#it’s. kinda amazing how little I had to change in that image to make it into Cole

[nightmun]

Hope y’all enjoy some incredibly cursed RD edits I’ve done

Also I specifically saved these to post on a Wednesday because of this image

[empty-blog-for-lurking]

I want to thank my Lord and savior Tom Cardy for posting a song that has the exact vibe I wanted for the relationship of ps8!Lance/ps8!Allura with an oc I have for this au

[gay-dorito-dust]

hellooo, your writing is amazing so far i love it 🫶🏼

Could you do one for Hobie x fem reader, where the reader is friends with SpiderPunk AND Hobie. But she doesn’t know they’re the same person. And one day lovergirl rants about her fat ah crush on Hobie to him??

First off, thank you for enjoining my writing, I try my best with what working brain cells I have left 🤣

Ooh I love this idea very much! But I might make it a two parter cuz I defiantly went off request…oops…

Part 2

You were just minding your business, chilling on the roof top of an abandoned apartment complex, mind a million miles elsewhere on a certain somebody when a flash of red and blue caught your eye and before you knew it; you company of one had became a company of two.

‘Heya Spidey, how are things?’ You greeted.

He shrugs, ‘the usual but what about you lil missis,’ he playfully nudges you, ‘head so far off into the clouds I’m actually feeling a little neglected over here.’ You laughed, shoving him away by his arm. ‘Oh come off it, will you? I just been thinking about this guy I’ve liked for a while now.’ You admitted and Hobie’s interest was immediately peaked.

For as long as he knew you, Hobie could barely remember the last time you had ever admitted to him in fancying someone, besides from a couple of incidences from way back that ended up backfiring; but other then that, you kinda made it a point not to talk about it, maybe in due to him thinking that whoever you did fancy at the time weren’t worth the effort you’d give had you perused them. You had often called him overprotective whenever you tell him about your crush of the week but Hobie would defend himself by saying he was merely looking out for you and didn’t want you getting hurt by some douchebag.

‘You don’t have to defend me from everything Hobie,’ you once told him as you were patching him up from beating the breaks off of your last crush because they were chatting shit about you behind your back, ‘whilst as sweet as it is but you can’t always be there to look out for me.’

‘Watch me.’ He replied, his view remaining completely unchanged. You sighed, knowing that once Hobie’s mind was made up, nothing you nor anyone else could do to change that. He was an akin to that of an immovable object when it came to his beliefs and views and it was amongst the many things you adored and admired about him most.

‘Oh yeah? And who’s the lucky guy?’ He asked casually leaning back on his arms, watching as you brought your knees close to your chest before resting your chin upon them as your eyes gaze out at nothing in particular; something Hobie noticed you often do when you were particularly in your feelings and needed something to hold onto and ground yourself before you became adrift in your own sea of emotions. It was cute to see you tucked in on yourself so tightly that he couldn’t be more thankful for the fact that you couldn’t see how dopey he must’ve looked beneath his mask.

‘Hobie. Hobie Brown.’

He blinked twice, nah, he must’ve heard that wrong, surely, his hearing must be going all scewiff.

‘Hobie Brown.’ He said his own name as though it was the first time he was ever saying it. Upon seeing the way your shoulders drop and your body becoming at ease upon hearing his name, along with the way you smiled gently and how your eyes seemed to beam with newfound light which all had only helped In affirming to Hobie that he did indeed hear you the first time. ‘What is it about the guy that’s got you all up in knots?’ He asked, trying to act as though you didn’t just indirectly admitted that you’ve got a crush on him to him.

‘Where do I start.’ You started, unable to fight against your own feelings that were swelling up within your chest when an image of Hobie appeared in the forefront of your mind, he was sat on your bed, eyes closed as he allowed himself to get lost within his guitar rifts, his calloused fingers expertly transitioned from chord to chord as it were muscle memory. ‘He’s just so cool and awesome and so forthright and opinionated in his views and beliefs that he’s not afraid to back down from a fight should it come down to it.’ You tell him with a sense of fondness in your voice.

Hobie was quick to notice how your hand fiddle with one of the many handmade pins he’s made you that you always paired up with any and every outfit you ever wore, even if they styles did clash but you didn’t seem to care; Whatever the reason for you reaching for the pins were, whether it’d be out of a need to feel out the closest thing you had in regards to him or it was just something you did out of habit, made Hobie warm within his chest that soon spread throughout his body. ‘Sounds like me and this Hobie guy are more alike then I originally thought.’

Your fingers stopped their fiddling and you suddenly looked at him as though you were just now realising something with the way your eyes bore into him, Hobie thought that you might’ve developed the ability to see through the mask that withheld his identity and into him, so much so that he couldn’t help but make a comment on it, ‘stare at me any harder sweetheart and your stare might burn right through my mask.’ You must’ve been deep into your thinking as you didn’t seem to have noticed that he had spoken at all and Hobie was starting to think that he might’ve been too relaxed with you as Spider-Man that you might have started to have it pieced together in your mind; after all you were smart, more so then what you give yourself credit for.

‘Now that you’ve mentioned it you and Hobie do share some of the same attributes and habits, I’m also pretty sure your similar height wise and even though your mask muffled your voice, it fills me with a sense of familiarity that it’s hard for me to put a finger on.’ You said as you leaned closer to him until you were partially merely a breath away from each other. Hobie didn’t know he was holding in a breath until you shrugged ‘but I could just be grasping at a straws, so I won’t dwell on it as much.’ and moved away from him back to your previous position.

As much as he would’ve loved to have you figure out his identity on your own terms. Hobie would prefer it best if he were the one to reveal himself to you but the moments where he wanted to never felt right and he didn’t want to you in danger by doing so, but he knew that there’d come a time where he would be greeted with a choice in wether to tell you the truth as to who he was or continue living like he has currently and potentially loose your trust because of his lack of transparency; Hobie couldn’t bear to think of loosing your trust but just as he has always done since becoming your friend, he was merely looking out for you and for your safety as they were always his top priorities.

[littlejuicebox]

Dadstarion prompt (sorry if I missed the boat on this!) - insecure postpartum Tav, struggling with their new body. Maybe some body worship from Astarion 👀? (Personal experience - I really struggled postpartum with adjusting to my new body, it changed in ways I never even imagined). Thank you and just want to say I love your Astarion 🥰

Adore You

Thanks for your request! Not 100% sure this is what you were looking for, but I already had a mostly finished piece I was working on that definitely fits the body-worship and Tav struggling with her body parts of this prompt. It's smut, though, and when the smut gods bless, I cannot deny their gifts.

Glad you love my Astarion! I adore him. And he adores his Tav. ;)

Summary: You are struggling with your post-partum body. Astarion is here to remind you that he still adores you.

This follows my Dadstarion section of my AstarionxReader series. But no worries, you can read it as a OneShot. Here’s the gist: Astarion is mortal and you have three children together. Gale, named after the Wizard of Waterdeep and the twins. That’s about all you need to know! See my other fics for more info and storylines.

Tags/Warnings: smut with a plot, body image issues, angst w/ comfort, PiV, fingering, oral, light overstim, light daddy kink, breast milk, breast milk drinking, all the depravity i'm generally known for tbh, light creampie kinda?

Word Count: 2.8K

A/N: I'm an unhinged degenerate and no I won't apologize. Also women’s bodies are amazing and can produce life and are beautiful and my Astarion appreciates that about his Tav okay?

“Thank the gods for the nanny,” Astarion says with a dramatic sigh as he enters the bedroom, closing the door quietly behind him, “Gale was about to make me read ‘P is for Peacock’ a third time and I was close to ripping my hair out, darling.” 

You chuckle softly as your husband greets you from where you’re seated at the vanity with a brief kiss and then moves to the small table in the corner of your bedroom to pour himself a goblet of wine. 

“And the twins?” He asks as his eyes watch the red liquid fall into the cup beneath it. He takes a few sips as you speak before setting the cup back down on the table.

“I’ve just fed them not too long ago and now they’re both asleep. Having Winifred to help me get them on the same schedule has been wonderful.” You respond as your husband nods and prepares a second, smaller goblet of wine, which he brings to you.

He settles himself beside you while you finish braiding your hair for bed and hums contentedly, “Perfect.”

Astarion’s hands wrap around your midsection and before you can stop yourself, you feel your body tense under his touch. The silver-haired elf pauses and frowns before retracting his hands, “Do you not want me to touch you, darling? You need only tell me.” 

You sigh and shrug as you finish off the half-portioned goblet in one long drink, mostly to avoid your husband’s gaze,  “It’s not that, it’s— it’s stupid.” 

“Look at me, little love.” He whispers, his fingers coming under your chin as they gently coax you to face him and meet his gaze. He moves forward and presses a soft kiss against your lips before continuing, “I love you. More than anything. You know this. Now, won’t you tell me whatever is the matter so that I can help?”

Your husband waits as you gather your thoughts. It’s complicated, it’s embarrassing. You know it’s silly, and vain, and yet you can’t help yourself. And you aren’t quite sure how to verbalize it all.

“I hate my body.” You finally say, your voice cracking as you speak, and something about finally saying that evil little thought aloud causes tears to spring in your eyes. 

Astarion’s mouth falls open in surprise and then he furrows his brows and quickly wraps his arms around your shoulders, not knowing what to say or do apart from physically enveloping you in his love. 

You continue on, speaking into his neck, sniffling as a few more tears run down your cheeks, “After Gale, I quickly returned to my previous weight. I hadn’t had any stretch marks. But carrying the twins— it’s different, Astarion. And I was expecting it to an extent but I just— I hate my body and I hate the way I look.” 

There is a moment of silence as your husband simply holds you against him, allowing space for your tears. When he speaks, his voice is a soft murmur into your hair, “Not that you should care what I think, but I adore your body, darling. And I love everything about the way you look.” 

You scoff and withdraw from your husband with teary, reddened eyes narrowed at him, “You have to say that.”

“I do not have to do anything,” He retorts, arching his eyebrow in a challenge, “Weren’t you the one that taught me that?” 

When you don’t respond, Astarion continues on, knowing he’s won. He takes your hand in his, gently lifting it to press a kiss against your knuckle. 

“I adore your hands. Which have both slain monsters and soothed our children,” He whispers before trailing kisses up your arm and to your neck where he presses another reverent kiss against those little fang scars. 

“I adore your neck, which once provided me with sustenance I hadn’t known in centuries.” 

Your face is beginning to grow hot under his devoted attention and compliments, and you move to shrink away from your husband, but he gently grabs you by the waist. He leans into you and brushes his nose at the meeting point between your ear and neck as he inhales the smell of your skin. 

“Why are you trying to hide from me, darling?” He asks with a little sulky pout, his chin resting on your shoulder. 

“I’m not, I—“ You begin, but Astarion quickly shushes you. 

