul ashengrotto is desperate to be reassured. he often cries and guilt trips his darling, asking them to assure him he’s good enough for them. the way he treats his darling wildly varies on his mood; when he’s feeling confident he’ll use smooth talking and act in a way so gentlemanly it might be able to temporarily make them forget their situation, but when he’s in the deep end of his insecurities he’s all screams and tears. when he’s out of his mind, he might leave bruises on his darling, but it’s more of a lack of control than a desire to hurt. he lets the leech twins around- under his watch- and makes them make sure his darling doesn’t think of escaping lest they be hunted by the eels. he’ll absolutely use a contract to take away his darling’s magic, and by extension take away the magic of anyone he sees as a “threat”. likewise, he’ll sic the twins onto the “threats” 

jade leech is sadistic but calculating. he wants his darling to be dependent on him and him alone. upon kidnapping them, he makes sure to treat them nicely; bringing them warm food, physical comfort, etc. of course he also punishes quite liberally: however, he’s always careful in how he does it. he either makes it out to be entirely his darling’s fault so that he’s not “the bad guy”, or he might send in floyd to make them suffer. either way, jade is always the one to comfort them, and make them associate his presence with being well. jade absolutely keeps his darling locked up, and while he doesn’t like them being alone with someone else, he does let floyd or azul see them sometimes, maybe for dinner or something. jade has no problem killing to teach his darling a lesson, but he’s more often lowkey and clean about it

floyd leech does whatever he pleases. it doesn’t take much for him to decide to take his darling and force them into his room into the role of a toy for him to squeeze and bash around. floyd’s darling is always bruised and injured in some way- floyd sometimes treats their wounds, sometimes jade drops by to treat them, but he’s too rough for them to heal entirely. floyd rejoices in his darling’s tears and missery: he isn’t going to comfort them or try to make them love him, but rather demand they act how he wants when he wants and hurt them to get that. he’ll happily kill anyone his darling even as much as seems to think of- and he’ll also be very happy to show his darling the corpse and the gore to make them cry and sob

kalim a-asim truly doesn’t want to do his darling wrong. at first it’s his worries over his darling’s safety that makes him take action and lock them in the dorm; he prepares a room for them, lavish gifts and whatnot. kalim seems to be trying to buy his way into his darling’s heart, believing his actions can be forgiven with enough repentance (but not giving up what he’s gotten). although kalim would never harm his darling, he’ll chain them up so they can’t run, believing he’s doing the best. while kalim loathes violence and death, if he truly does believe it’s “needed”, he might pay his family’s assassins to silently get rid of threats, but he’ll be very careful to keep this a secret from his darling. talks a lot about the future and how he’ll marry his darling and how good life will be

jamil viper wants to be, for once, the most important person to someone. he wants to be seen for all he is and congratulated, worshipped. his obsession starts with being praised and given attention, and suddenly he wants more. jamil has no issue using his unique magic to keep his darling locked in his room and acting as he wants; however, he wants them to act like that out of their own accord. punishments may be verbal or physical, but in the end, he wants his darling to act like they love him without him having to hypnotize them. there’s a fair chance jamil will let kalim know about the situation, albeit word it in such a way kalim believes jamil’s darling is actually a willing lover and lend him an extra room to keep them in or something. jamil will try to avoid getting blood on his hands, but if he sees that it’s going to be better off it he kills people who may try to release his darling or expose him, he’ll gladly remove them from the scene

vil schoenheit finds peace in having someone to control and fuss over. his day to day life is very busy, always having something to do, something to study, maintain his image and his grades and his job. when it comes to his darling, vil feels relaxed when he can simply pamper them like a doll: to have some absolute control for once. he prides himself in how he “polishes” his darling. vil will use any sort of potion, from potent love potions to numbing or calming draughts to keep his darling dumb and pliant under his care. because he believes that hard work means doing everything needed, vil will easily use untraceable poisons to get rid of those he thinks are trying to tarnish his darling. he doesn’t care if the love he’s being showered with comes from a love potion, as long as he feels like he’s being entirely appreciated for who he is (and not just who the world sees him as). he’d trust rook enough to stay around and watch over his darling, but usually he’ll just keep them in his room, knowing full well the potions make them too docile to hurt themselves or make a big mess

