#i am always Sinning
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The enemy of my enemy is.. probably also my enemy. But we can pretend to be fiends for the time being.
Also known as; Please give us Infinite too I miss him. :<
Bonus doodle because I have always thought Mephiles' darkness puddles looked oh-so ooey-gooey-
I make the Jackal suffer for the intrusive thoughts I have about things I will never have to experience the touch of personally thank goodness.
#sonic fanart#sth#infinite the jackal#mephiles the dark#minturts#almost forgot to post here why do I always forget about tumblr#you can tag this as a ship if you want I do not mind#make the edgy shadow haters gay for each-other I'm all for it#also that is the best I have ever drawn Infinite's mask methinks in that first picture#It is very Shape I like how it turned out :3#I have never drawn Mephiles before this I am sorry if he looks wonky#he made me suffer for my sins worry not#I gave. up. on his legs. VERY fast. those are improv legs. I am sorry Mephile leg lovers
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â And do you or do you not have difficulty remembering such simple instructions? â Only during thunderstorms, sir.
THE SOUND OF MUSIC (1965) / DARK SHADOWS (1966)
#don't mind me just absolutely insane about the possibility (probability!) that vicki saw tsom the year before coming to collinwood.#the boom mic in the stairs shot is always cracking me up.#finally me and you and you and me just us and your friend steve (the boom mic operator)#⤠roger collins & victoria winters. â pain sometimes precedes pleasureďźmiss winters.#gifs.#⤠edits & art. â the evans cottage art gallery.#⤠roger collins. â I and my ghosts want a drink.#⤠victoria winters. â because sheâs lost and lonely. because she looks in shadows.#there's obviously far; far less of a christian overtone in ds â but i wonder if you couldn't make the argument that it isn't also#on some level about belief?#belief; namely; in the ghosts that roger resists and vicki with both arms embraces;#faith in the not-so-minor deity liz stoddard; choosing to follow her doctrine even in the face of conflicting truth.#one might consider collinsport a faithful congregation taking sermons from the mount â from the mouth of the reclusive ascetic;#conveyed by loyal (devastatingly; sacrificially loyal) disciples.#and vicki; searching for belonging; for a home; for a family; falls very lamb-like into the flock.#all old gods of course demand their sacrifices in blood: burke; namely; but also matthew; bill; roger (so-attempted)#if i were pushing it (which I always am) you could go so far as to say collinwood's son rises from the tomb.#''but the day of the Lord will come as a thief in the night'' etc etc. demanding; first; sacrificial livestock; then virgin blood.#anyway! I digress.#''they say confession is good for the soul. well; my soul needs purifying.''#vicki as the prototypical virgin â the clean slate without history; clear water with neither dirt nor blood â#in which roger cleanses himself (somewhat forcefully!); to wash away guilt and suspicion;#the force of virtue that prevents the intrusion of sin; either through the wood of the confessional or very literally at her bedroom door.#''an innate sense of goodness'' etc; besides being something of a conduit between this world and the next:#re. the seances; the appearances of josette and bill; the various and varied encounters with supernatural; the time travel;#as one might expect of an angel ... or a saint. and one could argue that she goes on to restore roger's faith â#if not in the goodness of the world at large; then the existence of goodness; or in the worth of belief itself.#anyway. long way of saying i love man x his governess whether it's catholic or satanic. sign me up.
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Happy Pride month everyone B*) Allow me to reveal a little behind the scenes detail behind my Banner and Icon. Love was always winning <3
#I don't know what to tag this one to be honest#probably a#delete later#I have made a solemn promise that any icon and banner for this blog must be done in a pair. They Cannot Be Separated.#They have had too much of that already#But yes; they have always been together on the same canvas#they originally were just barley not holding hands so I fixed it <3 love wins#I'm hoping to change them out every new season I start so these guys are probably in their last month of life B'*)#can you believe wwx used to have different bangs? blasphemy#Once again throwing out meta content so I can make up for the fact I am running on fumes#starting out pride month by engaging in another sin (sloth (I slept for more than my usual 4-5 hours (this blog functions on insomnia)))#comic tomorrow cause the next batch is 90% done I literally just ran out of time.#I'm in a toxic relationship with The Grind but in a homoromantic/erotic way.#We (the grind and I) would have long metas written about how we are bad lgbtq rep and spark heated debate within the community.
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âš .+ Tag Game Rules: Shuffle your on repeat playlist and post the first 10 tracks, then tag 10 people. á
âš .+
Take Me Back To Eden - Sleep Token
Divine Service - Lies of P OST
Bones - Equinox
Turncoat - Matthew Mayfield
Suffer - Hurts
Magdalene - Akira Yamaoka
Roxanne - Sting
Wing of Hypocrisy - Lies of P OST
Hail the Nightmare - Bloodborne OST
Yawning Grave - Lord Huron
á
âš .+ tagged by: @hymntosappho + @aligom-pink-coffin ⨠Thank you both! I love lil dash games like these omg á
âš .+ tagging: @harena-tigris, @ghostlyanon, @00x7, @bornetoblood, @butchladymaria, @galaxirin, @treeshrine, @karnaca78, @dulaman-na-farraige á
â¨
#sin speaking#(im late to the party so excuse me if anyone has already done this I just picked out some buddies and familiar faces in my notifs wehhh)#(i love to see everyones music libraries tho i am always looking for more music)#(no pressure to do it regardless tho ofc!!!)#(despite some of my frustrations with lop the soundtrack is straight burnin FIRE)#(90% of my playlist is game music tbh)#(is it my fault my goth games have the best soundtracks? I DONT THINK SO!!!)#(and therefore all my muses playlists have the same vibe afdlffkdkgldl)
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pride, wrath, sloth, gluttony, greed, lust, ao3
Seven Deadly Sins Series (NSFW 18+)
envy (noun) - a feeling of discontented or resentful longing aroused by someone else's possessions, qualities, or luck.
Logically, Steve knows it's not real.
He knows that.Â
He knows Eddie loves him and that this is all work.
That doesn't make it any easier to watch supermodels hang all over his boyfriend. See lipstick stains pressed all over his neck, and jeweled hands dragging all over his body.