“Then just be quiet and let me adore you, hm?” He asks before running his tongue against those fang marks, making you shiver. 

You nod slightly and your husband grins, “Good girl. Now, come here.” 

Astarion pats his lap and you slide to sit upon his thighs, forgetting your finished goblet on the floor underneath your vanity stool. He rests his chin upon your shoulder as the two of you gaze in the mirror together. 

“Do you remember when I used to do this all the time?” Astarion asks, not truly waiting for a response before his long fingers trace down the side of your neck, brush along your collarbone, and then wander toward your waist, aiming to untie your dressing gown. He moves slowly and watches your expression in the mirror, waiting for you to give him any indication to stop. 

But you didn’t want him to stop. Despite your feelings about your body, you still deeply crave your husband’s comforting touch. 

The silky fabric slips down your shoulders and pools around your waist, baring you before his adoring eyes. The elf smiles and presses a kiss to the back of your shoulder, still watching the two of you in the mirror. 

“Beautiful,” He whispers as he peppers a few kisses up your shoulder and the back of your neck, igniting a trail of goosebumps across your skin.

Astarion slowly drifts his hands up your sides before moving to cup a heavy, milk-stretched tit in each hand. The sensation causes you to wriggle. 

His tone is reverent, almost a whisper as he turns his head just slightly and flashes a toothy grin, his lips brushing against your ear as he speaks, “I adore your breasts, which have fed our eldest and now feed our twins.”

He chuckles salaciously before saying the next part, “And which, on more than one delicious occasion, have also fed me.”

Your husband lightly teases circles around your nipples as he finishes the line that he knows will cause you to blush and then gently nips at your ear lobe, earning him a gasp. You feel Astarion’s arousal pressing into your backside as he continues to caress your breasts and uses two fingers from each hand to tease and stimulate your nipples. You arch into his touch and your thighs press together as you feel a growing slickness between your legs from his attentions. 

One of your breasts begins to leak milk, and when your husband feels the warm liquid dripping onto his fingers he hums and brings the digits to his lips. You watch in the mirror as Astarion dips the two fingers into his own mouth and licks them clean while continuing to tease your other breast. 

It isn’t long before that one begins leaking, too, and your lover chuckles in delight as he watches the liquid gold trail down the bottom of your breast and languidly drip down your stomach. 

The elf brings two fingers to slowly swipe up the stream of white liquid. Then he brings those same fingers to your lips, prompting you to open your mouth.

“Good girl,” He purrs before pressing those two digits against your tongue. Astarion lingers for a moment and you shut your eyes as you eagerly wrap your lips around his slender fingers and suck. You hear a little hum by your ear and feel your lover’s cock twitch in delight underneath you as he observes the scene.

“You are a vision, love.” He murmurs, as he slides his hand away from your lips, “Now, let me take care of you the way you deserve.”

The elf gestures for you to stand, causing your robe to completely slide off your body into a pool on the floor, before he quickly spins you and then hoists you onto the vanity desk. The smallest flicker of that arrogant rogue dances across his face as Astarion moves forward to dip his tongue into your mouth. He unhurriedly teases your tongue against his as he roams his hands up and down your torso until you're panting and moaning softly into his mouth. 

When he retracts, his pupils are filled with lust. His hands come to quickly pull his shirt over his head and then undo the laces of his trousers. Before long he’s standing in front of you in only his small clothes. 

Astarion grabs your hand and guides it to the bulge straining between his legs as he asks, “Do you feel what that divine body of yours does to me, little love?” 

“Yes– my love, I want–” You begin as you eagerly try to delve your hand inside your husband’s undergarments, desperate to free his gorgeous cock. But he catches your wrist and stops you with a soft tut and a playful glint in his eyes. 

“Soon. But not yet, darling. I haven’t quite finished adoring you yet. And I’ve got the best seat in the house.” He teases, before settling himself back onto the vanity bench and grinning mischievously up at you, “Now, be a good girl and open those beautiful, plush thighs of yours for me, won’t you?” 

You oblige, and Astarion takes a moment to admire you, fully barren to him and already soaked with arousal. His arms come under your knees, spreading you wider for him, as he grips your thighs with his hands. Then he turns and begins pressing tender kisses up your thigh. He makes slow work of the task, humming contentedly on his journey toward your sex and always lingering longer in the spots where you’ve developed stretch marks. 

By the time his face is right in front of your mound, you’re positively leaking for Astarion and he groans appreciatively at the sight. 

“Beautiful. I will never tire of seeing that gorgeous cunt dripping for me, darling,” He murmurs and before you can respond, your husband is delving his tongue between your folds and eagerly feasting upon your juices. 

You moan in delight when Astarion brings his tongue to trace around your clit, so familiar with your preferences that it doesn’t take long for him to coax you toward your peak. His tongue dances expertly around the swollen nub, each pass causing your pleasure to build. Two of his long, pale fingers slide into you, meeting no resistance, and he slowly pumps the digits in and out of your walls. 

You grasp onto Astarion’s curls and whine when he adds a third finger, and he knows you’re close, so he continues his ministrations and adds more pressure as he curls his fingers just so. His other hand comes up to find your nipple and tease it between his fingers as you climb the final steps toward your climax. 

A final flick of Astarion’s tongue, a final stroke of his fingers, and you burst with pleasure, whining in delight as your thighs tremble on either side of his head. Your walls spasm and send another gush of arousal onto the elf’s face. You begin leaking breast milk once again. 

“Delicious,” Your husband murmurs as he pulls back slightly to admire the glistening of your sex and then presses forward and takes one more lap of your sensitive folds, causing you to buck into his mouth as he chuckles against you. Astarion languidly runs his tongue up to your stomach, lapping at the thin rivulets of milk running down your torso and covering his face in a shiny layer of your juices and breast milk.

Then he stands to his full height and finally— finally— steps out of his small clothes. His pale cock springs proudly from its confinement, dripping thin strings of pre-come from the reddened tip, just for you. 

“Get over here, Astarion,” You eagerly demand, voice hoarse from your cries as you hook your legs around his torso and pull him against you. 

“Anything for my little love,” Your husband responds, voice full of gravel as he runs the underside of his cock against your slit, using it to lubricate his length. 

And then the head of his cock presses into you and your mouth falls open as Astarion buries himself to the hilt. His thumb comes to lightly tease your still-tender clit as he slowly rocks his hips back and forth. He’s watching your face intently as he thumbs circles around that needy, engorged bundle of nerves. 

You use your legs to pull the elf deeper and he grins before lowering his head so that it’s right by your ear. He takes the lobe in his mouth and suckles gently, causing you to whimper.

“You’ll do one more for me, won’t you darling? You always look so gorgeous when you do.” He coaxes, his mouth so close to your ear his breath tickles the sensitive flesh. And then he’s pitching his hips just slightly, aiming to hit your favorite spot with the tip of his cock. He’s gasping and grunting now as his own need for release starts to overpower him.

You’re almost there. You’re keening with each thrust from Astarion and your walls are clenching tighter and tighter around his cock. 

He moans in response at the sensation before pressing his thumb harder against your clit and rubbing it with single-minded intensity, working you toward release. You begin to relentlessly whimper again and Astarion smiles, his eyes locked onto yours as he watches your face contort in the feeling of immense pleasure.

 “There you go, little love. Let go for daddy.” He whispers, bringing his other hand to palm the ample flesh of your ass. 

And gods, you do. 

The second orgasm ripples through you harder than the first, and you have to clasp your hand around your mouth to stifle your moan. Your walls are pulsing around your lover’s cock as you ride the wave of ecstasy.

You go almost slack and before long Astarion is ripping your hand away from your face and pressing his lips against yours in a bruising kiss as he begins to rut wildly into you, shaking the vanity with every thrust. 

“Gods, the things your body does to me,” He growls as he pulls away from your lips, snapping his hips at a punishing pace as he chases his own release. Astarion’s hand is clutching firmly into your bottom, gripping so tightly there’s sure to be bruising tomorrow. His curls fall in front of his face and his ears begin to turn red as he continues to fuck you into oblivion.

Your husband is trying with every fiber of his being to hold on, to stretch out the delicious sensation of his cock plunging in and out of your walls, but every stroke into your tightness is pushing him further and further towards his peak. He snaps his eyes shut, shaking with the effort it’s taking him to restrain himself, to continue enjoying the feeling of your flesh gripping around his.

You are so thoroughly fucked that you cannot do anything but hold onto your lover and keen underneath him as he continues pounding into you.

 “Darling— hells — my love, you’re so tight, I can’t— I’m—“ 

And then with a sudden, sharp inhale of breath, Astarion is burying his thick length inside your walls and trembling as his cock twitches, relentlessly releasing its spend. He gasps into your ear as he slows his hips, but continues to rut, using his still-hard length to press his seed deeper into you. 

His praises come out in an incoherent string as he continues to languidly rock his hips back and forth. You cup his face in your hands as you kiss him, and Astarion smiles into the kiss, finally stilling his hips as his cock softens between you two. 

“Come here, little love.” He whispers, hooking his arms underneath you. You intuitively wrap your legs around your husband’s torso and he easily carries you to the bathroom. When he finally places you down, he brushes a few strands of hair from your face and then places a tender kiss on your forehead.

“Now let’s get you cleaned up.” He says, turning to start the tap before tossing a glance over his shoulder and chuckling lightly, “And then I have to fix your braid, dear… I’m sorry to tell you that I ruined it.” 

“I think you might have also bruised my ass,” You respond, turning to flash your bottom at Astarion. 

He drops down on his knees to examine the curve of your ass, one nimble finger brushing against the blooming blue marks. You let out a little whine in response, the flesh still tender. 

Astarion presses his lips onto the bruise and lingers for a moment. Then he pulls away and frowns slightly, eyes glossing across the marks before he looks up at you and says, “I’m sorry, darling.”

“It’s okay,” You respond, glancing back to grin over your shoulder. You see your husband peering up at you, the picture of devotion, “I enjoyed it.” 

“Did you, now?” He asks with an amused smirk, his eyebrow cocking in that signature arrogant way of his. 

You nod just slightly as he places another kiss against those little bruises. His hands travel up your thighs, brushing against the wetness dripping from your sex and onto your legs. Two fingers tenderly stroke between your drenched slit. 

“Hmm, and what do we have here, little love? Is this something else that needs cleaning? Won’t you let me take a look?”

You blush but oblige anyway, leaning forward over the counter and exposing your sex, leaking with Astarion’s seed and your arousal. 

He grins and licks a long strip between your folds, causing you to buck slightly and whimper at the stimulation on your still-sensitive cunt. 

“Too sensitive? Want me to stop?” He asks gently from behind you, one hand wrapped around your thigh.