rook hunt loves all things beautiful and thinks of his darling as a muse. he’s the very image of the stalker who watches his darling through their day, stealing trinkets and making a small “shrine”, taking creepshots, and sending anonymous letters with enough detail to make his darling scared. he builds up the “fear” (in his mind, he’s just elongating the hunt, making it a game) until he finally catches them and takes his prize home. rook has no problem letting vil know he’s keeping someone locked in: honestly, this isn’t too surprising, and as long as he doesn’t cause trouble, vil might be willing to supply love potions and such to keept he ruckus down. still, rook much prefers to “tame” his darling the natural way- with fear, punishment, and reward. he’ll often make them think they have a chance to escape only to catch them later, crushing their spirits

epel felmier wants to be told he’s strong, he’s manly, he’s his darling’s one and only. he’s grown up seeing the traditional quiet marriages of the people back in his village, and he fully believes he’ll play the role of the supporting, strong, capable man to his darling, meanwhile they’ll be his domestic and pliant spouse (regardless of his darling’s gender). he may use his innocent appearance to fool them into his trap, and then use any means possible to keep them, from mild poisons in food he brings to spells that make their body lock up. he luckily isn’t one for physical punishments, but that can change if his darling tries to insult him or imply he’s effeminate or weak. 

idia shroud is a creep. he spies on his darling with the campus security cameras, he sends small drones to spy on them sleeping, when he dares venture out to the campus he nervously pockets their belongings and builds a literal shrine to them. he might even use ortho to lure them into his room- and once they seem to trust him just a little, he strikes and keeps them locked inside. idia is so very aware his darling thinks he’s a weirdo and a creep, but he still wants their affection. idia may force his darling into cosplays of his favourite characters, using empty blackmail threats or threatening to somehow hurt or sabotage the people they care about using his borderline horrifying technological creations. he even uses ortho as leverage, telling them that if they keep acting that way and crying they’re going to worry the small child who sees them as another sibling figure

malleus draconia has never felt this way before and all he knows is he feels a need to keep and protect. his dragon’s instincts are to hoard his treasure, and his darling is the most precious thing to him. malleus keeps his darling captive as part of that hoarding instinct, although he does crave genuine love and becomes frustrated and angry when he doesn’t receive it. if he’s angered enough, malleus might have outbursts where his darling is seriously hurt- although he’ll be very guilty later. he’s very, very jealous of anyone who gets close to his darling, and he really might turn them into a pile of ashes if they irk him wrong. he has his guards and lilia making sure his darling doesn’t run away, although more often than not that’s not even possible with the sleeping curses he puts on his darling while he’s away

lilia vanrouge has been alive for long enough to know he can get away with pretty much anything, and so he really won’t hold back. he’s a sadistic lover, but more than teasing or being mean it’s sometimes him downright enjoying his darling’s pain and misery. he has enough experience to know exactly what to do to make his darling do what he wants without them even realizing they’re playing right into his tricks, and if not, he’s never afraid to come back home a little bit bloody and make his darling guess who he got rid of because they refused to behave. lilia can keep his darling about anywhere; he’s experienced enough with teleportation magic to switch back and forth from NRC to wherever he pleases, but it’s more likely he’ll keep them in his dorm room so he can “play family” with malleus, silver, and his unwilling darling. 

silver is just doing what his heart tells him, unaware his love is an obsession. being raised by fae, he isn’t 100% of how human romance and courtship works, and it doesn’t really help his parental figures are either clueless in love or twisted enough to encourage his obsession. silver doesn’t want to punish his darling or bring them harm, but he’s ruthless on those he thinks are threats or are trying to tear him and his darling apart. malleus and lilia let him keep his darling locked in diasomnia, even offering to help keep them locked in when silver falls victim to his sleep. of course, the one thing silver wants is affection and warmth- the kindness and sweetness with which he treats his darling are so contrasting to how ruthlessly he kidnapped them that it’s almost painful to see his sad face when they refuse to embrace him

sebek zigvolt is mad. he’s mad that someone is causing him to be confused and distracted, that he can’t properly protect malleus because his heart is going wild at the thought of some silly human. he takes this anger out on his darling; they think he hates them, at first. but the stares, the blush, the fact he’s stealing their personal belongings, smelling their sweaters he stole before he goes to sleep tell another story. and yet he’s mad; when he kidnaped them, he locks them up, telling them he’s punishing them for distracting him. over time, he’ll give in, once his thirst for affection and for holding his darling override his initial anger. but that won’t change much- he’ll still be controlling, very violent when angered, despite him drinking up their praise and basically begging for their affection