Eddieâs pretty, lazy smile doesnât help either.Â
Steveâs spent the better part of the morning sitting in a secluded corner of this studio and watching Eddie bark instructions at his manager and his bandmates and even the camera crew.
The video was going to be great, no doubt. The song was already amazing.
But couldnât this shoot have been a little lessâŚ
He doesnât know.
All he does know is that he would give anything to be in those girlsâ place.
Itâs not that he wants to be in the video. He doesnât like that attention.
Itâs not even that he wants to stake his claim over his boyfriend.
He just wants people to know.Â
That Eddieâs taken. That heâs his.
But he canât. And he knows that. Knows itâs not smart. That Steveâs got too much riding on his teaching career to be publicly linked to famed sex-symbol musician Eddie Munson.
It doesnât make him want it any less.
Doesnât make him not want those vinyl-covered legs around his waist. Ringed fingers tugging at his hair.Â
But instead he sits. And he watches.
The ride home that night is tense. Steve feels it. Heâs pretty sure their driver feels it if the lowered music and open window are anything to go by.Â
No matter how hard he tries to shake it, the jealousy has dug its claws in deep. It's scratching at his chest and making him itch. Making him feel like heâs going to jump out of his skin.
But here Eddie is stretched across the seats and is smoking out the window without a care in the world.Â
Cool it Steve. Youâre being ridiculous.
He squeezes his eyes shut and tries to will the feeling away. But with his eyes closed he sees hands. Lipstick. Smiles that are all teeth.
He throws his head back with a groan as the driver opens the door when theyâre home.
Finally.
Theyâre hardly through the door when Steveâs got his hands on him.Â
Got his hands shoved up over his head and his tongue in his mouth.
Eddie gasps against his lips, and thereâs a question in the sound to which Steve responds âMine.â
He feels Eddieâs hands shoving at his chest and he sees his eyebrows scrunch up in concern.
âSteve, what's wrong?â He asks and Steve hates that.
Hates that heâs worried about Steve and all he is is jealous.
He grabs both sides of Eddieâs face and thumbs at a bit of lipstick thatâs still smudged against his cheek. Feels that jealousy flare up green and ugly once more.
He shakes his own head and furrows his brows when he whispers a quiet, shy, âDonât like them touching you like that when I canât.â
Eddieâs eyes soften and his own hands wrap around Steveâs wrist and he hums.
âYeah, I know you donât sweetheart,â he purrs, moving his arms up to wrap around Steveâs neck. âGot me all to yourself now though, hm?â
And maybe it's not right the way Eddie enables him. Maybe it's not healthy, maybe it's not good.
But it digs its claws in again and this time has Steve grabbing Eddie around the waist and hoisting him up and over his shoulder before stalking off toward their room.
He huffs a laugh through his nose and digs his fingers into the back of his thigh. âSure do baby. And Iâve got nothing but time.â
*****
A few minutes later has Eddie naked and writhing against the sheets as Steve torments him.
Heâs got a cold cloth to scrub at the marks left on Eddieâs skin followed by Steveâs teeth leaving a mark of his own.Â
By the time Eddieâs chest is marred with bruises heâs got his head thrown back in the pillows and his breathing is ragged.
Steve crawls back up his body and captures his lips with his own. It's all force, all teeth, all love.Â
He brings a hand up to tilt Eddieâs chin higher and he whines in return. Steve smirks down at him and tilts his head in question.
âWhoâs are you, baby?â
Eddie gasps and grabs at Steveâs hips grinding down against his own.
âYours, Stevie. Fuck, Iâm yours baby.â
Steve kisses him once more, all chaste and sweet before heâs back up on his knees.
And if Eddie enables his jealous streak, Steve enables his love of being manhandled.
âLegs up, babe,â he says and Eddie has the nerve to blush.
But then Steveâs got his hands in the creases of his thighs and drags him up and over his own lap and Eddie groans from deep in his chest.Â
Steve laughs. âThose pretty girls canât do all this, huh?â
Eddie rolls his eyes but heâs smiling and heâs so, so pretty like this. Covered in Steveâs bruises and hard against his stomach. Skin soft and marked with ink where heâs stretched out all for Steve to take.Â
Steve loses himself a little in the sounds and the feeling of opening him up on his fingers. Always goes a little cross-eyed watching how much Eddie lets himself feel.
But then he sees Eddie slide a hand down his own chest to wrap around his dick and Steve snaps back into reality in an instant. He bats Eddieâs hand out of the way and shushes his affronted scoff.
âThought you were all mine, sweetheart. That means this is just for me,â he purrs on an upward tug and a deep slide in.
Eddie rolls his eyes but grabs at his shoulders and drags him forward.
âThen fucking come on then, or Iâll find somebody else to fuck me.â
And he knows it's not real.
He knows that.
But it flares up green anyway and heâs got his teeth sunk into Eddieâs neck and his own hips pressing into him. In the back of his mind he can hear the pleased hiss that Eddie doesnât manage to hold back, but the forefront of his head is louder, saying âMine, mine, mine.â He thinks maybe his mouth is too.
Once again he loses himself in the feeling. In the tight heat of Eddieâs body and the circle of his arms around his neck. In the words he can feel Eddie whispering in his ear but canât decipher. In the knowledge that they can look and they can touch but they canât take from Eddie Munson. Not like Steve can.
He drags himself back down in time with a whine from the back of Eddieâs throat and snakes a hand back to tug him off.
Eddieâs eyes are watery and they sparkle deep and dark when they blink up at him. He tangles his hands in Steveâs hair and he presses his nose up against Steveâs own.
ââM all yours sweetheart,â He gasps in time with a deep grind of Steveâs hips. âIâm all yours and nobodyâs gonna take that away.â
If Steve wasnât on the cusp of an earth-shattering orgasm he might have something sweet to say. But as it is, heâs still a little wrapped up in the ugly green feeling of jealousy, and it has him tugging Eddieâs hips back sharp and hard with a near-growl of âNobody gets this but me.â
He thinks Eddie says something back before heâs coming up his own chest but Steve canât hear it over the rushing white noise of release.Â
When his breathing slows back down and his head is no longer spinning with lips and teeth and hands Eddie drags a hand through his hair where heâs laid against his chest.