“No, keep going.” You urge him, bending forward to further reveal yourself to him, eager to feel his skilled tongue pressed into you once more. 

A small groan of appreciation from your husband is all you hear before he delves his tongue back between your legs, working to clean up the mess he made. 

The bathtub overflows and spills water onto the floor before he’s done adoring you. At least for tonight.

[kirammanswifey]

《A Love Written in Pain(t)》

Ekko

writer's note: i'm sorry for making my boy suffer again, ekko deserves better but i'm a sucker for drama. anyways, this little (pretty long) scenarios comes from my arcane imagines, i'll let the link down there for anyone is interested, also i'll be posting a story for each one of those scenarios for this week, tomorrow it's mel's turn ;)

link:

warnings: fluff, angst, terminal illness, death of oc, ekko is a romantic sweet talented baby, reader can be a jerk sometimes but she kinda cool sometimes.

The music vibrated in the air, blending with the scent of fresh paint and street food. You had come to the urban festival on a friend's recommendation, but you never imagined it would be an afternoon that would change your life. Artists were filling the city's gray walls with bright colors and messages of hope, and among them, one boy stood out.

His white hair contrasted with his skin, and the agile movement of his hand as he slid paint onto the wall was almost hypnotic. The mural he was creating seemed to come alive with every stroke: a girl holding a broken clock, surrounded by gears that spun toward nowhere. The image had something deeply melancholic about it, as if telling a story only a few could understand.

You watched him from afar, too shy to approach, until he noticed your presence. He turned his head and smiled at you, his eyes shining with a mixture of curiosity and kindness.

"Do you like it?" he asked, coming down from the scaffolding with the same ease he seemed to do everything.

"It’s... impressive. But it also feels sad, like it’s about a loss or something that can't be recovered."

His eyebrows raised slightly, surprised. "That's exactly what I wanted to convey. It’s about time. How we always think we have more of it than we really do, but we never know when it runs out."

His explanation fit perfectly with what you had felt while observing it. "I saw it more like a fight... like she doesn't want to give up, even if the clock is already broken."

For a moment, Ekko seemed to look at you differently, as if measuring something invisible. "I’ve never thought of it that way. I like that perspective. I guess that’s what’s great about art, right? It’s a conversation."

You smiled, feeling for the first time like someone understood how you saw things. "I guess so."

"Do you always analyze strangers' murals?" he joked, a playful smile on his lips.

"Only when they make me feel something," you replied with a hint of shyness, but without looking away.

"Well, then that’s a compliment."

Hours passed, but you didn’t even notice as the sun began to set. Talking with Ekko felt like discovering a song you didn’t know you needed in your life. He told you about his workshop, his passion for helping the community, and his dreams of changing the world, one gadget at a time.

At some point, he asked about your story, and although you weren’t the type to open up easily, you felt like you could be honest with him.

"I work with kids," you began, searching for the right words. "At an orphanage near my university. I like to think I can do something for them, even if it’s small. I’m studying psychology, and I want to help people like them... people who feel alone."

Ekko nodded, as if understanding every word. "That’s amazing. It’s like... you take care of people, and I try to make sure they take care of the world around them. Maybe you should stop by my workshop sometime. I work with kids from the neighborhood, teaching them how to fix things, build gadgets. We could join forces."

The enthusiasm in his voice was contagious, but you couldn’t help feeling a pang of doubt. It had been a long time since you let yourself connect with someone new, for reasons he didn’t need to know.

"Really? You take anyone?" you joked, trying to lighten the mood.

"Only if they have a good eye for art and a heart for kids. You seem to qualify."

When you got up to say goodbye, he pulled out his phone and offered you his contact. "In case you decide to visit the workshop."

You took the phone, feeling a mix of excitement and fear. You didn’t know what you were getting into, but something told you that Ekko wasn’t someone you’d easily forget.

By the end of the day, as you walked back home, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. His paint-stained hands, his sincere laugh, and that strange connection you felt from the moment he looked at you.

You didn’t know it yet, but you had just met the love of your life.

A few days after the festival, you still couldn’t get Ekko out of your head. There was something about him that fascinated you: the spark in his eyes when he talked about his dreams, the passion behind every word, his way of seeing the world with optimism despite the struggles. You found yourself re-reading the festival brochure and checking his social media profile, where he shared glimpses of his life: videos of his skate tricks, photos of murals filled with messages of resistance, and small clips explaining how to build gadgets. And pictures of him too and... he was kinda cute.

Finally, you decided to message him.

"Hey, I’m the girl from the mural. You said I could come by your workshop... Is the invitation still open?"

The reply came faster than you expected: "Of course. Come by anytime. The kids will be happy to meet you. Does 4 PM today work?"

The workshop was located in an old brick building in a lively neighborhood. The exterior walls were covered in vibrant graffiti that seemed to tell stories. The main entrance had a huge phrase in bold letters: "We build the future together." When you walked through the door, you found yourself in a space that radiated creativity and chaos in perfect harmony. There were tables filled with tools, parts of half-built gadgets, unfinished murals covering the walls, and a group of kids focused while Ekko enthusiastically explained something to them.

When he saw you, his face lit up, he said with sarcasm: "Hey, the mural girl is here!

You blushed.

"I hope I’m not interrupting," you said, feeling a little shy as all eyes turned toward you.

"Not at all. Actually, come here. I want you to see this."

He led you to a table full of small artifacts and technological pieces. "This is my experiment corner," he said, pointing proudly at the mess. "This is where the magic happens, although sometimes the magic is more frustrating than anything else."

The kids started to gather around, curious, and Ekko introduced you with a warmth that made you feel at home. "She works with kids too. She helps them find their way."

One of the younger ones looked at you with bright eyes. "Really? Do you do cool things like Ekko?"

You bent down to their level, smiling. "I don’t build things like he does, but I try to help people find their strength. Sometimes, the most important thing isn’t what we do with our hands, but with our hearts."

Ekko, who had been listening, looked at you with a mix of admiration and tenderness. "That was deep. I’ll have to write that down for my next mural."

Hours passed in the workshop. You helped the kids with their projects, painted a couple of things with Ekko, and learned more about his life. In a moment of calm, while the kids were absorbed in their creations, Ekko sat next to you, a screwdriver in hand and a thoughtful expression on his face.

"You know? This place means a lot to me," he started, his tone more serious than before. "When I was a kid, there was nothing like this in my neighborhood. Growing up here was... complicated. There wasn’t always someone to turn to when things got tough."

"How did you manage to get through it?" you asked, genuinely interested.

Ekko smiled sadly. "It was thanks to my mom. She always told me that, even though we couldn’t change where we were born, we could change what we did with it. She taught me not to give up, to find ways to transform things, even if they were small. When she died... well, I promised myself I’d do something so other kids wouldn’t have to feel as alone as I did."

He paused, fiddling with the screwdriver in his hands. "At first, I didn’t know how. I just knew I wanted to make a difference. That’s when I discovered skateboarding, art, and technology. They were my escapes. And over time, they became my way of communicating, of creating something that mattered."

You felt a lump in your throat listening to his story. There was something about the way he spoke, the vulnerability behind his words, that made every detail come alive. "You’ve done something incredible here, Ekko. This place... it’s not just a workshop. It’s a home."

He looked at you, surprised by your words, then smiled, although his eyes glowed with contained emotion. "Thanks. Sometimes I wonder if I’m doing enough. But hearing that... it makes me think maybe I am."

"You’re amazing." You squeezed his hand as a gesture of affection and respect, which made him smile shyly.

When the day ended, Ekko walked you to the door of the workshop. "So, what do you think?"

"I loved it! It’s like a refuge from the world."

He smiled, scratching the back of his neck with some shyness. "I try to make it that way. And I’m glad you came. The kids got along really well with you. They liked you."

"And you?" you asked, before you could stop yourself.

"Me?"

"Do you like me?"

For a moment, he seemed surprised by your question, but then he smiled with that spark in his eyes that you were starting to recognize. "I think so."

You said goodbye with a smile that didn’t leave your face the entire way home, carrying the feeling that, in some way, you had found a place where you belonged.

The afternoon sun bathed the streets in a golden light as you walked toward the park where Ekko had arranged to meet you. You weren’t sure what to expect; when he had suggested it, you thought it would be a simple, casual activity. But when you arrived and saw him carrying two skateboards, a mischievous smile on his face, you realized this wasn’t going to be any ordinary day.

“Are you ready to become a professional skater in just one afternoon?” Ekko asked, raising an eyebrow as he held a helmet in one hand and a board in the other.

“Professional? I can barely stay on my feet without falling,” you replied, laughing nervously.

“That’s what makes it fun,” he said, walking up to you to adjust your helmet. His fingers brushed your skin as he fastened it, and you noticed his movements were unnecessarily slow, as if he were looking for an excuse to be closer to you.

“And you? Are you going to wear a helmet or trust your legendary skill?”

Ekko shrugged, smiling to the side. “Nah, I was born for this.”

“Sure, sure,” you replied, nudging him with your shoulder.

The park had a wide track with ramps and flatter areas where beginners could practice. Ekko led you to one of these areas and began with a quick lesson.

“First, keep your feet steady. Don’t look down, look where you want to go. The board will follow your intentions.”

“My intentions? What am I, a witch controlling the skateboard with my mind?”

Ekko laughed. “Something like that. Though, if you were a witch, you’d probably have learned how to fly on this thing by now.”

You tried to follow his instructions, but on your first attempt, the board shot out from under you, and you ended up on the ground.

“Hey, hey! Are you okay?” Ekko was by your side in a second, kneeling next to you as he tried to hold back his laughter.

“I’m fine,” you said, though you could barely stop laughing. “I think the board hates me.”

“No, you just have to conquer it. Look.” He jumped onto his skateboard with a fluidity that seemed to defy gravity. He glided smoothly along the track, doing small tricks to impress you. “See? You just need confidence.”

“Of course, confidence is the only thing I’m lacking,” you joked.

After several attempts, you started to improve. You managed to stay on the board for more than a few seconds, though falls were still frequent. Every time you fell, Ekko was there, offering a hand to help you up, his face a mixture of concern and amusement.

After a while, both of you sat on a nearby bench to rest. Ekko took out his phone and began searching for something in his playlist.

“I’ve got the perfect song for this moment,” he said, setting it to play on the speaker.

Tyler, the Creator’s melodic voice filled the air with the song "See You Again." Ekko looked at you with a smile that seemed to hold something more than just fun.

“Why this song?” you asked, trying to interpret the meaning behind his choice.

“It reminds me of you,” he replied, his tone more serious than you expected.

You paused for a moment, allowing the music to fill the space between you. You knew there was something in his words, something he was trying to say without saying it. But instead of confronting it, you chose to laugh, avoiding the weight of the moment.

