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kleptomaniakrow · 1 month ago

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hi, i'm back on my brain rot bullshit! so you know what time it is... B^)

hear me out, (some) KorTac men (specifically König, Krueger and Nikto), dating an artist.

normally, i often see most drabbles and other thoughtfully crafted pieces delve down the writer route (go figure)! this prompt fucking possessed me whilst i was working on some art, so i'm imposing this idea into the ether for all of you to see!

kept it gender neutral! but there might be one femme-leaning pet-name + the use of "little one" for Nikto's bit! i am not a russian-speaking native so i hope the one i grabbed is gender neutral as well (feel free to correct me if it isn't)!

personally i'm run with his government first name being "Andre," this is not canon btw!

if they're a little ooc? uh... i'm still figuring out how to write these three idiots (affectionate)!

this barely proof read so if you see typos? uh... no you didn't.

enjoy these little pebbles of purely sickeningly sweet, silly fluff under the cut!🖤

♚ König. . .

✦ he would fucking love to see your drawings i will die on this fucking hill! this fact about you was one of the most exciting thing he ever learned about you! by god was this man like a child in a candy store witnessing all of your art pieces, new or old! ✦ this big, burly man gets so soft and proud seeing your sketches become finalized pieces. the art of creation is always such a wonderous marvel to behold in his opinion! seeing you tune out the rest of the world, when you fully submerge yourself into the motions is remarkable sight to behold. he's privileged that you let him be a witness to it! ✦ honestly, let's be real. he would take this chance to just stare at you (affectionately). because you're too deep in your own little world—likely with headphones on or music playing—perhaps even a podcast of choice! consuming your audio of choice as you pen your ideas to paper, be it on actual paper or on a more digital medium! ✦ if you ever, and i genuinely mean EVER, take the time to draw his portrait (with or without his face coverings)? just know this man would full-on bawl like a baby. pathetic snot dribbling from his nose, horrendously tearful but it's all for good reasons, please don't worry! ✦ "Mein schatz..." / "Do you like it?" / "I've no words that would do it justice... it's... incredible, maus." ✦ i bet fucking money he'd save that to his phone, keep a copy of it in his pocket of a kevlar vest. something tangible that you earnestly made for him with intents of capturing your muse onto parchment. between photos of you he keeps to himself, little traces of your existence just make his heart sing. parchment long since creased from how many times he's opened it and closed it, weathered and worn but it's something you made for him to keep. these items that were made or owned by you are invaluable, no amount of money could every buy these off of him. you, as well as anything you make, are treasures he'd protect indefinitely. ✦ in the sense of a long-distance relationship be it for deployment or otherwise, you'd often share what you're working on. be it still images or (stable internet, be willing), you lull him to sleep with delicate humming a tune you're listening to whilst sharing your screen, he'd watch you work on projects you're determined to see to fruition if he couldn't be home to observe you himself. ✦ if you're ever insecure about your work, this big ass goof (affectionate) would stumble over his words but he'd want nothing more than for you to constantly be up his ass about what you do, side-hustle or hobby otherwise. ✦ König is your number 1 supporter, he'd sooner turn in his premature grave before he'd ever slip up on an opportunity to let you think otherwise. even if you find your talent lackluster by comparison, he'd perish atop mountains shouting how talented his beloved Schatz is! the way you breath life into such fictitious subjects always drew him in. especially with how you drew eyes and expressions! (when he noticed you often mimic the facial creases yourself when focusing on expressions, but he'd never tell you. it's too precious to point out so brazenly). ✦ frankly, if this passion of yours is important to you? it's important to him, and he will not budge on this. what sparks you joy will be a wonderous experience for him too, and what partner would he be if he wasn't supportive of your interests, hobbies or line of work?

♜ Krueger. . .

✦ see, Sebastian would be a bit interesting because you'd think at first he'd pay little to no mind. ✦ his steps are so quiet around the house that half the time you're just ignorant of his presence for several minutes. a comedically long while before the inkling of someone behind you ever crossed your mind. ✦ it's not that you'd mind (not unless he scares the proverbial piss out of you, of course) but he just can't help but be curious. maybe he's not one for the modern arts (perhaps more classical?) but... you're his darling little liebling, he isn't so much as a fool to be ignorant of your interests. ✦ however he's not too partial to being separate from you; Krueger gives me the impression he's partial to physical touch... when he wants to be that is (frankly he's no better than a cat in my eyes). ✦ "Schatzi?" / "Hmmm~?" / "Come, bring your little drawing things with you if you must but I need you here," ✦ he now fully sees a character design you've been working on and admittedly... curiosity does get the better of him and he begins inquiring what you're working on whilst your form settles into his. ✦ "Oh! This is a commission for someone who paid me illustrate a character for their indie game!" he just nods along, allowing you space to involve him into this little world of yours. revealing to him the various concepts tossed back and forth between you and your client. ✦ Sebastian is (quietly) fascinated by how your creative little mind works. keenly taken notes, exhibiting your perceptive attentive to rather pedantic details―it's so (annoyingly) endearing. he's come to find himself enamored, entertained even, by your eccentric interests. your fixations are ones that vastly differ from his, but these are distinctive traits he's come to adore you for. ✦ he jokingly threw out the idea of how he'd look in such a world of whimsy given your subjects of focus is often fantasy. oh boy, he shouldn't have said that because now you have ideas and that is dangerous to give one's partner with only their imagination as a limiter. ✦ he'd be physically unable to admit to it, but he'd likely have saved the drawings that poured every ounce of love into. utterly taken by your imaging him in a knight's garb rather than tac pants and kevlar. the thought of you seeing him as such a regal-looking protector... he struggles to give name the feeling a name most days. the one that makes his stomach feel light and fluttery, his heart feel like a frantic bird caged by bone instead of metal. that same one makes his cheeks and ears warmer than normal.

♞ Nikto. . .

✦ see, there's just something about Nikto that gives me the impression he wouldn't even ask. however, don't mistake this as disinterest! baby boy is so fucking curious what his little one is doing! he's just unsure how to articulate such a.. loaded question(?) and you seem so focused on what you're doing! ✦ i kinda see him doing that animal-thing. y'know, the one where he just quietly observes every subtle movement, noise or expression that catches his eye‒you two more often than not just kinda "co-exist" together in the same shared space. not always needing to talk verbally. finding comfort in peaceful, silent company is more than enough between you two! this life led with tranquility is more than he'd ever dare to ask for. ✦ instead, i can see him bringing you sustenance and fluids, you're keeping yourself so, so busy! but you need to eat and drink at some point! things he knows you like! things that he's memorized by heart! it's always the quiet bitches like him (affectionate) who have an internalized backlog of information when it comes to you. it took quite the adjustment period when you made the off-handed remark that you like a specific blend of tea, and he ensured you'd never run out. ✦ little did he know, you were working on a passion project of the indie development. working along side a few other individuals, and you were the one designing characters for a game jam! intending to make a concept a protagonist who's build you're not exactly familiar with drawing (bulky, trained, fit. think professional dead lifter types which distantly remined you of Nikto). ✦ he couldn't help but notice that the usual focus is now tightly knit with frustration. the quiet, concerned glance he shot your way went unnoticed, far too deep in your own thoughts to really pay any heed to the brewing worry. he had to say something... anything to snap you out of this mental limbo that deafened you. ✦ "любимый?" ("beloved?") / "Huh?" / "Something troubles you...?" / "Trouble me?— oh! No, no I'm okay!" / "Your expression tells me different... will you allow me to listen? To.. help?" ✦ eventually the big brutish bear cuts through your thoughts to source the root of your worries! frankly, it'd cause you to wrinkle far earlier than you mean to! as prompted, you're airing out your grievances with this project being out of your comfort zone. it's hard to come up with a concept that you're happy with and you've deadlines to meet. he listens to you diligently, he may not understand the full weight of your plight; it matters to you, then it matters to him. ✦ you don't know how exactly, but eventually, somehow, you ended up enlisting Nikto's assistance! his figure is close enough the concepts the head of your team posted onto your inspiration board! ✦ somehow, that incorrigible art block just... magically vanished, it was mind boggling even to you. Nikto didn't really understand given all he did was slide you a few photos or posed for your creative use. but the creases on your brow line were softer if not gone entirely, so he'd consider his intervention a success. ✦ you find yourself looking at the game's protagonist (whom you coyly suggested he be named "Andre" for no suspicious reason at all), and you're elated! proud of it, too! it's evident that he bears Nikto's likeness in more than a few aspects aspects! aside from the build, of course. Nikto has been watching you work your magic, manifesting such artistry from nothing but your own thoughts. finding himself in awe watching, left only with silent reverence upon seeing you in your natural habitat of creation was... breath taking. however, he couldn't help but notice his heart thumping against his ribcage a little harder seeing his likeness in something you made. it was... flattering? is that the word he's feeling? seeing how you took characteristics that elicit hardship or grief but you captured his image with calm, quiet confident air. was this how you saw him, truly?

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finelinevogue · 1 year ago

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notes on love

summary - harry attends the football and you attend the baftas

pairing - fiance!harry x famous!reader

word count - ~1.5k

*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*

It was the first time Harry had made a public appearance in months.

Sans a hat on his head.

After braving a shave to solidify a new chapter in his life, Harry had decided that enough was enough and he just wanted to be seen again. Gain some new publicity.

“I can’t do this.” Harry’s voice rang through your phone.

Your phone was currently propped up on the vanity in front of you, whilst your stylist gracefully worked around you to get your hair and makeup done.

“H, baby. You’re going to a football match where over half the population there will be white bald men. You’ll blend right in.”

You took a sip of your apple juice in its carton as you suppressed a laugh. Harry rolled his eyes at you, taking the joke like the good sport he is.

“I actually have more hair than them. I’m not bald anymore.”

“See! Embrace the new hair, H. You look really good.”

Harry smiled at you then, his eyes which had previously been darting between watching you and looking out the moving car window were now permanently on you.

“Not as beautiful as you, though, love.”

“Don’t even have my makeup on yet.”

“Never needed it.”

You blew him a camera kiss for those words alone.

“Where are you now?” You reached for a slice of pineapple from the bowl of fruit you’d ordered from room service.

“About five minutes away I think. Are you still in the hotel?”

“Yeah. Don’t need to be ready until 5.”

You were getting ready for the BAFTAS, which Harry had hoped to be there with you for but you’d decided to take your nan as your date instead since she wanted to spend as much time with you as possible.

Harry was more than happy to let Nana, as he liked to call her, be your date to the BAFTAS. Plus, it meant that he could go see the football.