âHey baby?â He asks.
Steve hums in response.
âDo you know why our shoot took so long today?â
His brows furrow in confusion and he props his chin up against his hand.
âWhat do you mean?â
Eddie smiles at him, pretty and lazy, and Steveâs favorite.
âVideo shoots usually only take a few hours. We were there all day because I couldnât get my head on straight. They had to retake that close-up shot nine times because I couldnât keep my eyes off you.â
And that's just Eddieâs flattery at work. Steve rolls his eyes but he insists.
âIâm serious, Stevie! You think you can sit in on my shoot with girls climbing all over me looking soooo cool and soooo handsome in your ass jeans and my shirt and Iâd be thinking about anything but you? Yeah fucking right, man.â
He feels his cheeks blush pink and he drops a kiss to Eddieâs collarbone.
âI love you,â he whispers.
Eddieâs smile is blinding and his dimple is deep. âI love you back, sweetheart. Youâre all thatâs ever on my mind.â
#steddie#steddie fic#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie smut#seven deadly sins series#envy#absolutely cannot BELIEVE that envy won that poll with the way things were going#but here we are#minors DNI#todays filthy smut post brought to you by gin watching ratatouille#this one features famous eddie!#I am a switch steddie truther but I've never actually written it#I am being so brave writing bottom eddie#everybody clap#as always#not proofread#come get y'all juice#gin writes
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Fantasy Tails
Messing around with magical biology with some rough sketches and lore :) Tagging some who might be interested :3
@librathefangirl @zorria @7-ratsinatrenchcoat @theprinceofliones @stvrlightthearts
Demon
Another take on the traditional (?) demon tail! The heart on the end protects the demon's retractable, venomous (or just very pointy) barb.

Tails, venomous and nonvenomous, are used for balance, especially while the demon is maneuvering in mid-air. whether they are jumping or flying. flight. They're deceptively strong even though their mechanisms seem delicate and the fluff covering them doesn't appear as tough as the rest of the demon's skin. A younger demonâs tail reaches full size before they reach their adult height. Coloration depends on the demonâs primary colors, including features like hair, eyes, teeth, skin, and tongue.
Tail venom develops during late adolescence- an evolutionary process that serves two purposes. One, that the baby and toddler cannot injure its parents, itself, or its other potential packmates with a potent and uncontrolled poison. Second, that the toxin may adapt to whatever might suit the demon best as it grows. Environmental conditions are thought to play a direct role. High-level demon venom has no âantidoteâ because it, structurally, is one-of-a-kind; antivenom would require an (albeit slightly) different formula even between identical twins. There are three official categories this venom can fall into: defensive, offensive, and constructive. Some demons will inject their venom into themselves or other demons on a circumstantial basis to help, not harm! A few toxins specifically adapt to treat a temporary condition their demon frequently suffers from- for instance, to treat extreme insomnia or muscle cramps, to dissolve abscesses from the inside, or to reset one of the bodyâs natural cycles. Level of toxicity can fluctuate throughout the demonâs lifetime.
Goddess
Goddessesâ legs are built for flight - not just for landing - they are very strong!Â
Feathers all along the tail can fan out and adjust individually, though, of course, the tail end has the most maneuverability. For potion recipies requiring the physical essence of a goddess feather, it is not usually specified whether it need be a tail or wing feather. Instead, the recipe will reference a specific altitude or bloodline. The wings and tails of goddesses contain special adaptations per their homeland and family line. A feather separated from the body of some goddess species becomes serrated and sharp like a blade, for instance, and these contain a potent defensive energy. Coloration also depends on place of origin and closely resembles that of the wings.Â
While aiming for the wings is considered a legitimate battle tactic, aiming for the tail is considered an extreme insult and foul play, a sentiment largely reciprocated and respected by the Demon Clan.Â

Fairy
The creatures known as fairies / fae / faerie display immense biological and magical diversity and that's fascinating to work with, so I added them to the list for funsies.
A fairyâs tail begins as a simple prehensile limb and grows into a symbol of the fairyâs power as they mature. In their base form, tails are most often used in dancing and in daily nonverbal communication. Fully awakened fairiesâ tails transform in the likeness of their wings, sprouting insect-like appendages which greatly increase the speed and maneuverability of the fairyâs flight. For those of the highest ability, it becomes near-impossible to disorient them or to knock them from the air.
Some examples I thought up!
#fantasy biology#thanks to everyone who listened to me not be able to get this out of my mind#this felt like an odd fantastical element to go in depth on .but hope y'all enjoy anyway#just imagine everyone holding tails like they're holding hands if you're confused#doing it for the fluff as always#I also think it would be really amusing if there were like 5 species of fairies living in the Fairy Realm#pixies. those guys who take your names. those of you who read fae stuff know what I mean. for reference I don't and am intrigued#fairies#goddesses#nnt#nanatsu no taizai#seven deadly sins#sds#demons#lore#hihopelessromantics writes a thing#and draws for once#fairy clan#demon clan#goddess clan#fae#faeire
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about to go sleepyy but. Insane Kenix Thoughts (Again! An Another Time!) (How Many Fucking Times!â ^_^)
Something about Kenix comforting Sora the day she joined the sins crew while she was full on crying and confused at everything surrounding her. Something about him Resonating with a child's helplessness, offer a warm embrace to hold onto. Did you see your own past self in that girl? The days where you were left all alone in the dark, being able to only weep and wonder why everything around you was like this. Yet you had no one's shoulder to cry onto. You had no one by your side, and now you have decided to be that someone for an another lost kid. Have you seen your own desperation in that child, wanting to help her because deep down you know how scarring this situation is for her? To seek comfort despite the unknown environment, because you wanted someone to let you know it is safe?
Have you wanted to save someone from what you had to endure yourself because you just knew how deeply terrifying it must all be to experience such loneliness at a young age? Have you just wanted to not let someone else go through what you had to? Have you just wanted to show the lost child that compassion that you didn't get yourself when you needed it the most.