“Wow, Ekko, if you wanted to dedicate me a song, you could’ve chosen something less obvious,” you joked, pretending not to notice the gleam in his eyes.

He smiled, but there was something in his expression that made you feel a slight pang of guilt. You knew he was trying to open up to you, and you had deflected it.

As the afternoon went on, the topic faded, but a subtle tension lingered in the air. It wasn’t just about him; it was also about you. There was something you couldn’t share with Ekko, something that weighed on you more with each passing day. Your illness wasn’t an easy topic, especially now when you were just starting to get to know each other.

“Why are you so quiet?” he asked, glancing at you from the corner of his eye as you both walked toward the graffiti area of the park.

“I’m not quiet. I’m… thinking.”

“About what?”

“How easy it is to be with you,” you said without thinking. The sincerity in your words took him by surprise, and you could see his expression soften.

“Well, I’m glad it’s easy. But if you ever need to talk about something hard, I’m here too,” he said, his voice filled with warmth that made you feel guilty.

“Thanks,” was all you managed to respond.

Days later, Ekko took you to the graffiti area. He had been working on something in secret and didn’t want to tell you what it was until he finished.

“Ready to see how I see you?”

When you turned the corner and saw the mural, you were left speechless. It was your face, captured with an astonishing level of detail. Your hair seemed to move with the breeze, and your eyes were filled with a light you didn’t recognize at first. Around your face, Ekko had painted details that only the two of you would understand: small rays of light that seemed to represent hope, and a golden phrase that read:

“Life is short, but art is eternal.”

“Ekko…” you murmured, unable to find words to describe how you felt.

“This is what I see when I look at you. You're art,” he said, shrugging as if it were no big deal.

The mural was more than just an image. It was a reflection of how he saw you: as someone bright, unique, and irreplaceable. As you looked at it, you promised yourself that one day you would tell him the truth, even though you feared losing what you had.

The morning began with Ekko knocking on your door, carrying a huge box that almost covered his face.

"Are you going to let me in, or am I staying here decorating the hallway?" he said, balancing the box.

You laughed, opening the door wide. "What do you have there? A corpse?"

"If I told you, I'd have to kill you, baby" he joked, walking in and setting the box on the table.

Baby, that's how he was used to call you now. It didn't felt wrong, in fact, you liked it. It felt so good when he said it to you. It made you feel special. It made you feel loved. It made you feel his.

"It's for tomorrow's event. We're going to need a lot of help to make sure everything goes smoothly."

"An event? What are you talking about?"

Ekko leaned forward, resting on the table with a smile that combined enthusiasm and a bit of nervousness. "It's for the kids in the neighborhood. I'm organizing a sort of fair. Games, music, food... you know, something to help them forget for a while everything that's going on down here."

The morning passed organizing ideas. Ekko had an almost contagious energy, moving around your apartment like a whirlwind while making lists, dividing tasks, and talking about his plans.

"So, what do you think of a painting workshop? We could get some cheap canvases and brushes. I'm sure the kids would love to express themselves that way."

"I love it," you replied, watching his face light up. "How do you have so much energy for this?"

"It's important," he said, his tone turning more serious. "These kids... a lot of them don't have anyone who really shows them that they matter. If I can do something to change that, even for just one day, I will."

Your heart tightened as you listened to his words. There was something deeply inspiring about his dedication, how he used his own pain as fuel to improve the lives of others.

"So, where do I fit into all of this?" you asked, crossing your arms with a smile.

"Simple. You're my right hand. Plus, no one can resist your brilliant ideas and that smile of yours," he said, winking before turning back to focus on his plans.

In the afternoon, Ekko took you to his loft to check out some materials he had gathered for the event. His home was filled with curious objects: disassembled tech pieces, unfinished paintings, and notebooks full of sketches and notes.

"This place is like your brain made into physical space," you commented, looking around with a mix of awe and amusement.

"Is that a compliment?"

"Definitely."

You went up to the roof, where there was a small area Ekko had transformed into a personal retreat. There, he showed you his next project: a portable device designed to help people with motor disabilities perform everyday tasks with greater ease.

"How does it work?" you asked, taking the gadget in your hands.

"It's a prototype," he explained, sitting next to you. "The idea is for it to adapt to different needs. For example, someone with trouble holding objects could use it for a firmer grip. It's simple, but it could make a difference."

You looked at him, impressed. "Ekko, this is amazing. How did you come up with it?"

"I guess... I've always wanted to fix things. People, places, systems... whatever." He paused, looking at the horizon. "I don't know, I feel like it's the only thing I really know how to do."

The sincerity in his voice moved you. "You're not fixing things, Ekko. You're improving them. That's something very different."

Later, as you both worked on the final details for the event, Ekko looked at you with an intensity that made you feel uneasy.

"Can I ask you something?" he finally said, breaking the silence.

"Sure, go ahead."

"Why do you always keep your distance? Sometimes I feel like you're here, but at the same time, you're not. Like there's something you don't want me to see."

Your heart skipped a beat. You didn't expect Ekko to be so direct.

"I don't know what you're talking about," you said, trying to keep your tone casual.

"Yes, you do," he insisted, his voice firmer. "I've noticed how you avoid certain topics, how you change the conversation when something gets too personal. Is it that you don't trust me?"

"It's not that," you replied, feeling the frustration building inside you. "There are just things I don't need to share. Not everything has to be so... open."

"Not with me?"

His question hit you like a punch to the stomach. You stood up from the chair, unable to stay seated under his probing gaze. "Ekko, it's not as simple as you think."

"Then explain it," he said, standing up as well. "Because from here, it seems like you're more concerned with what you're hiding than with what we have."

What you two had was complicated. You weren't friends, you were more than that, but you weren't a couple either. It was complicated. And you didn't like to think about complicated things.

"You have no idea what you're saying!"

The raised tone of your voice surprised both of you. You felt the stress and physical exhaustion begin to take their toll. Your vision blurred, and the world seemed to tilt beneath your feet.

"Baby, are you okay?" Ekko stepped toward you, but before he could reach you, your legs gave out.

The last thing you heard before losing consciousness was the sound of his voice, filled with panic.

You opened your eyes under a cold, white light. The smell of disinfectant confirmed what you feared: you were in a hospital. You turned your head and saw Ekko sitting next to your bed, his elbows resting on his knees and his hands intertwined.

The room was silent, only broken by the soft sound of the monitor marking the rhythm of your breathing. The sunlight filtered through the hospital window, creating patterns on the floor, but the calm was deceiving. You knew Ekko was worried, hurt, but what worried you the most was what Ekko had started to suspect. You couldn’t keep hiding it, and you knew the time to talk had come.

Ekko had probably been sitting in the chair next to your bed for hours, staring at the wall, lost in thoughts that seemed to consume him. You didn’t know if he hated you or if he was just trying to process what had just happened. After all, you had fallen unconscious in his arms, leaving him with a heavier emotional burden than any gadget prototype or community event. Now, he was paying the price for your secret.

“Ekko?”

He quickly lifted his head, and the mix of relief and worry on his face broke your heart.

When he finally spoke, his voice wasn’t the same as usual. There was something broken in it.

“Baby, what’s going on? What haven’t you told me? The doctor... the doctor told me that...”

It was obvious that the doctor had given him more details than you had wanted to share. You hadn’t planned on opening up to him like this. But something in his gaze, the clear worry, and the deep sadness, made you say what you had kept hidden for so long.

“I know. I’m sorry,” you said, taking a deep breath. “The illness I have has no cure.”

After a long silence, and before everything could completely fall apart, you decided to explain more deeply about the illness that was consuming you because you knew Ekko needed to understand it fully, even though you weren’t sure you could save what was left between you both.

“Ekko… what I have is a rare, autoimmune disease. My immune system is attacking my own organs. It’s called Systemic Lupus Erythematosus, and there’s no cure. It’s like my body is fighting against me all the time, little by little.”

Ekko stared at you in silence, as if he couldn’t process every word. He knew that everything you had said before, although important, wasn’t enough to understand what was really happening.

“When?” he asked, his voice tense, almost inaudible. “Since when?”

“I started feeling bad when I was 23,” you continued, your voice trembling. “It hurt all the time, and the fever wouldn’t go away. At first, I thought it was something temporary. But then I fainted once, and that’s when they admitted me to the hospital. That’s when they told me that what was happening in my body was much worse than I imagined. From there, my life completely changed. My body wasn’t mine anymore. I lost energy, I lost weight, and the flare-ups became more frequent. It’s like my body is in a constant war, and there’s no way to win it.”

The feeling of vulnerability overwhelmed you as Ekko, standing at the door, continued to look at you with a mix of disbelief and pain.

But before he could say anything, you threw out one last statement that seemed to come from the deepest part of your soul:

“And I don’t know how much time I have left, Ekko. I just know that I can’t live knowing I’m dragging you with me.”

Ekko stood still for a moment, processing your words. His breathing became heavier, as if an invisible weight had fallen on him. Finally, his eyes sought yours, and what he saw in them wasn’t surprise. It was like, somehow, he already knew, as if he had sensed it all this time.

“Your parents?” Ekko asked again, his eyes fixed on you, searching for answers that you couldn’t hide anymore.

“My parents don’t know,” you said, letting out a sigh that seemed to come from deep within. “They have no idea. How am I going to tell them that? How am I going to tell them? No… I don’t want them to see me as a project they need to save. I want them to see me for who I am, to see me as their daughter, not as a broken thing they need to take care of. I don’t want to be a burden. I’m not going to be a burden.”

Ekko looked at you, his eyes filled with frustration, but also with a sadness so deep that it made you question whether he really knew you as well as you thought.

“Baby, why didn’t you tell me? Why did you hide all of this from me? Did you think you could protect me from the truth? What were you really protecting—me or yourself?”

The punch of his words was like a gut punch. The wound you had tried to seal with lies and evasions started to bleed, and the emotion overflowed in you like a river that couldn’t be stopped.

“I don’t know…” you stammered, tears threatening to fall. “I don’t know, Ekko. I wanted… I wanted all of this to keep being normal. For it not to be so… so heavy. I wanted to do everything I’ve always wanted to do before… before it ended. I wanted to leave my mark on the world before I’m gone, to leave something that was worth it.”

Ekko began to pace back and forth. His frustration became more palpable, but there was something else in his attitude, something you hadn’t recognized at first.

“That’s not what I’m saying!” he yelled, and the vehemence in his words made everything in the room feel even denser. “I don’t understand why you had to carry all of this alone. Why did you shut me out, baby? Why did you make me believe that everything was okay?”

“Because it was easier that way,” you said, the words tumbling out. “Because what’s happening inside me… how do you explain that to someone who doesn’t understand? How do I explain that my body is already losing the battle, that I won’t be here much longer, that everything I touch will fade?”