“You’re going to look so pretty.”

Harry had helped your pick out your dress, which was a sophisticated black to contrast the red carpet you’d be walking down. The dress itself was beautifully cut and shaped you in all the right places, making you look elegant and regal.

“I’m nervous.” You picked up your phone so the conversation felt a little more intimate, even though it was still over face-time.

“Why, love?”

“Don’t normally do stuff like this without you.” You pouted.

Harry wished he could kiss that pout away, “And yet the times that you do, you always end up winning! It’s like they never want you to win when i’m there.”

It was a running joke that Harry was your ‘bad luck charm’.

You didn’t believe that though. It’s just that other actors performed better and won, over you, because of it. If anything, you always won because you got to go home and drink hot tea and eat popcorn with your Harry.

“I’ll miss you.” Your face was so close to the camera that Harry could probably see up your nose.

“I miss you. Send me photos when you’re getting ready. I wanna see you before anyone else.”

“Okay.” You smiled. It was routine at this point to always show each other’s public outfits before anyone else.

“Have you got your ring?”

You held up your left hand and wiggled your ring finger in front of the camera. You blushed thinking about the moment that you got given the piece of delicate jewellery, with Harry on one knee.

“Always.”

“You going to wear it on the carpet?”

“Of course. Not going to draw attention to it though. I’ll let people discover it for themselves.”

Harry laughed at the thought. You two were practically the biggest, most A-List, celebrity couple around at the moment and so when people watch sight of you with the ring there’s no doubt it’s all people will talk about for weeks.

Someone told Harry they’d arrived at the venue, then.

“I have to go, honey, but text me updates please. Wanna see you get ready through photos, okay?”

“Okay.” You promised. “Text me to let me know you’re safely home later, please.”

Even though he was going back to his Manchester home, you still liked to know that he was safe and sound. Especially since you were in London and weren’t going to get to be with him tonight.

“Will do. I love you.” Harry kissed his fingers and then dotted them over the camera.

You returned the gesture, “I love you. Bye, bye, bye!”

•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•

You were just finishing getting ready and scrolling through Twitter.

Harry was trending worldwide for showcasing his new hair. His growing hair. No one had seen him like this since the end of Tour last year.

You pouted because you missed him a lot.

People were absolutely loving it. As always, a lot of people were losing their shit over Harry content. You were too, because you missed him.

“Oh, he looks so good!” Your stylist, Jamie, gasped behind you.

Jamie was currently fixing your hair and you had to say they had done an impressive job.

“I know.” You smiled to yourself.

“He looks like a sexy CEO.”

You laughed out loud at that, “When he puts on his glasses he does.” You agreed.

“Harry wears glasses?” Jamie gasped.

“Yeah, hang on..”

You started to go through your camera roll. It was only a few days ago that he had gotten new glasses, because he’d managed to lose his old ones. Typical.

You stopped on a photo of Harry sat in bed with the duvet up on his chest, a book in his lap and his glasses on. He didn’t realise you had taken the photo of him, but it was now one of your favourites.

“Oh damn…” Jamie gasped. “If your marriage ever goes south, tell him I’ll be available.”

You laughed again, shaking your head in dismissal but also approval.

You went back to Twitter to see if any of the Harrie accounts you follow have tweeted anything. You make yourself laugh as you look through their feral comments.

And just because you like to cause a riot on the internet you liked an insane tweet.

harriesmiles: the way that this photo makes me want to cling onto harry like a koala bear and never let go

It wasn’t long before you were trending with Harry.

Then the face-time call comes through from him.

“Am I done?” You asked Jamie quickly.

He nods, knowing you routine with Harry, and allows you to slip into the bathroom next to the bedroom.

You answered the call shortly after locking the bathroom door.

“Hellooo.” You said in a weird voice, feeling hyper from the Twitter craze.

“Hi, babe.” Harry was obviously outside and trying to watch where he was going, more than looking at you.

“Has the match finished?”

“Yeah.” And you honestly didn’t care enough about football to ask how it went. “Are you ready?”

Harry’s eyes flicked down to his screen momentarily, smirking when he catches sight of your glammed out makeup.

One thing Harry loved more than anything was you in a red-lip, so of course you had to make sure you had one for him - despite the fact he couldn’t kiss it off you tonight.

“What?” You giggled, watching him trying to suppress his smirk in public.

“You’re so annoying. I’m trying to act all cool and mysterious here and you’re making me smile like an idiot.”

You dipped your head and smiled, accentuating the blush that was already powdered onto your cheeks.

“H, honey, you’re walking through the streets of Manchester. No one cares about how you act. They’re probably all drunk anyways.”

“True, true.”

“Did you have a pint?” You propped your phone on the counter.

“Uh, yeah.” He said whilst trying to cross a road.

“Love, do you want to call me back when you’re at less risk of being hit by a car?” You sarcastically asked.

“No!” He yelped. “No. Needs to be now.”

You gave him a confused look but carried on regardless.

You shuffled back in the bathroom, giving him a full angle.

You watched in anticipation as Harry looked at you through his tiny screen, wishing it were ten times bigger.

“Wow.” Was all he said and you giggled like a girl having a high-school crush. “I love you so much.”

“So you like?” You swished your dress from side to side.

“Mhm. Wishing I wasn’t so far from you now.”

“Tomorrow. I’ll have all the kisses for you then.”

“Tomorrow it is, then.” Harry smirked to himself, kissing the camera.

Little did you know that tomorrow was coming a lot sooner. In fact, Harry had been running for the earliest train out of Manchester and down to London for the duration of the phone call. Because Harry was always going to show up for you.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfic #ask finelinevogue #harry blurb #finelinevogue #harry styles concept #harry oneshot #harry styles blurbs #harry styles fic rec

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malformed-encephalon · 1 month ago

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☆ACTIVITIES FOR INSYS PARTNERS!

okay i promise we'll make the new scp layout for our tumblr soon, it'll just be a while😭 anyways! we decided to make a list of things for insys partners to do when fronting (coming from two alters who've been together for over a year!)

to make things easier, i (🎩 proxy) will be writing in plain white, and my partner (🕯 proxy) will be using blue.

we have also made sure that polyamorous partners will also be capable of doing all the things in this list. whilst we are not poly ourselves, we understand others very well may be.

singing with eachother! be it by taking turns with each verse, picking songs for eachother to sing, singing different characters in songs with multiple characters, etcetera, singing is something we do a lot! (we did it a few minutes ago :D)

making a music playlist together! with us, we made a playlist together full of love songs/songs that remind us of eachother and the relationship we have

write poems for/with eachother! you could write separate poems, you could work together to make a poem, or you could write one stanza each about eachother until it's a full poem

helping eachother to get through work you have for the day. if you attend school, you could change who the main fronter is every lesson. if you have work, you could change every hour or so. overall, take fronting shifts, and when you aren't the main fronter, stay in co-front to talk to eachother. we find it makes the day pass far quicker whilst also motivating us. if you have a frontspace, you can also interact with eachother throughout the day/when you aren't the main fronter. with us, we'll occasionally share kisses, and since we have a sofa in our frontspace, we'll either sit next to eachother, or on the other's lap.

making food together! you could bake, cook, or do anything really :) a personal favorite of ours is sandwiches and soup!

watching something together. you could watch a tv show, a movie, a video, a series, anything that comes to mind. we personally enjoy watching analog horror together. and laughing when the other gets scared. that too.

playing games together is a good one! you could switch players every few minutes/hours depending on the game, or switch players every time you die. that or you can have one person play as the other talks to them/advises them on what to do (this goes for every activity!)

drawing yourselves together is a nice one aswell! you could draw yourselves together in an actual art piece, or just as doodles (we're planning on drawing ourselves as cats later so we can have matching profiles, tell us if you wanna see!) you can also draw eachother if you're fronting alone and are missing them

match profiles! if you use any logging/proxy tool, you can make your bios, layouts, banners, pfps and all that lot match :D we have matching layouts, banners, quotes, and plan on having matching profiles.

this list will grow when we think of more, have fun!

-🎩 & 🕯

#encephalon sys #endos dni #anti endo #did system #non traumagenic dni #pro endo dni #osddid #endos fuck off #anti endogenic #system #insys partners #insys relationships #insys relationship tips

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fuckyeahgoodomens · 10 months ago

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Good Omens graphic novel update: August 2024

This time last year, the Kickstarter was in full swing, what a journey it’s been since then! Colleen is still working hard to complete the graphic novel and we have some incredible pages to share with you.

There have been many merchandise updates in the past few months and whilst a number of backers told us they loved these, others wanted to hear more directly about the graphic novel itself. So, for this month we will focus 100% on Colleen’s work, and how the various editions of the book are coming along. Everything is shaping up rather nicely, if we do say so ourselves!

You may have seen some of the sneak peeks Colleen has posted recently, such as this wonderful scene between our heroes:

And our favourite angel and demon on the road.

Collen has recently shared a rare view from her drawing board with us. "Working on pages 75 pages apart at the same time" she explains. The joy for us is that these pages arrive similarly out of order, so the graphic novel is unfurling like a magnificent jigsaw.

The reversible alternative covers by Rachael Stott and Frank Quitely are coming together beautifully. Different vibes, both ‘heavenly’ and we’re delighted to share them with you:

Moving inside. Here's an introduction to your introduction: our favourites include: Dog: Satanical hellhound and cat-worrier. Everyone should have one!

With the pencils mapping out the story almost completely in place, here are some samples from across the book – don’t worry we’re not giving too much away. It is always interesting to see these images come in, then watch them evolve over time

As we enter the latter stages of inking and colouring, we're also getting glorious new artwork by the bucketload. Colleen has been working diligently and it’s simply wonderful to see the story coming to life so vibrantly.

We shared this a few updates ago in its inked form. Now here it is in full glass-shattering colour.

A jaunty moustache and some 'definitely not-bad-news' being delivered in the middle of a birthday party.

A prior inked piece we shared before. Crowley venting his frustrations, oh so subtly.

And here's a closer look at some of the Horsemen in situ.

...of course you must also have some snippets of Aziraphale and Crowley having a fine time with books and wine.

And this rather lovely panel ends the previews of our main duo for this update.

But one final thing before we leave our heroes for this month... feast your eyes on this absolutely gorgeous celestial piece.

And now to the admin.

If you have a query, please check the Good Omens graphic novel FAQ page at terrypratchett.com. Some key recurring questions:

The Good Omens graphic novel was listed to publish in July 2024 - why have I not received it? We shared an update on April 16th 2024 introducing the new timeline and full context on why dates had to be moved. You can read that here. We appreciate that some didn't catch the timeline update and had been expecting items to arrive across July and August - the graphic novel and surrounding items are due to arrive in Spring 2025 to align with the new publication date. Thank you for your patience. We promise that it will be worth the wait!