#Something Something he makes me Incredibly ill. I can't.#this is how you become a father! (Accidentally!) (By presenting yourself as a safe and a parent-like figure to a child who needed comfort!)#this is like a mini rant because i am still writing for that ask enabling me to talk about azranix ^_^#kenix may be deemed merciless. But he still shows care for others. So many of his actions are rooted in his care for others' wellbeing.#Yes a lot of his actions are terrible and cannot be excused. But most. If not All. Of his interactions with others in the sins crew#Are so deeply rooted in his concern for them and their health. At first you won't even realize but then you learn it and look back at it#and just think âWow he genuinely cared about them despite never stating it or making it obviousâ#âOh it is part of my plan ^_^â no i think we all know you tried your best to ensure that your little girl was safe because of That.#this is not part of your mastermind ass plan you genuinely just care about the kid but your facade now has you thinking that this is not-#Important. When it clearly Is. Sora's safety is important to you. Everyone's safety is important to you to some degree.#do not Even Try to lie about it. You may contain multitudes within yourself but this has always been the absolute truth.#You have always cared to some extent. That was the only thing you have managed to do out of free will Kenix. shaking and bitimg..#yomo ocs?!#kenix#artemis/sora
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I made it.
One more breath I took.
One more day my heart did its job.
Just steadily, helplessly beating.
Iâm moving in slow motion.
Iâm pushing myself.
Growing older.
Getting wiser.
Getting more and more alone.
Missing you a little more everyday.
You canât help me now,
Fuck no one can.
#dark writing#emo aesthetic#bpd life#actually bpd#original poem#bpd things#poetry#bpd feels#sin of lust#gothcore#soft goth#dealing with grief#greif#grief#goregrind#grunge#grieving#grief journey#tw grief#grief poetry#dark grunge#why am i like this#all consuming love#alone with my thoughts#love affairs#feeling alone#always alone#alternative#alt girl#alone in the dark
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i know i just got here, but seeing all of the laughably bad takes from both sides of the spectrum is convincing me that no, i donât actually need to be on social media again.
#this is about mdzs fandom discourse#this is a jc/jiggy support blog#but#they did bad things and made bad choices and i love that about them#i can acknowledge their bad choices and their flaws and still like them#but hooooooly fuck#the jc/jiggy/XICHEN antis drive me fucking banana nut bonkers#there are valid reasons to dislike all 3 of those characters and somehow you have created ones that are so far from reality i cannot believe#that we read the same book#or watched the same shows#1. get some reading comprehension i beg you#2. for the love of fucking god please like. find some god damn joy in your lives and stop giving a fuck about characters you donât like#2.5 and people who like characters you donât like#2.75 and i know thatâs kind of blasse of me to say in the tags of a post griping abt people griping abt characters they donât like#3. just??? go find joy? touch grass?? not everything is about you and your terrible reading comprehension#4. stop assuming that your way is the right way#5. the puritanical bullshit of protagonist inherently good is really getting old#i am begging you to do any modicum of research into the concept of antiheroes#it will broaden your horizons i prommy#not everything is about blorbos being all good all the time#your blorbo is not free of sin#(unless itâs sizhui. sizhui is always free of sin)#anyway i think imma delete tumblr. the algorithm keeps showing me anti posts and im old and tired#no discourse here pls and thanks#moots dm for discord if u wanna
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not enough people talk about the kabbalah symbolism in p5 I think. yes there's barely any but im a project moon fan and overanalyzing how every path in mementos is a qlippoth (with One Exception) drives me insane.
more p5r spoilers stuff and rambles in tags
#i think we need to talk about marukis connection to kabbalah actually#like im sure atlus just did him with kabbalah stuff because the mementos paths were named after kabbalah stuff and#atlus tends to name areas of the. whatever its called. Grinder Hell Dungeon of the persona game.#based on certain divine worlds and concepts and traits#but also kabbalah directly relates to tarot and stuff. aggahhgg#i believe it's what... representing the Fool's journey to enlightenment?#enlightenment being the path of da'at#on that note when i see people talk about adam kadmon it's always limited to the bible symbolism#NOBODY TALKS. ABOUT THE KABBALAH. I am actually not an expert so i will only kind of#to my knowledge adam kadmon is the representstion of all elements of the 10 Sefirot#whifh are uhh. the 10 heavenly attributes i think?#anyway adam kadmon in kabbalah actually represents the *opposite* to adam rrom the bible#its very much not human and >pure light< essentially. whereas Mr. Bible Adam introduced sin into the world#adam kadmon is meant to be a messiah of a sorts. in fact adam kadmon >created< the earthly adam#of course the name is confusing. thats on purpose. adam kadmon is both a representstive of mortal mankind and the divine will#agh honestly i could actually get coherent thoughrs one day. i am eating dinner right now so :/#if anyone wants me to make an actual post about maruki and kabbalah just like. idk hit me up
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do you think kevin/jean/renee could ever be something....... not in canon but you know. in our hearts
DO I EVER. anon are you in my brain. i had this thought like three hours ago. anyway YES absolutely especially if we take them slightly out of canon and to the left. jean has two hands.
i think the most plausible way it would happen is if jean stayed at psu which would expedite his reconciling-with-kevin timeline. instead of after the finals as per EC it would be like. a month in bc they literally cannot avoid each other the flip side of this is that he would probably be less adjusted than he would be with the trojans bc the foxes will always have riko & the ravens hanging over their heads.
i also think renee and jean would be together officially at this point like i don't think it would take jeanee very long after jean starts at psu at all. in my heart they start a relationship after jean goes to usc anyway bc i can't part with them but you know. That pesky little thing (the EC whom i love dearly) exists to tell me they do not. cue: a very confusing conversation with renee bc i don't think jean can keep a secret from her after she was his only outlet for all those months they were texting wherein he is like "renee i think i am in love with kevin" and renee is like " i know :) are you going to do anything about it?" and poor jean is like "What. Am i what. You??? What ???? KEVIN!!! as in DAY!!"