The anger in Ekko’s eyes faded for a second, and what remained was a sadness so deep it seemed to swallow the light in the room.

“And what about me, baby?” he said, his voice softer, more broken. “What about us? Did you really think I didn’t care? Did you really think I could go on without knowing what’s happening to you? That I could keep smiling and helping you as if nothing was going to change?”

At that moment, something inside you broke. Without thinking, the words left your mouth, sharp and like a dagger:

“Stop looking for it in me, Ekko. I’m not your mother. I’m not her. Don’t project that onto me! I don’t want to be the memory of what you lost. I don’t want to carry that responsibility, or the guilt of not being what you expected.”

The words hung in the air, and the silence that followed was unbearable. Ekko took a step back, his face contorting with a mix of pain and confusion. His eyes glistened with unshed tears.

“How could you say that?” he whispered, his voice broken, as if every word he spoke cost him more than the last. “I never ‘projected’ her onto you. It’s just… I don’t want you to keep pushing me away. I don’t want you to keep hiding your fears from me.”

And then, both of you stood there, in that emotional abyss that neither of you knew how to cross. Frustration, fear, love, and sadness intertwined in the room, as if time had stopped completely.

Finally, the silence became unbearable. You sat up in bed, defeated, while Ekko turned and walked toward the door. His body tense, his breathing ragged, and the pain in his face made him feel more real than ever.

Before leaving, he stopped and looked at you one last time. “If you had used your psychology for yourself instead of for everyone else, maybe you could’ve avoided this.”

The door slammed behind him with a dull thud, and you were left there, alone, with the echo of his words ringing in your ears.

Time had passed. The days and nights blurred into a mixture of conflicting feelings, unfinished memories, and a void that both of them tried to fill without success. The argument between Ekko and you had left deep scars, although both of you knew it couldn't be the end. Not for you. However, there was something neither of you had been able to face: fear. Fear of love, fear of tragedy, and fear of losing each other before either of you expected it.

You had distanced yourself for a week. A week that had been heavier than you ever imagined. In every corner, in every solitary moment, in every thought, Ekko was there, like a persistent shadow. No matter what you did, how you tried to ignore him, the emptiness left by his departure enveloped you more and more. You tried to convince yourself it was for the best, that moving on without him was the right thing to do. But you were lying to yourself, you knew you couldn't continue without him. Not that way.

Finally, after days of deliberation, finding the strength to face your own fear, you decided to go find him. You had to talk to him, make amends, and make a decision. If you were going to die, you would do it without regrets, without leaving words unsaid, or missed opportunities. You wouldn’t care about the shadows of the future, but you couldn’t keep living with the weight of silence between you two.

You found yourself standing in front of his door, hands trembling and heart pounding in your chest. You knew what you had to say, what you wanted to say, but the words seemed stuck in your throat.

The door slowly opened, and there he was, Ekko, with that gaze that, though intense, still carried a hint of sadness. There was something in his face that told you he had been searching for you in his mind as well, though his eyes didn't yet recognize it.

"Ekko…" you finally said, your voice trembling, "I need to talk to you. Can I come in?"

Without saying a word, Ekko took a step back and opened the door, inviting you inside. The atmosphere in the room was heavier than you remembered, as if everything unsaid still lingered in the air.

You stood in front of him, your eyes fixed on his, while the words that needed to come out didn't come immediately. But in the end, you decided.

"Ekko, I know I failed you. I know, and I’m deeply sorry. It was never my intention, it never was." You took a deep breath, struggling to control the emotions threatening to overwhelm you. "But I'm here because… because I need to know if you're still willing to fight with me. If you're willing to continue this battle, to stay by my side for as long as I can."

Ekko stared at you for a moment, his face impassive, but his gaze was full of something you couldn’t decipher. There was a long pause, and then, with a sincerity that made you shiver, he responded:

"I’ve always been willing, baby. From the moment I met you, I’ve been willing to fight for you, for what we have. I don’t care what comes, I don’t care how long it is. What matters to me is that you don’t leave, that you don’t leave me behind."

Those words were everything you needed. No more doubts, no more fears. You embraced his answer with your soul, with the certainty that, finally, both of you were ready to accept the truth. The truth of who you were, what you felt, and what the future held for you.

From that day on, things changed. Although you knew each moment was a fleeting gift, you decided to make the most of it. Ekko never stopped being by your side, and you did the same for him. You were determined to live intensely, no matter how short the life you had left. And he, he was willing to love you until the end.

He accompanied you to every medical appointment, always with a smile, always willing to do anything to lighten the pain caused by the treatment. The hospital visits weren’t easy, but his presence made everything more bearable. He held your hand before entering the consultations, hugged you after every diagnosis, and never let the moments of uncertainty crush you.

"I don’t want you to be afraid," you said one day, after one of your doctor visits, while walking together through the streets, taking a break at a small café. "But I know you feel it. I know every time we go in there, it kills you a little inside."

Ekko looked at you, his gaze full of both pain and tenderness. "It’s not fear," he replied, his voice soft. "It’s not knowing how to save you. I don’t know what to do when I see you so fragile. All I can do is be here, by your side."

And that was enough. Even though both of you knew you couldn’t stop time, nor the illness, what you could do was share every second, every laugh, every small victory, and every defeat.

But it wasn’t only moments of pain and fear. There were also moments of joy, of beauty, and of creation.

Together, you started working on the project you both dreamed of—the gadget you had envisioned, which could change the way the world saw technology. Even though your health was becoming more fragile, Ekko made sure you didn’t stop. You worked side by side, sharing ideas, making decisions, and facing obstacles, but always together. It was your way of fighting, of resisting, of holding on to life amidst the chaos.

One day, while working on the final design, Ekko surprised you with an idea. "How about, in addition to all this, we paint something? Something that’s ours, something that represents what we’re doing together."

At first, you didn’t completely understand what he meant, but soon you did. Together, you would create something more than just a gadget. You would paint a mural, one that symbolized not only your dreams and love, but also the struggle you shared. The mural would represent life, love, and hope, even though you knew time was limited.

In your mind, that mural became the testament of your story, a reminder of what you had built together. The colors shone on the wall, the shapes wild and beautiful, just like your love. The mural wasn’t just a work of art, but also a promise. The promise that, no matter what else might crumble, your love would never fade. No matter how much time you had left.

The last strokes were made one sunny afternoon, in a deep, shared silence. The piece was finished, and as you stepped back to admire it in its entirety, both of you knew you didn’t need words to understand what it meant.

The mural was more than a reminder of your love; it was a testament to what you had built together, of how, even in the darkness, you had found light. Though the future remained uncertain, the mural would stay there, eternal, as a trace of what once was and would always be.

As the days passed, time seemed to grow more valuable, more scarce. You knew that every minute spent with Ekko was a gift. And although illness had taken much from you, it had given you something you never imagined: a deep, real love that feared no tragedy.

One afternoon, while resting together in his loft, Ekko looked at you seriously, more serious than you’d seen him in a long time. In a soft voice, almost as if afraid of the answer, he asked:

"Would you like to be my girlfriend?"

You paused for a few seconds, feeling the weight of the question. But in that moment, something inside you broke. You smiled tenderly, a smile full of love and resignation.

"Ekko," you said softly, moving closer to him, "we’re so much more than that."

The smile he gave you was the answer both of you needed. You didn’t need labels, you didn’t need promises of an uncertain future. The only thing that mattered was that, in that instant, you shared something so deep and real that it didn’t need to be defined by words.

And, without another word, your lips met in a first kiss, a kiss full of love, despair, and hope. A kiss that marked the beginning of what both of you knew would be a short story, but one that would last a lifetime in your hearts.

The weeks following the reconciliation were a whirlwind of emotions. Even though you knew time was running out, you decided to live each moment with Ekko as if it were the last, because in reality, it was. Sometimes, the smiles were forced, but in the most sincere moments, you could see in his eyes the reflection of a love so strong it took your breath away. Every time he looked at you, every time he held your hand, there was a mix of hope and pain, but neither of you wanted to face the inevitable.

The illness progressed rapidly. Every day, your body seemed to fall apart a little more. The doctors had told you, warned you, but you never imagined how quickly the end would come. You had learned to live with the pain, the fatigue, the moments of weakness, but nothing had prepared you to see Ekko closely watching the changes happening inside you.

You had already told your parents about it, and when you did it he was there with you, by your side, ride or die. And of course they didn't take it well, but there was nothing they could do. They just let you be happy with Ekko.

Sometimes, when you woke up in the morning, you’d see him sitting beside you, his gaze lost in some undefined point, as if he were waiting for you to wake up from the shared dream. He’d ask you how you were feeling, and you’d always say you were fine, even though the truth was you could barely bear the weight of your own body.

You saw him trying to distract you, taking you to places that made you happy, but you knew nothing could escape that reality. He didn’t want to accept what was happening, and neither did you, but neither of you wanted to say it out loud. No one wanted to mention what was already so obvious.

That night, after another doctor’s appointment that you could barely endure, you lay down hoping to rest, even though it was becoming harder and harder to find deep sleep. Your body no longer responded the way it used to, and the symptoms had started affecting you more brutally. You could barely move your hands without feeling pain, your breathing grew more labored with every effort, but you kept smiling. You had to, not only for Ekko, but for yourself.

Ekko was sitting beside you in the chair he always occupied when taking care of you. His presence was as comforting as it was painful. You knew he was holding onto every fragment of his strength to not show you how devastated he was, but you could feel it in his eyes. He gently stroked your hair and whispered, as though afraid that if he spoke any louder, everything would collapse.

“I promise we’ll get through this. Together, we’ll make it. I won’t let you leave me, not without a fight.”

You looked at him, knowing he was struggling not to cry. But his words, although full of love, only reminded you of the harsh reality. There was no more time for promises, no more room for fighting. The end was near, and you knew it.

“Ekko…” you said, your voice weak. “You don’t have to fight anymore. I’ve loved you so much, you know that, right?”

His eyes filled with tears, but he made an effort to smile. “I know. I know, baby. And I love you more than words can say.”

But what you didn’t know was that, at that very moment, Ekko was also fighting his own pain. While you rested, trying to gather some strength, he was in the workshop, working frantically on the gadget, the project you both had shared. The same gadget that, in his mind, represented everything you had built together. The gadget wasn’t just an object. It was the manifestation of what you two could accomplish when united, when you fought as a team.

Ekko knew the gadget couldn’t save you. He knew nothing could save you. But still, he felt that if he finished that project, a piece of you would remain. A trace of the hope you had brought into his life.

Hours passed, and the night stretched on in heavy silence. Ekko was so focused on his work that he didn’t realize time was slipping away. The light in the workshop flickered as he soldered pieces, making adjustments, checking everything over and over, as if somehow he could turn back time, change the course of history. But he knew he couldn’t.