I've been in touch with a query about my pledge but have not heard back - what should I do? We have been dealing with a significantly increased number of messages recently and our team are working through them as best we can. If you have messaged over a week ago and are yet to hear back, please get in touch again, either via the message thread on Kickstarter or your previous email chain. Rest assured, we are reading and working through all messages as quickly as we can and appreciate your patience.

If your question is not answered in the FAQ, please don't hesitate to contact us and we can get back to you as soon as possible.

Events

We announced in our June update that Crowley's S2 Bentley would be appearing at ACME Comic Con in Glasgow. Unfortunately, our team will no longer be attending, so the Bentley will not appear at this event. We wanted to let you know as soon as possible in case you have booked tickets expressly to see it, or to meet the Good Omens HQ team. Maggie Service is also no longer attending the event, however Quelin Sepulveda, our beloved Muriel, is still appearing on the Saturday, and there are many filming locations around the central belt of Scotland if you are visiting, so you can still make your trip a little more ineffable. We apologise for any disruption to your plans.

Colleen has also had to cancel her appearance at the upcoming DragonCon, as she explains here.

#good omens #good omens graphic novel #graphic novel #colleen doran #acme comic con 2024

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zorosjuicymelonsx · 1 year ago

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Finding You

A/N: Hi everyone! This is my first One Piece fanfic. I haven't written in a while, a lot of shits happened and mental health is not to be messed with.

This is a slow, romance burn (there will be smut later on) however in the meantime do enjoy the fluff and attempt at humour. I will let you guys know before in the notes if I need to add any warnings don't worry!

Chapter One Next

With another corrupt government taken down and its people freed from tyranny and hardship, the Straw Hats sailed their way through the New World off on their next adventure. It was a normal day for the crew, Luffy leaned back comfortably on the head of Sunny, soaking in the hot sun beaming down as he gazed over the sea filled with excitement. Sanji fawned over Nami and Robin as they casually sunbathed on their lawn chairs, the scent of tangerine wafted around them while sipping on the cool drinks the cook had put his love into making. Brook, Franky and Usopp were sitting at a round table on the ship near the girls under an umbrella, Chopper suffering through the heat as he laid on Jinbei’s cool lap watching the guys play cards to take his mind off the sweltering heat.

“Oi, that's cheating Brook you can’t hide your cards in your ribs.’’ Usopp stood up accusingly pointing at Brook annoyed, the skeleton giggled behind his palm and pulled out a stack of cards he had indeed been hiding in his ribs.

“That's SUPER uncool bro”. Franky threw his cards down and picked up his iced cola to sip on.

“YOHOHOHO, that game was truly rib tickling.” Brook laughed at himself and gathered all their cards to reshuffle whilst hearing unanimous groans from the others to prepare for the next game that he promised he wouldn’t cheat again.

Zoro comfortably leaned back against the beam of the ship, sweat dripping down his chest with his eye closed trying to drown out the noise of the crew in the background. He spent the day in search of an answer as to why he’d been feeling on edge since he woke up this morning. The air was calm around the ship, Nami noted no upcoming changes to the weather and his haki couldn’t pick up on anything out of the ordinary that would pose a danger to the crew.

“Oi cook, come here for a second”. Zoro called gruffly for Sanji, the cooks hip swerving at the ladies came to a halt and became visibly irritated from being disturbed.

“Can’t you see I'm busy shitty swordsman?” Sanji bit back but nonetheless reluctantly walked away from Nami’s side and gave a ‘what’ expression to Zoro once he stood before him.

“Do you feel anything…off around you?” Zoro questioned, the cook clearly confused by what the swordsman was asking him.

“Has the moss on your head finally seeped into your brain?” Sanji asked back, Zoro opened his eye to deadpan at the cook, regretting asking him. If the cook wasn’t going to take him seriously, at least Zoro knew he was always prepared for the worst to come.

‘Maybe I just need some booze.’ He thought to himself.

“Nevermind, I don’t even know why I even bother with you.’’ Zoro said back, about to close his eye only to sense a kick approaching his head, quickly drawing Wado from his stilt to block the attack.

“Wasting my precious time over your stupid-” the cook couldn’t finish his sentence before the ship began to rumble. The rumbling abruptly stopped after a few seconds, a large hole began to grow out of the deck of the ship. The hole appeared as swirled white smoke with stars glittering in it. The hole had now been fully formed. The swordsman and cook moved into position to defend the ship as they were the closest to the hole. Luffy jumped from his place to stand with Zoro and Sanji, clearly not worried but beamed with excitement as he gawked over the mysterious hole.

As the rest of the crew quickly gathered around the hole, all ready for the worst to come out of this hole…a small hand shot out from the smoke, flayling trying to find grip around the hole onto the ship. The hand found grip on the edge of the hole, one hand became two hands on the edge, hauling themselves out of the hole to crawl to then lay on the floor of the ship.

“Wow look, it’s a woman!” Luffy said the obvious, smiling widely at the mysterious woman who laid on her side on his ship, her face appeared fatigued.

You were huffing in and out trying to catch your breath again, feeling sweat dripping down your back. Your breathing eventually evened out, finding the energy to open your eyes to observe where in the world you had stumbled into. Finding the faces of the concerned strangers staring at you, a small “shit” came out of your mouth as you scrambled to pull yourself up into a seated position, taking off your backpack and what appeared to be a dark green sword attached to it.

“Excuse me, I do apologise for disturbing you. Where am I?” You smiled up at everyone as you asked politely, the crew members looked at each other clearly seeing that you were not dangerous, dropping their defences and gazing at you with wonder.

“Oh what a beautiful lady you are, I’m Sanji your savi-” Sanji started walking forward to you, beaming with hearts in his eyes about to work his usual ladies-man routine before he was pushed back by Luffy.

“You’re on my ship in the New World. Hi I’m Luffy and I’m going to be King of the Pirates.” Luffy happily said as he grabbed your hand and shook it aggressively, you looked at him and started looking at each individual in front of you until your eyes laid upon a familiar green-haired man while he was putting his sword away. Your smile dropped as you gasped, slowly standing up and started walking towards the swordsman, the others were confused by your actions. You eventually stood in front of him, your eyes glossed over and a small whimper came out of your mouth.

“It's you…I’ve finally found you.” You quietly spoke, everyone suddenly looking at Zoro who had become the centre of attention. Zoro finally looked up from his swords to face you. What happened next clearly brought everyone out of their confused state as you slammed yourself into Zoro to hug him tightly. Sanji had visibly died at the display of affection from you.

“Oi, what are you doing?” Zoro said gruffly, not returning your hug, his arms were raised to not touch you.

“I spent so long looking for you, you have no idea how happy I am right now.” You said sobbing, tears falling from your face as you felt the relief flood in.

“I don’t even know who you are and you’re touching me like this” Zoro angrily stated.

“Y-you don’t remember me?” You looked up at him concerned, the weight of his words crushing into your heart.

Robin started to walk towards you from the others to ask the obvious question everyone had on their mind.

“I see you know our swordsman, do you mind me asking who you are?” Robin asked. You turned your head to the side at the new sound to make eye contact with the woman standing by your side. You could sense her gentle nature, you offered a small smile before clearing your throat to speak.

“My name is Y/N Roronoa and this is my husband.”

————————————- ⚔️✨ ————————————

#one piece fanfiction #zoro x reader #romance #slow burn #memory loss #marriage

100 notes · View notes

marvelmusing · 2 years ago

Text

Like A Diamond

Part of the Glitter & Gold AU

Pairing: Darklina x Fem!Reader (featuring Zoyalai and GenyaxDavid)

Summary: Every one of Aleksander’s closest friends has at least one Morozov diamond. He gifts you one which then prompts an official initiation into Ravka’s most exclusive group of socialites.

Warnings [18+]: smut, oral (fem receiving), exhibitionism and voyeurism (Nikolai & Zoya play with the reader whilst their friends watch), soft dom!Nikolai & Zoya, consensual sharing of explicit videos and photos, praise kink, masturbation, nipple play, non-piercing nipple rings, hint of pain kink.

My Masterlist

Every one of Aleksander’s closest friends has at least one Morozov diamond.

His grandfather had not only been the founder of the company Aleksander now owns, but he had also been one of Ravka’s most influential explorers and inventors. He had located one of the country’s largest natural diamond deposits which had set the foundation for the Morozov brand.

Now, almost every celebrity worldwide wants one of Aleksander’s pieces. Very few people can afford to have such a luxurious item in their jewellery box, and he is very selective about who can be seen wearing his designs publicly. But, of course, if Aleksander values you he won’t be able to resist staking his claim on you through a gift of glistening diamonds.

Genya has a pair of earrings. Sparkling silver studs comprised of three teardrop-shaped diamonds stacked on top of one another to curve over the slope of her earlobe. She wears them on special occasions. Dinners and galas and parties, whenever she needs a reminder she’s appreciated. She and Aleksander have a close bond and his gifts are amongst her most valued possessions.

David has a simple pendant necklace with a small diamond at the centre. He wears it almost always since he likes the comforting weight of it and has a habit of loosening the chain from underneath his shirt to fidget with the expensive gem, twirling it with his fingers whenever he’s nervous. Genya thinks the habit is endearing, especially since the necklace was a wedding gift from Aleksander.

Nikolai has a ring. Thick metal, with a flattened centre that sits on his knuckle, where a Morozov diamond sits alongside his initials engraved there - NN. Nikolai Nazyalensky. He keeps it on his pinkie finger as a replacement for the Lantsov signet ring that he threw away when he became estranged from the rest of his family.

Zoya has a necklace which traces down her figure into a body chain. The thin shining strand of metal falls between her breasts, where a cluster of diamonds sit on her cleavage before splitting into two chains that hang around her waist meeting again at the small of her back. The piece is a pretty addition to Zoya’s tightest dresses and her favourite sets of lingerie.

Alina has more pieces of jewellery than she can keep track of. Glimmering rings, beautiful earrings, necklaces and chokers, glistening bracelets. One night, when the two of you are drunk and giggly, she starts whispering filthy words into your ear, telling you everyone’s deepest secrets. She takes your hand, sliding it into her panties so that you can feel where her Morozov diamond presses against her clit.

When you join the group, they all exchange knowing glances when Aleksander helps you into your coat after dinner or places his hand on your lower back as he steers you through the crowd towards the rest of the group at a gala. They all tease you good-naturedly, telling you that it’s only a matter of time before you get your own diamond.