now if we're talking like Full all everyone everything poly.......... i don't know i really don't. i just genuinely can't think of a single time renee and kevin talk to base my opinion around. but i think both of them would love jean enough to just let him do whatever :) this is my boyfriend jean and this is jean's boyfriend kevin :) sometimes kevin and jean start acting insane bc the nest is hanging over them & renee is like Wow. Does anyone want pancakes and maybe to go to church?they all share a giant bed bc jean and kevin are huge but renee and kevin sleep on opposite sides & sometimes one of them needs to sleep on their own so. renee and kevin sharing a bed no jean! let's think about this for a second too now. maybe they fall in love with each other bc of jean i think that's cute. this too is yuri
#you've made the fatal mistake of letting me talk about jean. i will genuinely never stop#for the love of god ppl please keep asking me what i think about him.#PLEASE#ask#kevjeanee#tag?? new tag??? kevjeanee??#kevin#jean#renee#now i am imagining renee bringing the two of them to a church outing. this is renee! everyone meet renee! this is her boyfriend jean and#this is kevin#who is always there#and they both have a face tattoo. i think i saw kevin and jean kiss but this is not my sin to deal with i dont think.#a frenchman and irish man and a catholic walk into a bar#aftg
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çă¨čăŽçŠčŞ (the story of the fox and the firefly)
harrison; 4,064 words; fluff and angst a/n: for @violettduchess and @aquagirl1978's summer days, sultry nights event -- prompt "fireflies" (obviously); i'm also gonna say this counts for my 31 days of au prompt -- reincarnation!au; inspired by hotarubi no mori e and catheryn m valente's deathless and honestly, i'm so proud and happy with this one that i'd encourage you to read it even if you have no idea of the fandom/character. u__u i would love, love, love to know what you guys think!
once upon a time, a long, long time ago, there lived a girl who only danced to the fireflyâs light and a fox who could tell nothing but lies.
01.
for as long as you can remember, thereâs always been the wood. and it has always been behind your house, itâs leaves and branches foreboding in the winter wind, and somehow less so in the simmer of mid-summer afternoons, when the sunlight dappled light across the soft, forest floor. it isnât a very large wood, but itâs a wood nevertheless, and deserves all the respect and fear afforded to bigger woods in faraway places. woods that warn of teeth and terrors, woods that hide both dreams and monsters.
youâd been wandering the wood from when you were a little girl, and to you, thereâs not a single rock you donât know, a single tree you havenât tried to climb. and the forest knows you, as forests do the people who frequent them, and it welcomes you with open arms, it cradles you to its chest, whispers stories into your ears, carves itself open to show you itâs secrets â
âyouâre late.â
you crinkle your nose at the familiar voice, letting out a huffing breath as you drop your picnic basket in the middle of the small, sun-lit clearing, taking your time with laying out the checked picnic blanket and two cups and saucers for tea, and finally, pulling out a tray of confections, covered by a thin, linen baking towel.
âno, iâm not! you just want me to think i am so iâll give you more than half of the sweets.â
a boy settles over the picnic blanket, cocking his head at you before you narrow your eyes.
âwell? isnât that true?â
âahh⌠i wonder if it isâŚâ he says, but you can hear the grin in his voice, even through the material of his fox-faced mask, which, after a few more seconds of posturing, he pushes up onto his forehead. he shakes out his milk-tea hair and slates you a poison-ivy grin. you know that grin like you know the woodsâ and you know the woods like you know the backs of your own hands. better, even, you think sometimes.
because for as long as thereâs been the woods, and as long as you have wandered itâs depths, the boy with the fox-faced mask has always been there.
âthere were fresh strawberries at farmerâs market today,â you say, setting up the tea service as you nudge the opened picnic basket towards the boy with a foot. he peers in with wide, curious eyes before letting out a soft noise of contentment as he reaches in to pull out a slice of freshly baked strawberry cream cake.
âyour grandmama makes the best pastries in the world,â he says, and thereâs such sincerity in his voice that for a moment, you almost believe him.
but you nod and take the compliment in stride, âshe sure does!â
he digs in with gusto even when you tut that the tea hasnât steeped properly, but you laugh as he smears a large dollop of whipped cream across his cheeks. you point it out to him with a dainty finger, and as always, you fight the urge to reach over and wipe it off for him. instead, you hold yourself still and sigh as he finally gets to it, smudging a bit into his hair in the process.
âclumsy fox,â you giggle, pressing a hand up to your lips.
âpicky girl,â he snipes back, but thereâs that full, sated grin on his own lips as he leans back, his elbows propped up on the soft grasses of the clearing.
after a moment of pleasant silence during which the leaves sang on their trees and the grasses swayed beneath the breeze, the boy turns towards you.
âso. no dancing today?â
you turn your head towards him before casting your eyes up towards the still bright blue sky.
âyou know itâs not time yet.â
the boy heaves a melodramatic sigh, sound much bigger and larger than his 14-year old body should be able to hold.
âah⌠right, right â because you can ââ
ââ only dance by the firefliesâ light â yep!â
the boy regards you with an imperious sort of look before breaking into a fit of bright, open laughter.
âyouâre the strangest girl iâve ever met!â
âjust you saying that tells me itâs not true,â you stick out your tongue at him, even as heat washes up into your cheeks.
the boy shrugs, lying back down on the picnic basket, âi donât always have to lie, yâknow.â
and itâs your turn to regard him with the imperious look, and, a the cock of a singular eyebrow, his lips tug into a lopsided grin. his eyes flash, the color of budding spring.
âliar,â you say, but youâre smiling too as you lie back down to watch the clouds pass.
he makes no sound to correct you.
02.
once, youâd asked him what his name is and he simply shook his head and said â
âcall me whatever youâd like.â
âbut i want to call you by your name.â
âwhatâs in a name anyway?â
âuhm⌠nothingâs in it butâŚâ youâd frowned then, your eight year old mind spinning to try and catch up with this strange, strange question and this strange, strange boy.
âsee? so why should it matter what my name is? just⌠call me whatever!â
but youâd only frowned hard enough for him to roll his eyes.
âfine then â uhm â whatâs the name of the current prince?â
youâd blinked, âharry.â
âthen call me that.â
âbut is that your name?â
âwell, now it is.â
you hadnât been convinced but you liked it better than not calling him anything at all.