When he finally gave up on the gadget, exhausted from the intensity of the night and the weight of worry, he went up to the bedroom. He wanted to see you, wanted to make sure you were still breathing, even though he already feared what he might find. He entered the room with the hope that, by some miracle, everything had changed. But what he found was the silhouette of your body lying still. In the absolute silence of the room, Ekko slowly approached, his heart pounding, and when he reached your side, he touched your hand gently. It was cold. Too cold.

The shock paralyzed him for a second. He couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t accept that you were no longer there, by his side, where you had always been. He looked at you, observing your pale face, your peaceful expression, as if you were simply sleeping, but deep down, he knew there was no turning back.

Desperation washed over him. The pain hit him so hard it felt as though his chest would explode. How was it possible? How could something so beautiful, so real, vanish in the blink of an eye?

He knelt by the bed, gripping your hand tightly, as if by doing so, he could bring you back to life. “You can’t go,” he whispered, his voice breaking with the tears he could no longer hold back. “Not now. Not like this.”

But deep in his heart, he knew it was the end. He knew he couldn’t bring back what was already gone. He couldn’t revive the irreparable. And for the first time in his life, Ekko didn’t have a solution, he didn’t have a plan. All that was left was the pain, and that painful acceptance that it was all over.

In the following week, Ekko lived in a limbo. No one saw him, no one knew how to face his pain. Memories of you were everywhere. In the bed where you slept, in the gadget he completed, in the mural you painted together, in the streets where you both walked, always hand in hand. Everything that had once been a dream was now just an echo, a shadow.

Sometimes he’d find himself in front of your photo, the smile you shared on a random afternoon, one that he could no longer remember without the lump in his throat becoming unbearable. The reality hit him harder each time: you were no longer there.

Ekko became a shadow of himself. His mind still searched for you, as though somehow you might return, as though he could find a way to save you. But nothing could change what had happened.

In his darkest moments, Ekko would remember the last words you had said: “I’ve loved you so much.” Those words gave him strength to keep going, to not give up completely. Though the pain was unbearable, he had loved you, and that was something he would never forget.

And with the gadget in his hand, looking at the mural you both painted, Ekko made a promise, a silent promise: he would live to honor what you shared. He wouldn’t let your death be in vain. Your love, your fight, your story would live on in his heart, forever.

The city, as always, continued its course, indifferent to everything Ekko had lost, to everything that had changed in his world. But for him, the day was no longer just a succession of hours; every second was a struggle to find something that gave his pain and love meaning.

Months had passed since you left, but it felt like your absence was so recent, so sharp, that Ekko couldn't stop feeling that his entire being was stuck between life and death. No matter how much time had passed, your image was engraved in his mind, not as a memory, but as a constant presence, a voice whispering in his ear, as if you had never left.

Today, in particular, everything seemed to pull him back to the pieces of his pain. The project you had worked on together, the gadget, was finally ready. After so many sleepless nights, so much effort and sacrifice, the moment to present it had arrived. It had been a creation of love, passion, and farewell. A tribute to you, to what you shared, to what still remained of you in his heart.

Ekko walked with firm steps toward the community event where he would present the gadget. Around him, the people, some curious, others hopeful to see the result of years of teamwork. But he couldn't see them. He couldn't see beyond his own thoughts, the image of you floating in his mind. Sometimes, he thought that everything he had done in the past few months was just a way to avoid facing the truth: that you were gone and that, despite everything, life had to go on.

He entered the venue, a large hall filled with tables covered in technology, art, and brilliant inventions. The gadget was there, on a pedestal, waiting to be presented. Ekko stared at it in silence for a moment, recalling every afternoon spent working on it together. The design was sleek, full of details that reflected his intelligence and your ability to come up with unimaginable solutions. It was more than just a gadget; it was a piece of you, a piece of what they had been together.

The event began, and Ekko, with a calm that only he could have, presented his creation. He explained, with soft but firm words, how the idea had been born, how you had been the spark of inspiration for something that transcended technology and reached the heart. As he spoke, the words intertwined with memories, with your laughter, your jokes, the long nights spent debating the design, the future, and what they wanted to do. Every word felt like a sigh from the past, a sigh that tried to make the present make sense.

But inside him, Ekko knew that everything he was doing was just an echo of what had been. What remained was the emptiness, the absence you had left in his life.

When he finished, he stepped away from the stage, letting the gadget speak for itself. No one in the room understood what that creation really meant. No one knew how much it had cost, not in terms of hours of work, but in terms of love, sacrifice, and farewell. They didn’t understand that every screw, every adjustment, had been made with the hope that, in some way, it would bring you back, even if only for a second.

After the presentation, Ekko moved away from the bustle, walking slowly toward a secluded corner of the city. There, on the wall, was the first mural that he painted of you. The mural was a mural of love, hope, and pain. A mural that reflected every laugh they shared, every glance, every moment they had lived together. In the mural, you were more than just a figure; you were a story told in colors and shapes, in every stroke Ekko had made, in every brushstroke you had guided. The mural wasn’t just art; it was a piece of his soul, his heart, of you.

When Ekko stopped in front of the mural, the wind gently blew, moving some fallen leaves on the ground. His eyes, moist, traced every part of the painting, as if he were searching for something he would never find. He remembered how you had smiled while he was painting you, how you had loved it so much when he showed it to you.

The mural showed a version of you that was etched in his memory. He saw you, with your serene smile and your eyes full of dreams and desires. But what really stood out in the mural was your figure, as if everything else was just a stage for you, for what you meant in his life.

"We did it, baby," Ekko whispered, as if he could hear your voice responding, as if you were still there. "We did it together. Everything we dreamed, everything we wanted... we did it."

His tears began to fall, one by one, flowing like a torrent he could no longer hold back. His heart broke once more, but there was something in the sadness of that moment that gave him a strange sense of peace. Maybe it was because he finally understood that, even though you had gone, the love you shared could not disappear. Love doesn’t vanish with death; it stays, like a shadow that always follows the light. In the mural, in the gadget, in his memories, you would always be a part of him, forever.

Ekko stepped away from the mural, glancing one last time at the figure that now represented everything he had lost. He looked toward the future, toward the horizon, where the lights were beginning to flicker on, and the streets once again filled with people who knew nothing of what he had been through. An uncertain future, but a future he would have to face, because at the end of the day, what really mattered was how he would live after the loss.

With the image of the mural etched in his mind, Ekko moved forward. And in his heart, a promise: he would never forget what you both shared, he would never forget the legacy you left, and he would move forward with the strength of your love, because now he understood that love didn’t die, it transformed, just like art does. Like you did.

[inbarfink]

The ‘Escapades‘ in TGAA1 are already such a top-tier idea. I mean, I really wish we could’ve had those in any of the other games somehow.... Overall they’re an incredibly delightful addition to the game, and taking them individually, the least good ones are still like ‘well, that was a fun little vignette for these characters, I’m just not sure if it 100% gels with the main events of the game’.

And I think my favorite one right now has to be the first one, ���In the Defendant Antechamber’. It just does… so much great stuff to the Asoryuu dynamic, recontextualizes everything that comes after in a way that makes it even better and just feels like such an Essential Viewing for really understanding these two. 

It’s just… you can go through the entire game with Ryunosuke constantly calling Kazuma his ‘best friend’, the ‘person I trusts more than anyone else’ and you might just casually assume that these two go a long way back. Maybe not as much as Kazuma and Susato since Ryunosuke doesn’t have all the details about his childhood, but seeing how much they mean for each other, they must’ve known each other for a while, right?

NOPE

THEY MET IN COLLEGE

ABOUT A YEAR AGO

They’ve known each other for a year, just a pretty ordinary year of school, and they’re already got that Unbreakable Homoerotic Bond of Trust, and Ryunosuke is fully willing to lay down his life for the sake of Kazuma’s dream of going to London. And Kazuma is fully willing to abandon his literal Life Mission of clearing his dead father’s name and avenging him in the shame of failing to defend Ryunosuke. And he drags Ryunosuke with him to London because he knows that he’s the only one who can keep him from straying from his path. And then Ryunosuke decides to dedicate his entire life in the memory of Kazuma. His college buddy. 

But they’re not just college buddies. Because in that one year, they did forge such powerful emotional bonds that all of these actions make sense for them. Because they’re just that kind of Ridiculous Human Beings and I LOVE IT!!

And the story of how they met is just… perfection. Like, if you look at the pre-‘death’ Asoryuu dynamic, it’s very ‘Japan’s most amazing promising young lawyer-samurai is absolutely enamored with an Anxiety-Ridden Human Disaster’. Kazuma Asogi is the Proudest Moronsexual and Ryunosuke Naruhodo is dating way beyond his league.

But also….the thing that drew Kazuma to Ryunosuke in the first place is the fact that he bested him at something. Kazuma is this rising star at Yumei University, he’s got the brains and the brawn, it seems like he is poised for success and glory for the rest of his days - and then this anxious innocuous little goofball beats him… humiliates him even. Ryunosuke beat the star student of Yumei University without any ambition or ill-intention, he was just being himself, he is just this silly little linguistic dork who likes tongue-twisters. 

And Kazuma feels no real resentment or spite about this defeat. He was beaten at his own game by such a silly little guy and all he feels is respect and affection and appreciation. A desire for friendship. Maybe even love. 

And meanwhile, Ryunosuke has just kinda forgotten that this is how they met. I mean, it's not like he totally forgotten it, but... it doesn't seem to register as particularly Notable in his own memories. It's just not that important to him. That was probably a life-changing unforgettable event for Kazuma, but when Ryunosuke thinks about their friendship he just thinks about hanging out after class and eating Yakisoba together. Because that’s just the kinda guy Ryunosuke is, and I think Kazuma appreciates that just as much as his tongue-twister skills.

Also, it kinda connects to an idea I brought up in a previous post, that Kazuma Asogi is less of a direct counterpart to Miles Edgeworth and more of a… mirror image, an inversion.

Phoenix and Miles’ friendship started with Miles saving Phoenix…

A moment which was a world-changing story for Phoenix that literally defined his entire life, but Miles, although he always kept his memories of Phoenix close to his heart, can barely remember it. 

Ryunosuke and Kazuma’s friendship started with Ryunosuke beating Kazuma. A moment that is… certainly not the most important thing in Kazuma’s life, but one that has certainly made his mark on him, and one that he is not going to forget. But Ryunosuke just... doesn't really think about it unless it's directly brought up.

And it’s just… such a good piece of characterization for both of them on every thematic level, I just love it so much!!