Alina smiles widely when she sees her husband working on a particular design, sitting in his lap to offer him some company while he draws out something special.

Then one evening you and Aleksander are working late in your office, passing sketches between one another and comparing notes for your designs in preparation for your new collection.

“I have something for you,” he says quietly.

When you see him reaching for his coat pocket, pulling out a small velvet box embossed with a very familiar logo, your stomach flips.

“Aleksander, I hope you know you don’t ever have to give me anything.”

He nods.

“I know.” He opens up the box, nudging it towards you. “But I crafted this one myself.”

Aleksander doesn’t make many pieces by hand anymore, given that he has a company to run and a whole team of people to craft his designs for him instead.

“I thought long and hard about what piece you would like.”

As your eyes flicker down to the contents of the box, the breath catches in your throat. His thumb strokes the underside of your breast. Arousal stirs in your stomach, thrumming down between your thighs.

Slowly, you trace your fingertips over the edge of the box, the velvet smooth against your skin. There’s two small silver pieces, decorated with tiny diamonds cut perfectly to line the outside of the thin curves of metal. The shape of the rings themselves loop in elegant circles, so that they look like daisies.

“Are these…?”

Aleksander continues to stroke your breast, his fingers seeking your clothed nipple, hidden by the fabric of your shirt. Once he finds it, he rolls it slowly between his finger and thumb, pinching lightly.

“I wasn’t sure if you had them pierced or not,” he muses quietly, continuing his gentle touches. “Regardless, I thought it best to give you something easy to wear.”

The thought of having those rings, that Aleksander created himself for you, pinching lightly at your nipples all day has your eyes fluttering closed with need. He takes your silence for hesitation.

“I can turn one of them into a charm for a necklace if you would prefer.”

You shake your head immediately.

“No. They’re beautiful.”

He gestures lightly towards the loose collar of your shirt which reveals your cleavage.

“May I?”

You nod.

He loosens your shirt from the waistband of your trousers, unbuttoning the piece of clothing slowly and pushing the fabric aside to reveal your bare chest. He hums quietly in approval, his voice a low murmur that sends a thrill down your spine as he stares at your nipples.

“Look at that, milaya, all perked up and pretty for me already.”

A burning flush rushes over your skin, warming your cheeks before it spreads down your neck as you glance down at your breasts.

He takes one of the rings from the box, cupping your breast with his other hand. Even though your nipple is already hardened in anticipation, he rolls it between his fingers gently, encouraging it to stiffen further.

“Good girl.”

It’s difficult to not whimper aloud at his praise. He slots the ring onto your nipple, cool metal encircling the bud. There’s a firm pinch at first and you squirm at the sensation, though it softens rather quickly into something more pleasurable - a soft pressure that has you shifting your thighs to seek some friction.

“A perfect fit,” he observes, the corner of his mouth twitching.

He pinches your other nipple hard and there’s no stopping the whimper from escaping your lips this time. A wide smile spreads over his face as he slots the next ring onto your nipple, watching your chest heave as the metal clings to your hardened nub.

The sight of your breasts, areolae adorned with pretty circles of silver in a floral shape, pinched nipples in the place of the flower head, sends a heavy flood of arousal to your cunt. Certain that your panties are soaked, you bite down on your lower lip, gripping to the sides of your seat.

Aleksander’s eyes are darkened as he stares at your breasts, a glimmer of pride in the depths of his gaze. He hooks a finger under your chin, guiding your eyes up to meet his directly.

“How do they feel? Not too tight?”

“Good,” you say with a sigh. “They’re so good. I love them.”

He hums in acknowledgement, stroking his knuckles along your jawline.

“Ensure you take them out before going to bed.”

You nod.

He cups your breast, thumb brushing over your pinched nipple. Shifting your thighs once again, your eyes flutter closed as he stands. A whine claws at your throat, grip tightening on your seat as he shrugs on his coat.

“Aleksander,” you say quietly, your voice an almost pathetic whimper.

The temptation to grab his hand and press it against your clothed cunt is almost too much to bear. Embarrassment prickles over your cheeks at the thought of grinding weakly against his hand, begging for him to touch you. He cups your face with both of his hands, bringing you close for him to press his lips tenderly against your forehead.

“Send me a message when you arrive home safely.” The nod you give him in response is jerky. “And send Alina a video of whatever you do to satisfy yourself tonight.”

You do as he says.

As soon as you get home, your fingers fumble over the screen of your phone, typing out a message for Aleksander as you tuck your shoes away. He responds within a minute, praising you for following his instruction and reminding you of what else he had asked of you. That is all the incentive you need.

Bag and coat left abandoned in the hallway, you move up the stairs into your bedroom and collapse onto the rug between your bed and wardrobe. Once you’ve managed to prop your phone up against your wardrobe door, you begin removing more of your clothing.

Fingers shaking with anticipation, you slide down the zipper of your trousers, allowing the smooth fabric to drop down your legs. After Aleksander had left your office, you had only managed to button up a small portion of your shirt, hands still shaky with adrenaline.

Without too much preparation, you press on the record button and allow the camera of your phone to capture your need-fuelled actions.

The mess in your panties would be embarrassing if you weren’t so aroused by the sight of your slick clinging to the delicate lace, knowing that if Aleksander had slipped his hand beneath your waistband the same mess would have coated his fingers. His long nimble fingers.

It can’t be a very alluring video. But you’re too overcome by need to do anything but arch your back into the side of your bed, fingers reaching up to grasp at your covers as your other hand rubs frantically at your dripping cunt.

Any technique that you’ve gained from learning what your body likes has been abandoned as you mindlessly press your fingertips hard against your clit in eager circles. Gasps and cries of their names escape from your lips even when you grit your teeth as you writhe on your bedroom floor.

The nipple rings Aleksander had created for you glisten in the low light of your lamp as they remain firmly attached to the hardened nub of your nipples. The metal is no longer cool, warmed by the heat of your body, but the subtle pressure of the jewellery against your skin, a gentle tug on your sensitive nipples, has your arousal skyrocketing.

Thoughts of both Aleksander and Alina fill your mind, imagining her fingers rubbing sloppy circles over your clit while he holds your waist still to prevent you from squirming.

Their breathing heavy against your neck as they press kisses there, unable to pull themselves away from you to breathe properly. Alina mouthing over your throat and collarbone, delicate lips pressing firmly as she sucks blooming marks there. The scrape of Aleksander’s facial hair against your cheek, his teeth dragging over your jawline and nipping at your earlobe. Hot mouths. Eager tongues. Sweat rolling down between your breasts. Cunt tightening, a steady beat of pleasure, climbing higher with every drag of friction against your sensitive bundle of nerves.

The climax that hits you has stars sparkling behind your closed eyelids, pleasure thrumming beneath your skin. As you slump your head back against your bed, pressing your face into the curve of your arm, a greedy urge tugs at your hand, as your body perks up again at the prospect of another orgasm.

Squeezing your eyes shut tighter, your sighs and moans become whinier, higher in pitch as your fingers chase your next climax. Curses, pleas, whimpers of their names, they all tumble from your lips, merging together into an almost incoherent mess. You end up hiding your face into the crook of your elbow, biting down on the flesh there to quieten your desperate noises.

Unbelievably quickly, you feel your body stumbling towards the edge of your pleasure, teetering on the precipice of another dizzying climax. The moan that shudders through your body is obscene, your breathy gasps borderline pornographic as you whimper their names one final time as your cunt clenches frantically around nothing.

With shaking hands, you stop the recording and send the footage without any hesitation. There’s no reply from Alina, though you aren’t too conscious of it as you clean yourself up in the bathroom and slip under your bedcovers.

Head still fuzzy with pleasure, you’re dozing lightly when there’s a soft ping that rouses you from the haze in your mind. Blinking sleepily, you reach for your phone, unlocking it and clicking on Alina’s message.

“For fuck’s sake,” you whine, dropping your face down into your pillow.

Taking the image itself into account, it’s more likely that Aleksander had sent the photo, and the response to your video has need blooming in your abdomen once again. What a vicious cycle. Very briefly, you contemplate slipping a hand down to touch yourself again.

The photo is taken from Aleksander’s point of view, as he sinks his cock into Alina’s cunt. A thick ring of arousal is coating his length, smearing messily over both of their thighs. From the soaked state of Alina, he must have been teasing her while you were recording your video for them. Unable to fashion any sort of response, you simply stare at the image until another one arrives.

This one is also taken by Aleksander, though he’s holding the phone to one side so that the majority of their bodies can be seen. Alina’s arms are stretched up to the headboard, while his other hand is curled around her throat as he thrusts into her. Her back is arched against the mattress.

Eyes fluttering closed you imagine their bodies crashing together, the gasps and moans, the slapping of skin against skin. Inhaling deeply, you wish you could hear them yourself, smell the scent of sex fill their room, and taste the sweat on their skin. It’s hard not to touch yourself again, forcing your body into overstimulation just to know that you might climax at the same time as them. But you manage to resist, though your hips grind gently against your mattress.

The last photo is taken by Alina. It’s a mirror picture taken in what you can only assume is their bathroom. She’s completely naked, cheeks and chest flushed a pretty shade of pink, with marks dotted over her neck. Butterflies swoop in your stomach at her beaming smile, filling your chest with a giddy feeling. By the time you’ve finished admiring her, there’s a text underneath the image.

Alina: Don’t forget to pee!! And Sasha said drink some water before you go to bed

You: I’m surprised you can type out full sentences after all that

Alina: I’ll tell him you said that ;)

Alina: And yea I’m concentrating very hard rn

A soft laugh falls from your lips.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

“Let’s see it then,” Nikolai remarks, taking a sip of his drink before he sets in down on the glass coffee table in front of him.

A frown creases at your brows as you watch him lean back into the couch, draping his arm over the back of the furniture piece.

“See what?”

“Whatever Aleksander has made for you.”

Genya smiles widely in anticipation, settling down beside Nikolai before she tucks her leg up to her chest. Her eyes scan over your body intently and you blush. Nerves flip in your stomach at the weight of so many eyes falling on you.

Aleksander and Alina watch you from the other side of the room, where they sit in an armchair together with Alina draped over his lap. Their dark eyes make arousal pool in your panties and a flustered blush burns over your skin as they both smirk.

Swallowing hard, you shift your weight slightly on your feet.

“Go sit with Zoya and show her first,” Aleksander instructs you.