âharry, then,â youâd said, smiling. and the boy â harry â had smiled too, slipping his fox-faced mask back in place as he led you further into the forest.
03.
âyâknowâŚâ harry says, his voice light as the sun dips beneath the horizon line, leaving behind a blaze of reds and pinks. you turn your head, eyes catching on the shape of him, inked out against the dying light.
âyouâre the only person iâve ever met whoâs wanted to be cursed.â
you take a long breath and turn your eyes back up to the bleeding sky.
âwell. youâre cursed, and you seem just fine to me,â you try to keep your voice strong, resolute and steady. grandmama had always said that if you keep your voice strong, people are more willing to believe your words. you wonder if thatâs why harryâs voice is always soft, always lilting, his words slippery as moss-covered stone.
âyeah, but you canât even touch me,â he says, and for once, his voice is harsh, his words sharp and hard as broken glass.
âthatâs okay though â once i get my own curse, iâll be able to touch you, right?â
harry fights back the urge to turn, to take you by the shoulders and shake you till you push him away. he wants to scream, to howl at the moon like the mother wolves and the hungry cubs that live in the heart of the wood. he wants to run through the woods, crash into things, climb up the trees and shake off all their branching leaves.
but he canât, and so he doesnât.
instead, he turns to look at you and look at you and look at you.
he wonders if itâs a strange thing, to like looking at someone so much, to find something new about a face every single time itâs looked upon â the wisps of hair fallen loose to frame your face from the velvet ribbons holding it back, the curve of your button nose, the dip of your cupidâs bow. he wonders if this is a normal thing, the thick weight of it in this chest, the truth of his curse sitting heavy on his tongue.
âyeah⌠probably,â he says â and the lie is smooth as milk, sweet as just-spun sugar.
âgood. then we wonât have long to wait, hm?â
04.
thereâs a story, so youâve been told, of a fox that lives in the woods â and the fox can tell nothing but lies, lest the truth cut open itâs throat. and when it bleeds, because even monsters bleed (oh especially monsters), it will bleed in blue and silver, which everyone knows is the color of magic.
âbut why would telling the truth kill it?â youâd asked, your eyes wide and round as the full-bellied moon.
your grandmama had sighed, rocking you in her lap as the forest outside shivers and shakes with the steps and breaths of creatures unseen.
âthatâs what curses do, my sweetest⌠theyâre unfair things, they are. and they donât like to make a lot of sense.â
and that had been that. sheâd moved onto a nicer story, a sweeter story, a story that was not so much truth and mostly lies â because the truth, as your grandmama had said, is sharp and unfair and makes so very little sense.
lies are much, much the better for the makings of stories.
05.
he has never complimented you on your dancing, not even once â not in all the years youâve been dancing for him, by the light of a million and one fireflies.
youâd been eight when you made the promise, itâs been ten years since then.
and at eighteen, you wonder how many more years itâll be before the moon or the forest or whatever it is that chooses people to curse will take pity on you.
itâs just after sunset, and youâd just finished your customary sunday afternoon picnic. harry is sprawled out on the picnic blanket, his fox-faced mask lying in the soft, long grasses, an arm thrown over his eyes. you wonder if heâs asleep, though you donât think youâve ever seen him fall asleep, not in all the time youâve known him.
âmusic, pleaseâŚâ you announce to the clearing, and after a long pause, as if the forest itself is coming to life, the wind picks up â the leaves rustle on their branches, the birds sweep up into a twitter wingbeats and song, the grasses around the clearing hish and hush the thrumming baseline to a music that only you and harry and the forest can hear.
slowly, harry pushes himself up, making a show of rubbing his eyes, and in the darkness you can only see the shape of him.
you donât see the prickle of tears at the edge of his eyes as he wipes them away.
instead, you close your own eyes and wait.
and wait.
and then â at the first flicker of a fireflyâs light, you lift your hands and start to dance.
06.
once, youâd asked him how heâd gotten cursed in the first place.
âitâs a long story,â heâd said.
âiâve got a long time,â you countered.
heâd crinkled his nose, pursing his lips as the pair of you hopped over a narrow stream, him watching as you teetered on the edge of the water.
âhm⌠well, if you do something a ton of times in the wood⌠the wood decides that thatâs all your good for, and it becomes your curse!â
youâd blinked up at him from over your shoulder, a soft smear of mud on your cheeks.
âoh⌠itâs that easy?â
âeasy?â
âi mean, to get a curse.â
heâd narrowed his eyes, âwhy would you want a curse?â
youâd straightened up, pressing your palms down your rather sullied dress.
âbecause â you said that i canât touch you cause iâm human, right?â
âuh-huhâŚâ harry had nodded, uncertain of where your child-logic had taken you.
âbut other cursed things can touch you, right? like the wolves and the shadows and the queen of ravens.â
harry bit his lips. but you seemed to have taken his silence for consent and happily skipped off further into the forest. heâd never corrected you even as he heaved another world-weary sigh and followed after you. because technically, you hadnât been totally wrong.
and his curse was only that he couldnât correct you.
07.
your mind wanders as you begin to dance, and these days, itâs been doing a lot of that â wandering. so your grandmama says that itâs a part of growing up â learning when to let your mind wander and when to reign it back in, hold it on a tighter leash and tell it to wander no more. itâs a blessing to be able to let your mind wander, and so you do.
itâs just that these days, you canât help but notice that itâs less of wandering and more of⌠well, a straight-shot descent to a well-known destination. and you know from a whole childhood of actual wandering that if you know the way and you know what youâll find at the end, then itâs not wandering at all.
itâs just going.
but still, you let your mind go where it wants, and lately, itâs been going and going and going... to harry.
harry and his soul-soft laughter, harry and his knife-edge smiles, harry and his loose, lethargic movements, unhurried and always so certain. back when you were both still children, heâd led you through the forest with nothing but his voice, spouting out random facts that were much too outlandish to be true, and later, when you were both a bit older (and youâd long since memorized every bit of forest there was to memorize), heâd walk alongside you in companionable silence.