[hwnglx]

this one was a little! harsh. again, please remember i'm entering other idols' energy and looking into their pov of hyunjin. this is a very subjective and superficial perspective.

hyunjin's reputation among idols

based on tarot. i do not know these idols personally. energies are always changing. what i say is NOT straight fact. pls take it with a grain of salt!

female idols

song: lost cause by billie eilish

their energy was crazy. i just casually started tearing up and getting weirdly sentimental while writing this, so.. definitely some strong emotion present here? also immediately thought of the song mentioned above. especially the “i used to think you were shy, but maybe you just had nothing on your mind. maybe you were thinking about yourself all the time.” line.

so, hyunjin's reputation among female idols doesn't look great persé. he's viewed as a guy who's likely to have flirted with anyone fitting his idea of attractive. a bit of a ladies' man, who for sure enjoys the ego-stroking that comes with female validation. he's great at these short but emotional flings, meaning in the moment he's great at deceiving and deluding people into him being serious about it. there is this huge perception of him just being kinda.. delusional and unrealistic, living in a dream world of his own and willingly wearing these rose-colored glasses. if hyunjin connects to you romantically, he's amazing at dragging you with him into that world. like dating (? or hooking up? energy is mostly physical with this perception of a shortlived emotional bond) with him can be a bit of a rollercoaster.. with an irresistible high, and the following disappointing low. definitely a certain addictiveness to it. he knows his powers and what he can do to people, how he can use them to his own advantage.

he's very good at appearing a certain way but being another. meaning he puts on this prince charming on a white horse act, but once you look beyond that, or you just get close enough to knowing his actual self, he's much more selfish and greedy for his own good, than you'd expect. many female idols have this view of him as someone who only enters connections in order to gain something for himself, mostly validation. he puts a lot of importance into superficial things, such as fame, popularity, reputation, image, money, power.. they think he struggles finding true emotional fulfilllment, doesn't really know what he sincerely needs and is disconnected to his inner voice. he therefore just goes on hopping from one person to another. pretty bad at committing to relationships. he's great at entertaining the idea of them, but doesn't live up to the idea in reality. he's very in or out, not always available. prone to ghosting people out of nowhere and not recognizing or not wanting to acknowledge the toxicity behind his actions.

he's not very self-aware in their eyes. he hates confronting or acknowledging certain realities and therefore runs away from them. like he just runs away from his problems essentially. doesn't take accountability for his actions. hyunjin is a bit like an immature and irresponsible child to them. he gets afraid to admit to his mistakes because he's scared to get hurt, or make himself appear weak or flawed. some of them think it's pathetic. (they're very harsh in their judgement for sure lol)

there are some female idols though, who view him as mysterious and intriguing, and very desirable too. they think he has a strong presence, and he has this aura to him that awakens your interest, makes you wonder who he truly is. i can sense he's probably someone who does most of the approaching (surprisingly straightforward and direct) but doesn't have many people actually approach him, since he doesn't have very accessible energy. there's a good portion of female idols just staring at him like 🫢😯 and whispering and gossiping. they look at him as this unapproachable guy full of mystery, someone they can't figure out.

male idols

so, male idols look at hyunjin in a lighter manner. opinions do seem to vary though.

he's someone who's also just kinda in and out in their eyes. like at one point, you'll be with him, enjoying his company and seeming like you became pretty close, in the next he'll just be gone and unreachable. he's someone unpredictable and moody to them, like you never really know what phase in life he'll be in. someone very sensitive and easily affected by external influences, who therefore naturally goes through many ups and downs in life. however, they think he doesn't really let people in when it comes to his internal world. he's good at the superficial connections, i can see him being a lot of fun at parties, but many male idols feel like they don't actually know him as well as they think.

however additionally, there is this perception of him being.. overly sensitive. like do not touch hyunjin when he's going through something. some male idols think he's way too easily stressed out about things, makes a big deal out of everything, constantly self-sabotages and creates himself problems when there's none. in their eyes, he's a bit of a pain in the ass in this way. like just unbearable. you won't get him to open up easily, but once he does, he'll probably puke all his concerns out in hours and overwhelm the hell out of the person he's with.

but i have to say, he has an immense amount of respect from his peers in a professional manner. many male idols think he's the stand-out member in stray kids. they think it's impressive how he's been able to pave himself a way and reputation of his own. a lot of approval and acknowledgement of his not only his abilities, but also his efforts career-wise. it's giving this role model among quite a few idols, especially rookies. i can tell there's this tendency for them to be in awe of group members who just stand out and have these main-character vibes among the rest. many of them would like to imitate hyunjin's career trajectory and are eager to reach a similar reputation professionally. he has this image of having fulfilled his dreams with his own efforts, probably because of them turning him into the main dancer of the group, rather than him being “born talented”. the professional applause for hyunjin is something that's for sure spread among the majority of male idols. his career is very commendable and praiseworthy in their eyes.

[wasyago]

YAGO!!!! GAHFRHRHAHARHAHRHRF IM BACK (Design Detail Anon back << i dont know what to call myself LOL) I HAVE MORE WORDS

WHAT ARE YOUR THOUGHTS ON BIOLUMINESCENT TRITONS?!!!?! Obviously Gillion's eyes and coral already glow cause of his funky scrungly squelchy magic BUT what if... he had little glowing freckles... scales? im not fully sure how fish people work.

Your designs for Gillion and Edyn already do an amazing job of separating their underwater biology from humans like Chip and Jay (thinking of the glossy skin, the tails, and the yellow sclera/slitted eyes)- like it's very easy to tell by looking at them that while they are People they are very much FISH People. Which of course sounds pretty obvious but I mention it because a lot of triton art I see usually just looks like a blue person with gills and fins, if that makes sense.

But to expand on my original question- both Gill and Edyn are from the trench, and, in my logic, adjacent at the very least, to other deep sea creatures like anglar fish and some squids. They already have darkvision but the image of them having little hidden patterns when they get super deep in the ocean is... so cute...

im realizing after Ive written all of this that it kinda stopped being a question and started being a ramble so I do apologize :']

(on another note I love your caspian redesign it does a really sweet job of incorporating literal elements of water into his features *smooches him* **respectfully***)

OMG!!!! i love all your thoughts this is so cool thank you for sharing!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (and thank you!! i tried very hard to make caspian look like a water spirit and not an ocean creature and still make him interesting visually...)

you know, now that you've said that the trench is deep under water im realizing that it's something i didn't actually think about. like, i remember hearing Gill say that he's from the trench, but it never actually registered in my brain that trench = deep and dark. everything makes so much sense now oh my god.... finn saying "why did they keep this from us" about the sun, because the sun simply doesn't reach to where they live...

i dont know why i imagined the capital as this bright white sunny coral reef when it should be dark and mysterious and harsh with no sunlight. bruh. it makes so much seeeense. and all the talk about strict rules for safety and foodchain and danger, because they're literally so deep there's a lot of giant spooky creatures.... hold on im having a worldview change.... oh god....

considering all this... YES bioluminescent tritons!!!!!!!!!!!! i imagine they don't glow too much, since while tritons are pretty smart they don't have a lot of natural protection from predators and attracting attention would be suboptimal. but they do have glowing parts for um... reasons. idk, they're magical creatures in a magical world.

i imagine their stripes and eyes and hair and underbellies all emit a glow in low lighting, and in complete darkness only the stripes are visible. and every triton has a unique stripe pattern or color so they're all different like that.

idk how it actually works. like, if they glow in any darkness or only in the darkness under water (although it wouldn't make a difference since they're always wet) or only when they're very deep or if they can choose when to glow or when to not, but its still a very cool detail!!!!!!!!!!! glowy fishy people yayyy

[parisoonic]

I'm in love with how you draw characters (especially when you draw sniperscout and demoman in general), I'm unsure if you've answered a question like this before, but how do you figure out what to do with face shapes? It's hard to explain but the way you over-exaggerate certain features to make their design pop is so cool to me and I've never been able to do it for myself. That, and making faces look like.. well, faces.

thank you so much!!! hopefully i'm understanding you right...

Regarding the face shapes in TF2...we're all standing on the shoulders of the (excellent) design work already done and laid out. The characters have really nice distinct face shapes with some general overlap before you even consider that a lot of them have facial accessories which you can pick and choose from to help push facial silhouettes and peel apart characters that are a little similar.

Naff threshold filter heads to show silhouettes lol In order to exaggerate them - it's mainly about pushing and pulling the existing proportions and ratios of their faces IE: Making Medic's/Soldier's/Heavy's stupid large-chins even longer but sacrificing some of their forehead or eye-region. Varied proportions have a lot of 'rhythm' or 'appeal' and typically the human face can break down into the forehead (+ hair), eyes (I like to do a Batman style mask but people will often use the nose to form a triangle too) and then....everything else (chin, cheek etc).

Soldier, Heavy and Sniper all have REALLY similar proportional ratios but their silhouettes are really different (in both the x and z). When you add in that the 'default' way to view Soldier and Sniper is with their accessories they're all really nice and different. Funnily enough Sniper's 'eye mask' is teeny tiny with his visors off but this relationship changes with his sunglasses on. Kinda interesting... I sometimes like to think of visual vibe-based 'archetypes' when i'm drawing the tf2 guys. I don't have one for everyone yet but Heavy is sort of like 'handsome caveman' to me. Archetypally, cavemen are drawn with thick brows, small low foreheads and big chins. The 'handsome'-ness comes in when you apply a delicate approach to eyes, cheekbones, lips and with careful posing. Having this kind of visual-archetype in mind informs how I view the character as a whole and thus how i depict them! HOPEFULLY even if I drift away from how they actually look because the vibes are right...it feels right you know? There's also a sliding scale to me as to HOW you represent them. If the character is doing something goofy/stupid, drawing them less handsome and toonier can add levity. Obviouslyyyy you can have your handsome depictions making a dick joke (and that's its own sort of visual gag) but you'll notice in a lot of my images the straight-man gets drawn a little more...realistic? on-model? than the butt of the joke. It just feels more appropriate to me haha I'm using 'toonier' here to mean not only am I drawing fewer details but also exaggerating those ratios between areas of the face away from their 'default' ratio. like with most drawing-y things it's practice AND experimentation! i draw these guys differently depending on my mood and how generous i'm feeling towards their looks lol if you wanted tips on the construction of faces I really recommend checking out Griz and Norm's 'Tuesday Tips'. They're incredibly clear, concise and very approachable (and cover a variety of subjects!) Hopefully this link works? but if you search them on Pinterest and grab a cuppa, there's some AMAZING tips to be had here: https://www.pinterest.co.uk/search/pins/?q=griz%20and%20norm&rs=typed

[wishmaster]

This app looks kinda cool, it says to make a wish? What is this some kinda place to vent? Uhh... let's make a simple wish like 'I wish I had a deeper voice' and send. I wonder if the app responds? Well back to scrolling through tumblr I guess.

As I continue my tumblr session, I feel my body begin to get hotter, I fail to notice how my body began to grow bigger, more muscles growing across my body, the testosterone increasing flowing through me not only molding me into a perfect man but also lowering my voice, making it deeper, sexier.