There’s a knowing glimmer in her eyes as you sit down on the couch next to Zoya, opposite Nikolai and Genya. David tilts his head curiously from where he’s sitting in the armchair, leaning to rest his elbow on the arm of the couch next to Genya.

Taking the hem of your shirt you tug it upwards over your head, revealing your bra to everyone in the room. Nikolai grins and Zoya’s gaze roams hungrily over your skin. She reaches out, hooking her finger under the strap of your bra to snap it playfully against your skin.

The sting of pain sends a pleasurable thrum down to your nipples, reminding you of what they’re about to see. Sending a glance over to Aleksander, his eyes darkening as they meet yours, you breathe in shakily and unclasp your bra. The fabric falls from your breasts, revealing Aleksander’s creation to the group.

There’s a collective sound of inhaled breaths and low murmurs of praise, which has you squeezing your thighs together.

“Good girl,” Zoya says with a smirk, cupping your breast to admire the jewellery.

Nikolai leans forward, resting his elbows onto his knees, cocking his head aside as his lips quirk into a boyish grin that makes you blush.

Alina peers over eagerly, as if she doesn’t have an ample number of photos of your breasts saved on her phone. Almost every day, you’ve ended up sending her a picture of some aspect of your body at her request. The thought of her using those photos to touch herself to makes your panties wet.

“Come here, love,” Nikolai says, beckoning you to him. As soon as you stand, Zoya grasps at the waistband of your jeans, bringing them - alongside your panties - down with a few determined tugs.

Nikolai sets you down on the glass coffee table, facing Zoya, goosebumps rising on your bare body from the chill of the glass and the heat burning beneath your skin.

“Let everyone see how pretty you are,” he murmurs low in your ear.

Zoya smirks widely, continuing to play with your breasts. Her fingertips dance over your skin, brushing delicately against your hardened nipples.

“And what a lovely job Aleksander did.” Her voice is an admiring purr that makes your blush deepen. “I think this one of your best, Sasha.”

He inclines his head slowly in appreciation, the corner of his mouth quirking slightly. David asks him a question about the metal used and conversation begins to flow as easily as it always does. Everyone is so dynamic and interesting, they understand one another so instinctively. How can a group of people merely talking to one another make you this aroused?

Aleksander’s voice is your favourite to listen to. Smooth and decisive, every word is pronounced intentionally with confidence in every syllable. Alina is the most expressive with her voice, amusement and interest colouring whatever she’s saying. Genya’s is a soft balm, soothing yet there’s something hidden in her words. Whilst David might not be as articulate as Aleksander, or charismatic like Nikolai, everything he says is insightful. There’s no hope of you understanding what he’s saying, but his enthusiasm has you wanting to listen for hours.

Zoya’s nails scape over your thighs, dragging your awareness back out of the haze that has clouded your mind. A breathy whine heaves at your chest, your eyes snapping up to meet hers. Deep chocolate brown, allure swirling in the dark depth of her gaze as she smiles at you.

The hairs on the back of your neck stand up, prickling in anticipation as Nikolai shifts his body to the edge of his seat, leaning over so that his chest is mere inches from your bare back. His arm curls around your waist, not touching you until his fingers brush lightly over your navel.

A whimper catches in your throat, as Zoya presses her nails harder into the soft plush of your thighs. Her smile twists into a devious smirk. Her nails are always perfect, a decent length, painted whatever shade will match her colour palette for the week ahead. This evening, blood red nails bite into your skin and you squirm over the table.

Nikolai clicks his tongue in warning. His fingers drag up your stomach, tracing a feather-light path between your breasts. When his hand encircles your throat, the pressure is a wonderfully familiar sensation that has you sighing as he squeezes once in reassurance - an encouragement for you to submit to them both.

Their touches are knowing, well learnt through hours spent in one another’s beds. Luckily for you, the length of Zoya’s nails means she prefers to use her mouth to pleasure you and Nikolai. Excitement prickles over your skin as she parts your thighs. The need thrumming through your body ensures you’re unable to focus on anything except Zoya’s lips lowering to kiss over your thighs.

Conversation continues, though you’re unable to decipher anything being said. Occasionally, Nikolai will chuckle, the motion of his chest jostling you slightly. Zoya’s mouth moves over your skin, licking the scratch marks left by her hands and the sting of pain makes you whimper.

At some point, David must have moved over to the couch, sitting beside Genya to press lazy kisses over her throat and slide his hands over her waist and thighs. Her sighs are soft as she threads her hands gently through his hair, encouraging him to continue whilst they watch you, Nikolai, and Zoya.

The amount of arousal leaking from your cunt, smearing over the table beneath you, makes your cheeks burn hot with embarrassment. Nikolai’s murmurings aren’t helping to curb those feelings either. His words are phrased like praises, but the teasing edge in his voice makes your clit throb with need.

“Messy little girl, dripping all over our table. Do you know how much that cost?” When you shake your head weakly he laughs. “Of course you don’t. Numbers are difficult, aren’t they? I don’t think you could count to ten in this state.”

He’s right. Thoughts themselves are difficult and your mind is fully grounded in sensation. His wife bites a mark into your inner thigh, her nose nudging gently against your mound as she leans closer. Every kiss and touch she’s given you has been pointedly away from where you need her most and your patience is wearing thin.

“Zoya, please.”

The sound of your voice breaking through the conversation has everyone’s attention returning fully to you. Zoya looks up at you sharply, something dangerous glimmering in her eyes and you whimper at the feeling of being unintentionally disobedient.

“I’m sorry, please,” you beg, turning your face to hide against the space between Nikolai’s collarbones. “I’ll be good, I promise.”

Nikolai runs a hand soothingly down your side.

“Tell us what you want, lovely. Ask politely, like a good girl, for everyone to hear.”

Chest heaving with anticipation, you squeeze your eyes shut in an attempt at suppressing some of the embarrassment burning over your face as you say,

“Zoya. Will you please kiss my cunt?”

“Just a kiss?” she teases.

Shaking your head, you whimper in protest.

“Don’t be mean Zoya,” Nikolai remarks, though his tone is light and he smiles over at her whilst stroking your cheek gently. “She’s being good.”

She hums quietly, tilting her head as she appears to give his words some thought. Then she nods to one side.

“Look at Aleksander.”

There’s a knowing glimmer in her eyes as you hold her gaze and her smirk widens. Zoya and Nikolai share a look, smiling at one another. They know you well enough to see how much you like Aleksander and Alina.

Swallowing hard, you turn your head and the breath leaves your lungs in a sudden rush as Aleksander’s pitch black eyes meet yours. You can almost see yourself reflected in them, a messy wanton being writhing in front of him.

His tongue traces over his lower lip before he smirks, his gaze lowering to admire your breasts, still adorned with his jewellery, and your messy cunt. Zoya presses her lips against one of your nipples, a delicate kiss to the pinched nub. Then the other.

Then, finally, she ducks her head down between your thighs, mouthing over your soaked cunt. She laps eagerly with her tongue, and the sensation has you throwing your head back against Nikolai’s shoulder. His arms curl around your body to keep you upright.

The desperate cry that escapes your lips attracts Zoya’s attention and her lips press together in disapproval when she sees your gaze has left Aleksander, shifting back to her.

“Keep looking, or I’ll stop,” Zoya says sternly.

A small pout puckers at your lower lip, but you do as she says. Aleksander’s gaze is too intense, and you move your eyes over to watch his hands wandering over Alina’s thighs. He squeezes the clothed flesh smoothly, ignoring how she shifts her weight over his lap, grinding slowly. Her eyes, half-lidded, meet yours and a thrill runs down your spine.

When Zoya’s mouth returns to your cunt, your hands reach for her hair to urge her closer, wanting to chase the prickle of pleasure that is buzzing in the back of your head. Before you can touch her, Nikolai is curling his hands around your wrists, guiding your arms backwards so that your palms are settled on each of his thighs.

“Hold onto me, love,” he suggests.

Despite having very little control of your body and its reactions, you grip onto the fabric of his trousers, nails digging into the muscle beneath. He smiles widely, nose nudging against your cheek as you gasp and whimper.

Aleksander is murmuring something into Alina’s ear, his hand curling around her throat to keep her attention on you. Bliss is running through your veins, heating your entire body as Zoya begins to suckle on your clit, swirling her tongue over the sensitive little bud. Alina bites down on her lower lip.

“Nik, please,” you whisper weakly.

He hushes you, pressing a kiss to your temple as you continue watching Aleksander and Alina, they bodies melding into fuzzy shapes as your gaze becomes unfocused. The drag of Zoya’s tongue and the movement of her lips against your sensitive cunt has you nearing a climax with an almost frightening intensity.

“That’s it, love. Come on, show everyone how pretty you look when you come undone.”

He whispers more praises into your ear before grasping your chin lightly to hold your head up and meet Aleksander’s eyes once again.

“Sasha, tell her what a good girl she is.”

You won’t survive this. The climax that is building inside you is too much. Aleksander’s words are smooth as he encourages you in a doting voice that has your mind sinking through honey.

“You’re a very good girl, milaya, and you’re going to cum for us, aren’t you?”

Obediently, you nod in agreement.

“Yes, yes Aleksander, please, oh fuck.”

Overcome by pleasure, you grasp tightly onto Nikolai’s wrist, writhing between him and his wife as your climax throws you off a cliff, plummeting into the wild waves of bliss. The muscles in your legs shake, your hips jerking against Zoya’s face as your climax shudders through your body.

Weakly, you slump back against Nikolai, whining quietly when Zoya continues to lick your twitching cunt. When your breathing hitches and you try to move away, she stops and you feel boneless now that the sensation has been removed. Bliss has made your limbs heavy and your body is still reeling.

For a long moment, you keep your eyes shut, admiring the colours that swim over your closed eyelids. The need that had been clouding your thoughts has now dissolved completely, leaving your mind a puddle.

While your eyes remain closed, you’re aware of someone lying you down, some gentle touches and murmurs, as well as a warm cloth being dragged between your thighs. It’s much easier to keep your eyes closed, settling your heart and breathing into something more comfortable. Slowly, your eyes begin to flutter open again.

“There’s our girl,” Nikolai coos with a bright smile. “Welcome back, love.”

His hands smooth gently over your thighs and you hum at the soothing sensation of someone tracing their fingers over your forehead. Blinking up at the person, you realise your head has been placed in Genya’s lap.

“Hello, down there,” she says softly, tapping you on the nose with her fingertip. A bashful expression fills your features as you whisper a quiet response.

“Hi.”

David reaches over towards the coffee table, picking up a large crystal pitcher filled with water that hadn’t been there earlier. He pours a small glassful while Genya helps you into a somewhat upright position.