you knew his favorite trees, his favorite flowers, his favorite birds and colors, his favorite season, his favorite sweet, his favorite fruit and so many others.
and still, it feels as if you donât know him at all, even though youâre certain he knows everything there is to know about you.
exceptâŚ
you spin out on the long grasses, the light of a million and one fireflies dancing across your skin, dancing with you, singing with you as the forest does. and above you, a crescent moon cuts a sinister smile into a lonely, starless night.
years later, youâd wonder if the night had known â if the wood had known (of course, of course it had known, because there are no secrets the woods do not know, no secrets the waning moon doesnât keep from the sleeping earth), if the entire world had conspired against you and for you that night.
when you finish dancing and the last of the fireflies flicker down to rest on the long, soft grasses, youâre breathless with exertion, luminous with exaltation and drunk on the song of the forest and a million and one lightless stars.
in the middle of the clearing, harry is smiling, you can see it even from here, and for the first time since youâd danced for him the very first time, he brings his hands together and claps.
âthat was⌠beautiful,â he says, and his voice is deeper now, supple and sweet with the night air.
âth-thanks! phew â i really think that might do it,â you say, plopping down on the picnic blanket next to him, spreading wide your arms and staring up at the velveteen sky above you.
08.
once, youâd been told another story, though you donât quite recall who youâd heard it from. maybe your grandmama, and maybe the old man who sits in the village square after all the longest days of the year, smoking his pipe and telling his stories.
âdo you know why the cursed forest creatures canât touch humans?â
âwhy?â a village boy had asked before you had the chance to.
âbecause⌠if a cursed creature touches human flesh, the cursed creature will die.â
âohâŚâ you said, clutching your hands to your chest, and youâd never really thought about dying. because really, what ten year old in their right mind would? but you knew of the concept from when grandmama talked about grandpapa â how he was there one day and then the next day he just⌠wasnât.
âhe died in his sleep,â sheâd said, a tone of sadness in her voice that youâd never heard there before and wished youâd never have to hear again, âit was the best way to go.â
youâd wondered then if thereâs really such thing as a âbestâ way to go. wouldn't the âbestâ thing to be not going at all?
âthen⌠do the cursed creatures get to live forever?â you asked, before the village boy could cut in.
the old man took a long sip from his pipe and blew out a few concentric rings of smokes before coughing and waving it all away.
âno⌠you see, if the cursed creatures get to pass on their curses, theyâd get to be reincarnated into being a human once more.â
09.
âdo you⌠really want to be cursed?â harry asks as the pair of you share in the silence after your dance.
you suck in a long breath before pushing yourself up to sit in front of him, careful to keep your knees from bumping his.
âof course i do! itâs⌠itâs what iâve been trying to do since i was like â eight!â
âbut⌠why?â and harryâs voice is small, smaller than youâve ever heard it, even though now, his eighteen year old body should carry a much heavier, harder sound.
âbecause,â you say, resolute as youâd always been, âonce iâm cursed, iâll be able to touch you.â
âand why⌠is that so important to you?â
harry casts his eyes towards you; you catch his gaze with yours, holding it steady. and in that moment, you mind lets go of the story that the old man told you. because it was a long time ago, and the story was so, so far away. and sometimes, the mind chooses which truths it wants to listen to, which truths it wants to believe in.
sometimes, it chooses truths that donât look like truths from the outside in, but from the inside out â theyâre the truest things to ever be true.
like this one â
âbecause i want to touch you. because⌠itâs what iâve wanted since i was a little girl. because⌠sometimes, i think i want to do more than touch you â sometimes ââ your voice catches on a hitched breath, lost somewhere in your chest, somewhere between your heart and your throat.
but then, darkness descends over your vision and it takes you a long moment to realize that youâre staring at the inside of a mask, thin but solid â the fox-faced mask that harry always wears.
and then pressure, and warmth, right where the foxâs dagger-carved grin usually is, so close to your own lips you can feel the heat.
it holds for a long, long moment, and then itâs gone.
the light returns as harry tugs the mask from you, grinning that teasing, lopsided grin of his, though thereâs something about it tonight that makes your heart seize.
âtell me, one more timeâŚâ he says, and his voice is jagged with something that sounds painful and true and so, so terrible.
âi â i want the curseâŚâ you say, before you really realize what youâre saying, and it takes you a moment to realize that this too, is the truth.
âokay then⌠itâs yours.â
and he leans in to press his lips to yours.
the truth, harry realizes, is always bitter, and harsh, and much too sharp. when he pulls back, he presses his palms to yours and lets the moon wash the clearing in blue and silver. you gasp as you feel the magic creeping into your bones, tugging you under, dragging you through the cracks in the world even as harry is tugged away from you back to the world of the living.
âw-was this all a lie?â you ask, because inside you, your heart is fighting for itâs last few beats.
âno,â harry says, his voice is pained, and his expression even more so, because every truth he tells cuts him a little deeper, and he feels his throat constrict over the words, âyour dance really was beautiful⌠andâŚâ
he swallows hard, feeling the knife-edge of this one final truth slicing through him, sharp as moonlight, sweet as the lightless stars.
âi love you. please⌠donât forget me.â
and already, you can feel the truth starting to hurt, starting to constrict inside you like a curse. but still, you force it from you as harry flickers and fades along with the light of a million and one firefly lights.
âi â i wonât.â
10.
âbut how exactly do you transfer a curse?â the village boy asked, his voice loud and jarring.
the old man takes another long sip of his pipe, puffs out a few more smoke rings.
âthrough a kiss,â he said.
you blinked. a kiss?
âew!â the village boy recoiled then, shrinking back from the thought of kissing â because thatâs what children are taught to do at such grown-up concepts as kissing.
you, on the other hand, you stayed right where you are, but a frown has creased your tiny, child-like brow.
âand the trick,â the old man continues, his smile going wide and a little lascivious, âis getting someone who will take their curse willingly⌠to accept the kiss.â
01.
for as long as harry can remember, there has always been the wood. and in the wood, thereâs always been a girl with a fox-painted mask who danced to the light of the fireflies.
once, when heâd gone exploring (even though his grandpapa had warned him time and time again about going into the wood by himself), heâd nearly run into her and sheâd cocked her head when heâd fallen face-first near the bank of a tiny stream, smearing mud across his cheeks.