They seem to know your hands would be unable to hold the glass, still shaking from the remaining adrenaline in your body. David holds the water up to your lips and you drink eagerly. His firm hand at the back of your neck makes you shiver pleasantly.

Once you’ve finished, Zoya places a soft blanket over your body and you nestle your face against Genya’s chest. She presses a kiss to the crown of your head, whilst David traces his knuckles down the length of your spine. His touch is warm even through the fabric of the blanket. It doesn’t take long for you to sink into a heavy slumber.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

A chill brushing over your skin is what wakes you and a shiver shakes your body, nuzzling deeper into the warmth surrounding you on both sides. It’s then that you realise you’re now in a bed, in one of Zoya and Nikolai’s guest rooms. With Aleksander on one side, Alina on the other.

Her head is tucked close to you, she appears to have slid off the pillow in her sleep, now nestled in the space under your chin, her forehead brushing against your breasts occasionally as you breathe. One of her hands is placed on your thigh, trapped between them as you lie on your side.

Aleksander’s arm is draped over your body, his hand resting on the limited mattress space between you and Alina. He seems to be a light sleeper, shifting his position as if he’s sensed your state of awareness.

His voice is rough with sleep as he murmurs quietly,

“Everything alright, milaya?”

You nod. You’re wearing an unfamiliar shirt which you can only assume belongs to Aleksander. After such an intense orgasm, involving so many intimate moments, you’re glad you’re not waking up in a cold and empty bed.

“You stayed with me?”

“Of course.” His lips brush against the shell of your ear. “We didn’t want you to wake up alone.”

Reaching for his hand, you intertwine his fingers with your own, giving him an appreciative squeeze as you whisper,

“Thank you.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

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Aleksander M Tag List: @nyctophiliiiiaaa @jazmin2211 @wooya1224 @seronsalk @veescorneroftheworld

BB Characters Tag List: @rachlovesactors @noortsshift @aikeia @weallhaveadestiny @two-unbeatable-beaters

#glitter & gold au #darklina x reader #aleksander morozova x reader x alina starkov #zoyalai x reader #aleksander morozova x reader #alina starkov x reader #shadow and bone au #shadow and bone x reader

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m--rtyr · 1 year ago

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I tried to watch mid but I'm really bad at caring about characters I don't know (I know it sounds stupid) I just couldn't bring myself to care.

Do you have anything new to do with Daemos culture (I'm looking at the MID wiki.)

I took forever to answer this, I’m sorry.

Basically, yeah, I have a bunch of culture stuff, but… I want to draw some of it and I can’t find my pen… so I’ll ramble about a few things in particular until I can.

Head wear/crowns.

Aaa

(This is copy pasted off of a discord rant I had about it)

Daemos royalty wear these big elaborate head dresses/crowns which accentuate the height of their horns, to make them ‘more intimidating’ and to basically brag about how rich they are, but due to practical and personal reasons, Asch only has his little ring on his horn

The size/material/colour/style of these head pieces will depend on the person, their status and their general reputation. The emperor will have the largest, most elaborate one, whilst lesser nobility will likely just have horn caps made of gold or something

Asch wearing the ring crown is seen as incredibly humble, and traditional in certain Daemos’ cultures, but he mostly just chose it over horn caps because it was his mother’s. Cultures outside of the few certain ones are not fond at all of Asch’s ring crown, however.

Horn caps, btw, if I’m not being clear, are little bits of jewellery that daemos wear on the ends of their horns. They can come in a variety of shapes and styles, but are typically shaped to fit the shape of the daemos’ horns and make their horns look taller. Some, however, opt for fashion over height, though that’s not very common

For this reason, someone being referred to as having a ‘weak neck’ is kind of a way to say that they’re not a good leader/are poor. Since larger headpieces put more strain on the wearer.

Adding on, other stuff not included in the discord rant;

The ‘weak neck’ insult also carries over into an insult to call certain Daemos ugly, as larger horns are seen as more attractive, and, y’know, larger horns = more strain on the daemos’ neck.

This insult can also go the other way. ‘A neck too strong for the horns it carries’ can be a compliment to say someone is skilled beyond their social class, but it can also refer to traitors, as they often have their horns removed. It’s a way to either say 'youre cool for a poor person' or that someone is untrustworthy. it depends, of course, on context.

Asch wearing only the ring crown is seen as a bit of a bad omen amongst the nobility. He is second in line to be emperor (though many support the idea of him usurping the throne after his father passes, so that it may not fall into Rhal’s hands), and such a small crown implies that he will not amount to much, or will fail in some way. Large crowns imply greatness, and yet Asch’s is small. They worry for what it means.

Lady Grandma is referred to as The Empress Mother in my rewrite. Since… Lady Grandma sucks as a character name but I still wanted to make the idea clear. She’s the mother of the emperor, and thus Asch’s grandmother. If Asch’s father were to pass, she would become The Empress Grandmother (since Rhal or Asch would take the throne, and they’re both her grandsons). I like to think the Daemos still like to give titles to their former monarchs, or, more accurately, their former monarchs have too much pride not to have their own unique titles.

Tw for mentions childbirth, complications surrounding childbirth, infant death and death during childbirth.

Royal children whose mothers die in childbirth are often referred to as Blood Princes/princesses, or whatever their title pay be, due to a small superstition that those who are born through violent births may lead violent lives. It is, oddly, a compliment, and many emperors have pushed their wives to have unsafe births in order to birth a Blood Prince son. In a violent culture, it’s something that is sought after. Of course, this leads to a lot of infant death in royal bloodlines, as unsafe pregnancies are also unsafe for the child.

Asch is a Blood Prince. However, the circumstances of his birth were a little more graphic and violent… and whilst his father can be blamed in some part for it, his father did not actually want a blood child, and so did not seek out a violent birth for his son as many did. Alas, Asch was born through blood and misery anyways.

#aphmau #aphverse #rewrite #MID #My Inner Demons #Lady Grandma #Asch (MID)

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unnamednarrator · 8 months ago

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💜 for everlark!

me to me: keep it brief

the ghost of victor hugo: *possesses me*

context for this: modern au, college au, best friends to lovers, surprise kiss/impulsive kiss. enjoy!!!

If anyone but Peeta had suggested this, I would’ve run full speed in the other direction. But for some reason, and it’s always been like this, if he proposes something odd, it intrigues me.

So that’s how I ended up cross-legged on the floor in front of Peeta’s coffee table, blindfolded as he hands me bite-sized pieces of new recipes he’s been testing.

‘Be right back,’ he says and I can hear him shifting noisily as he gets up and goes to the kitchen.

I take a sip of water to cleanse my palette. So far, my favourite has been his “new spin” on a pain au chocolat. I don’t know much about the pastry but it was the most chocolaty so I was happy.

Peeta comes back and I hear the sound of bread being torn off. A moment later, the smell hits my nose. I know this one. It’s my favourite. I don’t need to taste test these. He knows I love them.

For the first time since putting the blindfold on, I hook my thumb on one end and draw it up so I can see Peeta with one eye. He’s already watching me, hands frozen on the half destroyed cheese bun. I offer him a small smile and his shoulders sag down as he returns it. I tug the blindfold the rest of the way off and drop it on the coffee table. Then I scoot closer to Peeta until our knees are touching. He doesn’t move a muscle. Doesn’t even blink. Slowly, I lift my hands, inch by inch, until they’re resting on his cheeks and lean in closer to him until the distance between us is truly a technicality. Then, with an almost imperceptible tilt of his chin, his lips brush against mine. The tiny point of contact sends a bolt of electricity through every cell of my body.

And it becomes the start of a full-on thunderstorm.

wrote this whilst waiting for my dinner to finish lmao. excuse any typos. thanks for sending in this prompt @bbrooklynbabe 🧡💚

from this ask game !

#ask game #ask answered #everlark #everlark fanfiction #my writing

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fandomwritingbit-main · 2 years ago

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King Dice collecting a debt

A/n: just found this on my old computer, it's a little something I wrote two years ago.

Warnings: violence, injury, debt collecting, gang ideology, threatening and aggressive behaviour.

Nothing could describe the fear that would run through people’s veins when King Dice banged on their door. His reputation really did precede him. The whole Isle knew of King Dice, so named because he ran the underground gambling scene sponsored by the Devil himself, his self-proclaimed comrade. In reality, it was more of a one-sided relationship, the Devil getting Dice to do him favours and collect his debts- with Dice more than happy to comply.

Regardless, when the well-dressed kingpin knocked on a door looking for the money someone owed him, it was bad news. Even if he started off with a jaunty showtune, whistled away as he rapped the door frame, even if he was in a good mood, even if they were a pretty little thing that he liked the look of: they were in for a terrible time.

They could try and hide, not answering. Praying that he’d assume they weren’t home and depart. But he could always tell that they were there.

“You know who it is: let me in.” His tone was oddly playful for a man who had come with the intention of beating the frighteners onto someone.

The knock would be brisk and stately, no doubt drawing the attention of neighbours, who would shut their curtains enough to not be seen, leaving only a small slit for viewing. Spying the gangster as he waited. There’d always be a lackey with him, but Dice preferred the more personal touch to debt collecting.

“I ain’t got time to mess ‘round.” They must have known that by hiding they were only making it worse, but still the fear prevented them from answering. If they let him in, perhaps he’d have had more respect for their... ‘cojones’, maybe go a little easier on them even. But they never did and so he didn’t need to uphold that end of the bargain.

Sooner or later, he grew impatient, and the distinctively nerve-wracking sound of a door being booted off its hinges alerted the homeowner that their plan had not worked in the slightest.

His hand smooths back his hair that had been displaced from the act of dislodging the front door and he cast a rather sinister smile at the figure cowering in the corner. At first this Cab Calloway look-alike may come across too dandy for this line of work, but beating, torturing and tax collecting were next to nature to him.

“If you’re playing the ‘I’m not home’ game, next time you may want to take your car off the drive.” He grinned, showing rows of immaculate teeth. “But if you have an intelligent bone in your body - there won’t be a next time.”

“Look, uh Mr Dice. I ain’t got your money, alright? But I will! Just give me two days, I can-” Whilst they pleaded, he walked fully inside the room, having a look at any trinkets, family photos dotted around, anything he could use to send his message.

“It is a lovely place you’ve got here. What a delightful clock.” His white-gloved hand took the piece of decor from the wall, turning it over and inspecting it. The owner gulped, watching the intruder hesitantly.

“Looks too expensive for you. Is it stolen?” He mocked.

The man’s eyes widened in fear as Dice approached. “It uh was a present- for the Mrs.” He said, following the object with his gaze. It was easily the nicest thing in this run-down property and Dice intended to use that.

Dice kept his hand on the clock against the wall, encasing the man for a few moments before letting out a hiss between his teeth. He looked him dead in the eye and the small pupils of the man pleased him.

“You’d think that someone with such a stunning timepiece would know that he was late with my fucking money.” He spoke harshly, his spit flying towards the owner, punctuating the syllables by gesturing with the clock.

Letting his face soften for a moment, a smile began to grace his lips as he shook his head, the man against the wall breathed out a sigh of semi-relief. It was cut short by a fearful intake of breath, when Dice suddenly smashed the object against the wall, mere centimetre from the man’s face. So close his ears were ringing.

He took the clock, turning it over to look at the face.

“Would you look at that. Its stopped. I’ll leave it here...” He brought his face very close to the man before saying the last part. “That way you can tell the coppers exactly when I arrived.”

The homeowner was about to speak but Dice put a finger to his lips indicating him to shut up.

“Let me guess: You ain’t gonna tell no one, huh? You’re gonna get me my money, right?” He smiled, nodding his head almost pityingly. “Yeah... no it's too fucking late for that.” King Dice stepped back and to the man’s horror began taking off his jacket. Then his waistcoat. Undressing down to his undershirt, hanging each expensive garment on the coat hook, like he owned the place.

“What are you...?” He asked, not even able to finish his sentence, as he just watched struck dumb.

“Oh, please excuse me. That jacket’s new.” He said with half a laugh at the man’s wince: at last, this fool was clocking on. Truth be told, it was part of Dice’s intimidation game and part practical, he certainly knew how hard it was to get blood out of suede. Not to mention a white shirt.

Not even 15 minutes later, Dice was walking out the door semi-dressed, with his jacket slung over his shoulder, humming a tune as always. He stopped next to the doorway, using a mirror there to check his reflection. Though his clothes were spared due to his intervention, there was blood splatter down the side of his face. Oh well, he thought, sends a message, don’t it? He checked his teeth, running his tongue over them before looking over a shoulder and shooting the man on the floor a smirk.

“Three days. You ain’t got what you owe then, I’ll come back. Only that time I'll stick around and wait for the family to come home.” The man just stared at him, knowing the threat was simply a promise. He didn’t have the agency to respond, just looked at him, through a black eye, mouth bleeding and his right arm cradled by the other.

“Might wanna get a doc to take a look at that.” He said with a mean laugh, sauntering out of where the front door was, leaving the fella to sort himself and the door out.

#cuphead #king dice #king dice x reader #king dice x you

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urb3stg1rl · 1 month ago

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From Soliloquies to Promos: A Short Essay Explaining why Sports Entertainment Wrestling is Modern Day Live Theatre

so, as an english major taking a class on Shakespeare, I had to write an essay on where Shakespeare has been mentioned in modern day pop culture... the wrestling fanatic in me had to find a way to mention shawn michaels and bret hart in my level 3000 class' essay. I couldn't turn in the whole thing and i'm slightly proud of it. so enjoy!

When most people think of William Shakespeare, they envision elaborate Elizabethan-era costumes, terribly taught ninth-grade English classes, and dusty old books carrying language so archaic you need a translation to read along. Conversely, in wrestling, you have loud mouthed, larger-than-life characters delivering body slams, chair hits to the back, and lots of blood. Who in their right mind thinks of combining Shakespeare with sports entertainment wrestling?

The answer is many people, so why conflate the two? Some argue that wrestling is modern-day live theatre with storylines driven by complex characters, "Heels" that mimic Shakespearean tragic heroes and machiavelles, and promos that read like soliloquies if you are high enough. These three main aspects and many others make the combination of the two almost inevitable.

What if Macbeth was an up-and-coming pro wrestler in 1984 New Orleans willing to do anything, terrible things, to get his championship belt? The Crimson Cage by John Lees' is a five-book horror comic that reimagines Macbeth as a pro wrestler already on top locally. Everything changes when Chuck Frenzy finds himself in an encounter with a terrifying being after a match who tells him that he will "hold the title, claim all the spoils of wealth that go with it. You will be recognized as the greatest wrestler in the world" (Lees 12). The reader follows Chuck Frenzy as he takes down the current championship holder, Van Emerald, the stand-in for King Duncan, murders his long-time friend Mais, and watches his wife and manager, Sharlene Frenzy, fall into madness.

Each volume of the comic series follows each act of Macbeth, and while not everything is one-to-one accurate with the play, you see how close the two pieces of media are. It is not that far of a stretch to equate a crown with a championship belt, turn castles into locker rooms, and murderous reigns with ruthless heel turns. However, Lees is not the only person who has combined wrestling with Shakespeare.

"Good John, Sir Cena, whilst thou lay on thy stage upon thy bleak heap, pray my word reach thine ear… thou dost maintain an expertise that I excuse myself hence, and that honor is bearing thy lips to Lord McMahon's ass" is not what CM Punk said in his infamous "Pipe Bomb" promo before leaving the WWE. That is how BleakOrbitStudios reimagined the infamous promo in their YouTube video titled "Wrestling with Shakespeare- The CM Punk Pipe Bomb Promo."

Phil Brooks said: "John Cena, while you lay there, I want you to listen to me… There is one thing you are better at than I am, and that is kissing Vince McMahon's ass" (CM Punk 2011). Barry F. Hess states in his article "On Shakespeare and Wrestling" that "the two may appear to occupy opposite ends of the storytelling spectrum, but a closer examination reveals just how similar they really are."

This explains a huge reason why wrestling and Shakespeare come together so seamlessly: the storytelling. In recent years, wrestling has become known to many as "sports entertainment" because that is a better explanation for what it is as it has moved away from true fighting and more into entertainment.

Many outsiders dismiss wrestling as "fake," but for fans and performers, the power and draw of wrestling does not come from its realism– it is the narrative being told. Every PPV and episode of WWE, TNA, AEW, and so on are all live performances that often follow themes of ruthless ambition, love quarrels, and revenge. Macbeth translates so well into sports entertainment because they both tell stories of someone willing to get power no matter what they must do to acquire it, whether that power be a kingdom or a belt.

Each night, another episode of Raw or Smackdown airs, the storyline progresses, and the viewer finds themselves invested in plots that twist in such dramatic ways with compelling, over-the-top characters. These characters are often known as faces and heels; some have argued that they mimic Shakespearean heroes and machiavelles.

A prime example of a Shakespearean Machiavellian character would be Richard III, a man willing to do anything to acquire power. Mike Edison describes "heels" in sports entertainment as "simply, the villain… and generally involves cheating and pretty much any other manner of socially unacceptable behavior that will get the job done."

Consider Stone Cold Steve Austin, a rarity as a character who entered the company as a "heel" or a villain, who was there to make everyone's life a living hell for no reason other than because he said so and because he wanted the belt; it is a storyline reminiscent of Richard III and even Macbeth.

Shawn Michael's or Bret Hart's storyline arcs better mimic the story of Macbeth, a once-respected Thane turned murderous king, or a once "face" wrestler turned heel. However, even off-screen characters like Vince McMahon start to look a lot like King Lear.

Take Seth Rollins and his betrayal of his brothers in The Shield, attacking the other member with a steel chair. The shocking move that changed the trajectory of WWE storylines for characters and fans forever mirrored Brutus's betrayal of Caesar in Julius Caesar– a story detailing personal betrayal that reshaped the political world and history.

Back to the critique of sports entertainment being nothing more than a filthy lie, that is almost the beauty of it. Much like the Shakespearean history play Richard III, lines get blurred when the audience is unsure when Richard is playing a role or letting his mask slip during his soliloquies. Wrestling has its version of the soliloquy: the promo. A promo is when a wrestler is told to go into the ring, grab a mic, and speak directly to the crowd as they explain their motives and sometimes their real-life grievances.

The best example of this would be the previously mentioned infamous 2011 CM Punk "pipe bomb" before leaving the company, a speech that broke the fourth wall similarly to Richard III's many soliloquies. Whether or not it is CM Punk speaking into that mic or if it is Phil Brooks, the real name of CM Punk, is a blurred line for many, the same way Richard could be showing us his true colors in Act 5, Scene 3 of Richard III.

Pop culture has embraced this overlap, whether it be Lees' The Crimson Cage or Hess's 2015 article, because of the two art forms' shared commitment to character-driven storytelling. William Shakespeare spun wild stories about the complexities of human relationships that challenge loyalty, pride, fiction versus reality, and ambition. Wrestling does the same thing, just increased amounts of body slams and the same amount of penis jokes (thank you Triple H).

The emotional arcs of sports entertainment are similar if you are familiar with Shakespeare: the rising face, an unexpected betrayal, the hero turned villain, and the emasculating downfall leading to ruin. It is not hard to believe that John Lees, an avid wrestling fan, read Macbeth and saw endless possibilities. In the end, there is no "opposites attract" argument. They are the same at their core: an expression of art in a theatrical setting that showcases characters grappling with their circumstances; sometimes, it is Brutus with a Pugio dagger, and sometimes, it is Seth Rollins with a steel chair.

if u made it this far, i hope u enjoyed <3

an essay on why Dutch Van der Linde is a modern day King Lear is coming soon!!

#inez says bullshit <3 #wwe #shawn michaels #cm punk #seth rollins #stone cold steve austin #sports entertainment #shakespeare #william shakespeare #personal essay #macbeth #the crimson cage #richard iii #king lear #niccolo machiavelli #john cena #triple h #hunter hearst helmsley

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miracleandplagueau · 2 years ago

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So, here's a thing about Marinette.

She is a kind, rather cultured person, agrees to a lot of things, but also knows when to stand her ground and say no. The averagest of average protagonist models you can write with the exception of her obsessive personality trait. About Derision later, but she might possibly be one of the blandest characters I've seen in popular media

While watching Demon Slayer's finale yesterday, I realized something. Marinette is very much like Tanjiro. She can be both kind and badass when needed, be humble and be confident whenever the writers need her to be. Marinette is like Tanjiro -- written to be liked. She wasn't written to be unique or stand out from the crowd nor was she ever supposed to make a breakthrough in how to write a compelling protagonist to root for. She is a vessel. An empty vessel to watch in the background, because once you start analyzing her, it's over for your sanity

But why is she so hated then... She's so kind, so extremely helpful. A person everyone can get along with (famous people count too I suppose), but she also has her own frustrations like deal with brats who apparently targetted her as their victim for no apparent reason!! She has struggl-- It's nothing new. Look at it a little closer, go in depth and tell me that she has a consistent personality. She's more of a big pile of clay that the writers will model and shape according to their mood and how they want a certain storyline to end. Even Chat Noir has more consistent personality than her despite being neglected by both his own father and the writers. I guess more isn't always the merrier.