âyouâre strange little boy,â the girl said â and she could be no more than his age, harry thinks.
âand youâre a weird little girl,â he counters, his eyes catching on the bright red of the foxâs painted mouth.
there is magic at work here, harry knows, though he doesnât know what kind, and all he really wants is to explore the woods behind his house, to know all there is to know of the world, and perhaps â he thinks as you turn and make your way deeper into the forest â to one day hold the hand of the girl with the fox-faced mask.
but thatâs a wish for another day, he decides as he follows after you, jogging to catch up and ask for your name.
âah⌠whatâs in name,â you say, you voice light and languid, even as he frowns, âyou can call me whatever you like.â
02.
once, harry had asked his grandpapa what the truest feeling in the whole wide world is.
and his grandpapa had answered â
âthat, harry, would be falling in loveâŚâ
âfalling in love?â
âyes, my dear boy â and the thing about love is that itâs like a curse⌠but itâs also like a blessing.â
âbut⌠how can a thing be a curse and a blessing?â
then, his grandpapa had smiled, a smile that is starlight and wolfsong and all the secrets the forest ever has to tell.
âbecause we are doomed to always, always fall in love, my boy â and it will always, always be like handing someone and knife and asking them to cut open your throat.â
#harrison gray#ikemen villains#ikevil#ikevil harrison x reader#ikevil harrison#harrison gray x reader#ikemen series#summer days sultry nights ccc#angst mcgee#floofy floof floof#uHM i refused to apologize hoLY shit you guys i fucking adore this story.#fUCK goddamnit i am so high rn on having written this u__u but like PLS dear god tell me what you thought i have SO MANY THOUGHTS AS WELL#here are some concepts that i rly fucking adored: the ease of lies and the difficulties and harshness of truths#the fact that loving someone will always be the most painful thing you'll ever do#and that sometimes a thing can both be a lie and a truth -- or a lie that becomes the truth#and GOD it is not a sin to want things because sometimes the world wants us to want things that we shouldn't want#and sometimes the world wants us to want things because there are stories carved into the grooves of the world#stories so old that the world would end before it stopped telling these stories and children have been getting lost in the woods#since the inception of humanity itself u__u and that's a story that always needs to be told#because isn't that what growing up is about? the realization that not all truths are true and not all lies are all the way lies#and that most things actually live in between? uGH#anyway u__u im emotional and tired#pls read this <3
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Watch out ya'll, Sin's sketching Bloodborne comics again! đ
#sin speaking#(i havent drawn anything bb related since MAY. holy shit dude. tbf i have been affronted by existing in general lmao)#(wow 2 whole years in the bb community and this is the first time ive drawn any of the main monstars. very subpar of me)#(im making approximately 0 promises on when this will get done bc i always end up being wrong LOL but still)#(i got a big brain boost of bb inspiration so you have to contend with my messy af sketches)#(anyone thats been here for a while is used to that though)#(why yes!! i AM infatuated with the choir rn. specifically my choir menace hradi who i love so much he has been written into ruzas story)#(as a minor role. but a role nonetheless. HEH.)#(it feels good...it feels so good to be with them again...)#(this isnt a big comic its like 4 pages lmao but still)#(i am currently raiding the chalice dungeons for uncanny weapons if yall need someone to tomb prospect with hmu)#(aloysha and hradi's profiles are menacingly strong and available for hire at the price of one corn chip)#(if nobody else got me i know my ballpoint pen unique brush got me AMEN)
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-cracks knuckles-
I don't have twitter and I've never drawn a Miku before in my life, but I adore that trend happening rn and wanna drop down my two cents, so let's go with the research to make a Hatsune Miku: but she is from my family (hard to explain, but it's absolutely Texan)
#ghostie mumbles#looking up some native american jewelry from the ones in my genealogy to be accurate and true#as well as merging it with some casual wear and subtle cowboy stuff.#culture stuff for me and my family is very lowkey and more in what you'd see as little details scattered around the house--#--and houses of my relatives. so this is gonna be a very tame Miku but it's gonna be a nice little depiction of my heritage n stuff#I am going to have at least 1 piece of jewelry that represents the native american tribe sin my genealogy which is..#tbh.. as close as I am with that side of me. I'm so far removed that my physical features are so subtle you'd have to look closely to see i#everything I know came from my grandma on my dad's side and the powwows we have gone to when I was younger before they all--#--kinda.. stopped happening and moved to the big one called 'red earth' which is out of state for me#I liked the small ones.. the smells. the food. the music. getting to see the regalia of dancers.. the beautiful art and jewelry and trinket#--and figures you could buy.. it was always so nice getting to go.#at least the state fair has some stalls dedicated to native american artists who craft and sell similar things#one thing they don't have tho is the fry bread. and now I really want some. :(#ANYWAYS Gonna mark down the jewelry and the tribe name next to it as I find it and get that noted before moving on with everything else#I wanna make her look cute and interesting. will also definitely be looking into hairstyles and clothing. taking inspo from my own family#all this just for a dumb miku drawing#I do my best to try and do research for my pieces!!!! mostly.
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HELLO MOOTS!! its still me!!! its juno!!! just with a new and improved url!!!! (tagging people below the cut <33)
@svnflowermoon @zzzzzzzzzee @qwerty-keysmash @bookscorpion73 @a-beautiful-fool @insectsinthestars @recklessandyoung @trying-to-be-cool-abt-it uhh and anyone else concerned <333
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if i think too hard about the fact that snow and white are the only wizards that look like children and that oz and figaro are the only wizards that look like old men, i'll start crying.
oz and fi were able to age well into their 40s because snow and white were looking after them. They were protecting them. They watched their disciples age and grow up in ways that was simply not possible for snow and white themselves, who were left all alone.
#it's crying about wizards o'clock again#snow and white my abandoned cats on the street i will always feel bad for#your honor i am aware they comitted every crime and every sin ever#but have you considered they are just lil guys
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