Is it actually hard to give YOUR PROTAGONIST a DAMN CONFLICT?! HER ONLY CONFLICT IS WHETHER SAYING "HI" TO ADRIEN WILL RUIN THEIR FUTURE TOGETHER. GIVE HER FLAWS GIVE HER CONSEQUENCES MAKE HER LEARN THE LESSON THE HARD WAY

Actually, I take it back. There is one conflict. Well, "conflict" or rather a turning moment for her is when she loses all miraculouses, which is followed by a nasty panic attack. That's it. That's all I could think of from the top of my head.

The only thing that really makes her stand out is her obssessive nature towards Adrien and we got some insight on why in the season 5 episode Derision and you know what I have to say about that? Fucking BULLSHIT. In a very short summary, Marinette crushed on Kim, but he humiliated her whilst working with Chloe. After that event, she decided she will only confess to someone when she knows them through and through. Putting aside the fact that we only then found out that Marinette had a friend that wasn't Alya, It's actually a total asspull in terms of Kim's behavior. Why would Marinette be friendly to Kim in Dark Cupid when he did something like THAT to her? Why is he potrayed as a funny, a little misguided himbo in the friend group - did nobody actually know about what's happened? I mean obviously they had to so why is everyone pretending like everything is fine? Why is SHE pretending everything is fine? Did she forget?! The answer is no, because Derision was not planned from the beginning. Thomas heard that his beloved protagonist isn't liked and went back to the drawing board to cook up some fake depth to her. Despite what I said, I'd actually love to see an episode like that, maybe Chloe IS the bitch we're lead to believe she is and I could've accepted it as a valid explanation to both Marinette behavior and her cruel, unchanging nature....

IF IT WAS IN SEASON ONE OR TWO

Putting a lore piece like that in the final season of the story is actually fucking ridiculous. Do you really expect me to care NOW?! When we're like 15 episodes from the FINALE OF THE SHOW? Na-ah, absolutely fucking not

Everytime I see a post praising Derision for how well written it is my stomach does a fucking cartwheel this is not an exaggeration

Marinette is like Zoe except Marinette is actually an asshole sometimes. It would be good If she was! I want to see an asshole protagonist where I'll have to see them change before I start rooting for them, but Marinette is neither changing, evolving or facing consequences. Using a miraculous for her personal gain and lashing out as Ladybug on Lila? it was a good fucking moment. I found it uncomfortable and embarassing to watch AND THAT'S A GOOD THING. IT HAD LONG LASTING CONSEQUENCES in form of Lila being a menance in return. Then again, I can't exactly praise Lila because she's equally as stupid- sorry, everyone's brains and common sense seem to evaporate when they're in Lila's closest proximity, but that's where they're similar. Everyone seems to lose their awareness when Marinette does her puppy eyes to break into a house too.

She is genuinely getting harder to watch and don't even get me started on season 5 because I've seen the leaks alright

#miraculous lb #miraculous ladybug #miraculous fanworks #miraculous #ml salt #ml writers salt #miraculous salt #marinette salt #ml s5 spoilers #ml season five #ml season 5 #miraculous s5 #miraculous s5 spoilers #miraculous derision

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masdane · 2 months ago

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hi!! i just watched your it crowd drawing speedpaint, i love seeing an artists process :3 i have a bunch of questions/thoughts that i thought up whilst watching, no pressure to answer any of them tho :]

first off i LOVE the taste in music. what are the last 2 songs? im almost certain the geeks in love one is lemon demon but im not sure about the other one :{

do you do your rendering over/on top of the lineart? it gives the piece this really cool messy/painterly look!! its something i need to mess around with more, i feel that my work is a bit too clean and neat DJDKFSKD

how do you do your colouring? i saw that you render in greyscale and add colour after, i feel like that would rlly speed up the process :]

roys shirt is an ace attorney reference right? i saw that the shirt had the whole "almost christmas means it wasnt christmas" quote at first, and didnt realise that that was being referenced LOL

-- an art student who looks far too deeply into any art it sees AJDSJFIKD

Hi!! I'm so glad you enjoyed the speedpaint - you got the Geeks in Love, and the other song is Private Idaho (B-52's) ! I did do the render over the lineart cause I'm also trying to make my drawings look more loose, and I messed around with gradient maps for the colours - (the tutorial I used is here) but I think it would have been easier to use if I had seperated each coloured object per layer, since you gotta make a new gradient for each thing and it got messier the more colours I added (I had one rendering layer RIP), so I ended up colouring the background manually for the most part. And yeah Roy's shirt is an Ace Attorney reference I'm so glad someone picked that up lmao

#ask

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greyminyoon1 · 1 year ago

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LOST ON YOU

Warnings & Genre- slight angst, minor character death.

Authors note- hey, just something that was rotting in my notes. I am in no means a writer but constructive criticism are welcomed ☝🏼

——-

Funeral homes are never anyone's favorite. definitely not when its one of your own people. a person you had once held so close to heart, maybe not during that moment but you did soon realize the impact of thier presence in your life.

Mr.Jeong was a constant in every students life in Hanseong high school. you would see him by the gate,the corridors, the ground ,the man was omnipresent. students never got how he did it. even with his tough exterior he was one of the most loved teachers. the lack of space in the funeral home would say otherwise.

heesung watch's the crowd die down slowly from the corner of the hall. his eyes shift from the portrait of Mr.Jeong displayed on the wall to the three boys sitting across him. niki doesn't seem to have taken the news too well, his head hanging low with equally exhausted boys on the either side of him. sunoo’s swollen eyes and now puffed face give away the tears hes been trying to hold. jungwon just looks deep in his thoughts but heesung knows thats far from it.

heesung doesn't really know how to deal with their pain, let alone his own. his gaze shifts back to the portrait in front but his attention is taken away from the three boys now sitting in front of it. sunghoon catches heesung staring, returning it with the same intense glare.

---

Flashback

“jeong nim!”

the professor walks to the notorious dozen of students with a slight smile. it was always hard to bid farewell to the students every year especially the set of students who frequently visited detention or seen knee bent outside in the halls with their arms up bickering with one another. Though he thinks this batch would forever have a piece of him. While they bicker over who would be taking the picture first with their favorite teacher, few of them do not let the pooling eyes of their teacher go unnoticed.

“okay, lets stop and take a group picture now” , mr.jeong says blinking away his watery eyes. the eight kids scramble up smiling wide with the teacher in the middle of the frame.

click.

‘seonsengnim i need a single one!’, niki shoves the others away whilst pulling his teacher to another background. “your not even graduating until the next two years, you punk!”

click.

“jae-in ah!”, Mr jeong calls out motioning her to come take a picture with him with a stiff smile

her focus shifts from the subjects on her camera, peeking with a small ,“ aren't you getting too sentimental today seonsegnim?”, earning sinkers from the boys. she hands the camera over to sunghoon, making her way to Mr.Jeong.

click.

“dont forget to send those to me.”

who knew jae-in had plans of getting away with those pictures.

---

Jungwon’s the one who breaks this unsaid game of pride and encourages the eldest to just be civil. thats how the seven boys find themselves in a table drowning themselves in soju. the rooms almost empty, except for the seven boys and few other relatives. the boys looked up at each other once a while but mostly found the soju glass interesting enough to pour their thoughts into. With the past preoccupied on their mind, it was sort of a bittersweet moment.

—-

Flashback

the sound of crashing waves with occasional yells from the boys and the sweet melody of guitar strings fill the space, jae-in sits between sunghoon and jay watching rest of the boys play in the sea. she likes the feel of sand slipping away from her fists, mindlessly repeating the act while watching the boys. Sunghoon sits on her left drawing shapes on the sand as jay plays his guitar on her right.

“dinner is on me.” jae-in says in a monotonous tone. “your part-time jobs must be treating you well finally”, Sunghoon snickers while dusting off his hands and stands up to stretch.”im gonna take a dip, you both should join”, he knows very well you wont while his other friend may eventually. The pair watch him jog his way to the boys.

“is something up?”, Jae-in doesn't show how much that question affects her, answering him back with a question again, “what would be?”.

Jay has stopped playing the guitar, his one arm thrown over the instruments body while his other still hold the chords. Jae-in thinks about how fitting he looks with this instrument, maybe them joking about him becoming someone famous or getting into a band dint seem too far off.

Jay’s mind is preoccupied with what he had witnessed last night, the goons you were pouring drinks for seemed to be too familiar with your name for his liking. He never doubted you on your self defense skills, just maybe sometimes you should know to lean on someone, mentally. But when he looks at you at this moment, chocolate hair flowing with the wind, an oversized jacket which most definitely is from one of the boys and your bored eyes looking at him, He stutters.

“ju-just because”. He doesn't have it in him to question you further.

He should have.

He should have asked when you offered to take a dip in the sea.

They should have asked when you started recording every moment of the day.

They should have asked when you raised a toast on the dinner table.

They should have asked when you smiled a bit too wide.

They should have asked before you left.

They would have. you were just too convincing.

—-

They were all in a room, together yet so far apart on their train of thoughts.

The ticking of the clock passed by seconds to minutes to an hour or two, the empty room now consisting of only the boys. The tube lights flicker while the janitor mops the floors for the last time after a long day. It was a que for the boys to leave.

The clicking of boot soles grab the attention of the seven boys. Black sunglasses, black hanbok covers the new identity. Jae-in did not expect anyone to be here, let alone the seven boys she has never seen for the past few years. Or just maybe she was willing to try her luck.

Shes thanks the gods shes worn these ridiculously large glasses,though shes sure it wont take long for one of them to know.

Its almost plausible how the boys don’t recognize her immediately. to say the boys were shocked was an understatement. if the air was solemn and sad all this while, now the room felt as if it were was lacking of air circulation.

she acts plain, just another person to bid her goodbyes to. but Mr.Jeong wasnt just any person to her. Midst all the silent chaos in the room she makes her way towards her only family.

Mr.Jeong‘s portrait smiling at her doesnt help the guilt shes been bottling up. for all the things he had done for her in high school to even the last moments of his death. your uncle told you he would never resent you though you did not know if you had the ability not to resent yourself.

After what seems like an eternity of time and memories flashing back, Jae-in knows what she has to face as she turns towards the exit.

“i really dont know if we should be happy your alive or rip your hair off right now.”, niki’s coarse voice echo's off the hall.

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