It wasn't until I got a look at this gorgeous black man staring back at me from a nearby mirror that I realized my wish had somehow come true, morphing my entire body and life in the process.

Fuck yeah I said aloud, the deep sexiness of my voice made me instantly hard. My new sexy body made my heart race as new memories flooded my brain, no longer was I the geeky science major but now I was studying to be a lawyer while being a huge basketball player in my spare time. I was fucking gay as hell now to as images of my fine ass boy friend flooded my mind. Fuck, I said the mere sound of my own voice had me creaming my pants. I headed in to change, finding a closet full of skin tight leather that put my new body on full display, then it came to my memory to afford law school I was an exotic dancer as my job, I mean fuck look at me, people would pay good money just to get a look at this.

Fuck, what a great little App, imagine if I'd had been more detailed in my wish? But fuck this is amazing, hey there. I said as hot gus gathered round me at the club, each time I spoke my cock got harder.

[cerezasefimeras]

Pretty (Problematic) Ladies

WC: 1.6k FEM!S62 + KAKUCHO, sfw. ⸺ Headcanons of the s62 as women, mainly general headcanons. CW: fem!izana, kakucho, mochi, muto, ran, rindou & shion. personal opinion, OOC characters (because i see both their canon version and their gb version different, so idc), kinda toxic behaviours in Izana & Ran parts. ALSO, the idols used are just to bring a clear image of how i see them, please don't make weird comments about the idols. Please tell me if I forgot something! English is not my first language pd: this is mainly general and safe headcanons, i obviously have more unhinge and nsfw hcs about them. I may post them on another occasion.

FEM!YASUHIRO MUTO.

— Hi, fem!muto is such an ethereal women. — Her name is Yoshino — She either would have pixie short hair or long straight hair, equally as beautiful with both of them. — Tall woman, like 175-7cm — She is that quiet and mysterious woman that is just so intriguing you need to know more of her. — Im sorry but chubby fem!muto is my whole reason of being, idgaf if he is canonically strong, this woman is chubby and so huggable. — I picture her wearing really yet feminine clothing, summer dresses are her favourite. — I imagine her also doing a lot of pen drawings when she is bored or has nothing else to do. — Makes AMAZING baked goods/bakery foods (idk the actual word) — Her fav season is autumn cause she loves the colours of the season. — Prefers tea over coffee although she knows how to make so many types of coffees. — She's a cutie as a girlfriend, would pamper you with cooking your favourite meals and with a lot of cuddles. — As a friend she that typical mom friend, always has the best advice, her purse is full of anything you may need. — Loves doing crocheting, she has made matching hoddies for the girls. — I fucking love her. — She speaks french. That's it. Its hot. — Her song is: Real Man - Beabadoobee — Similar idols: Miyeon (IDLE) & Jihyo (Twice)

FEM!RAN HAITANI

— Oh my sweet heaves. — THIS WOMAAAAAAAAN. — Listen, she dresses like old elegant woman, like those models that are dressed into elegant femenine styles THERE WAS A POST ABOUT IT, I LOST IT BUT I AGREE. (I may do a second part with pictures cause i want you guys to see my ideas clearly but yeah) — Im sorry but mean lesbian fem!ran is my religion. This woman is mean as fuck, spoiled and bitchy. (My type fr) — 175-7cm, she is hot, she's tall and she is LESBIAAAAAN. — Really sugar mommy vibes, she would spoil you rotten if you're really dear to her. — HER NAME IS RALEIGH, RALEIGH HAITANI. — Honestly, science girly. Really good at biology and physics. — Hyper feminine features and body. — Changes her nails set every 3-4 weeks. — Casually smokes, not an addict or anything but sometimes you can see her with red malboro in between her fingers. — Can be really condescending, not in purpose but she is the oldest sister that was made a mother to her little sister. — In bonten she has a short bob/bixie cut. — Wears a lot of delicate *gold* jewellery. — Her only relationship advice is break up. — In any other area, she is the best to ask for advice. — She loves do to her make-up. — Had a tarantula has a pet when she was younger... her sister fucking hate it when that thing was free to wonder around the mansion. — Really into fashion and modelling, that's her whole life. — Her song is: Carmen - Lana Del Rey. — Similar idols: Jinsoul (ex-LOONA, now ARTMS) & Doyeon (former WEKI MEKI)

FEM!IZANA KUROKAWA

— She is mean as fuck. She simply is just mean but to degrate and to be affectionate. — Dont get me wrong, she does care but she that doesnt take away to the fact she is mean. — Her name is Ivette! — Really basic yet cute style, a part of me thinks she would dress like an old japanese horror game protagonist the other believes she would not care that much about her fashion. — I full believe she is a big advocate for suicide awareness and bpd awareness. — ♡ Curly hair ♡, she loves to take care of her curls although sometimes she just wants to rip her hair off. — I kinda see her as a practice witch, like casually nothing too serious. — If you're dating her, a date to the aquarium would meant the world for her. — Baby face, hates it, but gosh she is adorable. — Cutie, she is between 1.49-151cm... yeah she also hates that. She will fight you if you make fun of her. — Honestly, sound cloud singer... her songs are like beabadoobee, laufey & mon laferte. She wishes to do a concert at least once. (She uses beats created by fem!rindou, yes sir.) — She has been cancelled on twt more time she can think of. — She has thrown a chair a someone before. — That someone may or may not have been mikey. — She WILL do it again. — Loves going to new places such as coffee shops. — Her song is: Hijo de la luna - Mecano. — Similar idols: Winter (aespa) & Eunha (former gfriend, now viviz)

FEM!MOCHIZUKI KANJI

— We love a good sporty masculine woman. — She def did volleyball at school. — Her name is Kaori! — I think she is like Kiyoko of highschool, full focused on sports and has no attention span to anything else. — About 1.72-4cm. — Streetwear !!!!, baggy jeans, jorts, dragon design. Yes. Yes. Yes. All for her. — She looks so intimidating but in reality she is a softie. — She can eat A LOT, is mostly due to the big amount of sports she does. Baby girl needs to be healthy. — Cannot wear jewellery to save her life, it always ends up broken or lost (same girl, same) — She still sleeps cuddling with a big bear plushie she got at the age of 12. — Makes the best barbecues, invite her to the family cockout right now. — Cannot explain this, but she is color blind. — Type of friend she woukd go to WARRR for u. Someone is making fun of you? This girl is about to break their face ♡ — Gives the best hugs. — Really good at swimming, loves summer sports although she is practice more often field sports. — The biggest fan of Megan Thee Stallion, argue with the wall if u disagree. — LOVES romcoms, the more cringy they're the best honestly. — Always has snacks on her bag. — Loves buzzing her hair out, its an actual addiction of her. — Her song is: Dopamine - Giselle. — Similar idols: Cocona (XG) & Giselle (Aespa)

FEM!SHION MADARAME

— Iconic weird girl, we love her. — So death note misa coded. — She is that alt, unique girl that was into evertyhing that was considered nerdy back then. — Her hair has oil spilt, racoon tail and crazy strokes. (Blonde hair, with orange strokes + chocolate brown racoon tail.) — Trashy slutty style & scene style. She knows what's good. — Average height, like 161-3cm. — Shiori!, Shiori Madarame... unless Madarame is her name then Shion Maemi. — Every year her spotify wrapper has bad doy nightcore version as n1 song. — Rave girly, (fem!rin usually goes with her) — She is so awkward and so adorable, guys i love my daughter. — She had a gacha life phase... — Fem!shion gives me bimbo vibes, seriously i fricking love her so much i cannot explain it. — If a creepy guy bothers you she WILL bark, like full on dog barking. Surprisingly good at it aswell. — She has a lot of tattoos, all made in a spontaneous urge. — Full no contact with her whole family. — The girls are her family. — She has either a chicken or a racoon as a pet, i also cannot explain this. — Her song is: boycott ver pleaseee favOriTe - LOONA (and because i cannot put that version here, extra song Yummy - Ayesha Erotica) — Similar idols: Hinata & Jurin (XG)

FEM!RINDOU HAITANI

— Oh my god, my wife guys, buckle up. — Renleigh Haitani, my woman. — Spoiled as fuck, baby of the family she blinks and gets what she wants. — Has a really specific type of man to date, will date any women if the lady breaths and is into her. — 162-165cm, yes, fem!ran loves to call her baby, small or tiny. — Really good dancer!, loves learning new dancing styles and learning the story behind them. (Mostly if they're cultural dances) — Nerd. Plays lots of video games, has lots of figurines of her favourite characters, addicted to gacha games. — Really good fashion style. She goes between mcloving, street wear & and a style similar to what Nana of nana... the black nana would wear, idk the name. — Wavy blonde natural hair. Currently she has it inspired in laguna blue of monster high. — She has a lot of glasses in different shapes & colours to match her outfits. — Yes, her nails set match her sister's nails set. — Also wears a lot of jewellery, does not have colours preference she just likes it chunky. — Has three cats. Rindou would be a dog person tho. — Really sporty, does a lot of sports and has such pretty figure thanks to it. — Has the wildest music taste, the song is good? Is her new addiction for the next month (same) — Her 'hear me out' is 9x9=81... i will not elaborate iykyk. — Crunchy grapes lover. — Her song is: Hot Mess - aespa — Similar Idols: Minnie (IDLE) & NingNing (aespa)

FEM!KAKUCHO

— Hi, her name would be Kiyoko. — This baby. Gosh, she is adorable. — She is around 172-5cm, she wishes she was shorter — She says a stray cat she ignores everything else to pet that adorable animal. — 'Loser trapped in a hot body' definition. — Baby, she is a softie with really chaotic friends. — Also has a baby face, dont let that foul you she WILL beat the shit out of you if you ask for it. — Her style changes often, she actually copies what her big sisters wear!, she is so inspired by them so it changes constantly. (Baby sister attitudes... me tbh) — Continuing with her lil sis behaviours, many of her hobbies also comes from the girls! Crocheting (fem!muto), exploring new places (fem!izana), fashion and modelling (fem!ran), video games (fem!rin), field sports (fem!mochi), going to raves (fem!shion). — She loves making bracelets for the girls!, its her way to show love for them. — Really soft with animals and children. — Loves apples, exactly red apples. My lord she could eat them for days straight. — Really good student, she lives for academic validation. — She was a selective mute for at least a year, she would only communicate with fem!izana. — Its SCARED to dye her hair for some reason, she believes she will end up bald as if she hasn't buzz her hair off for no reason before. — She may be quiet but she is not afraid of setting boundaries ans speaking up for herself and others. — She has a lot of plushies, all gifted by the girls. — Amazing friend, amazing girlfriend, amazing wife. — Loves snoopy! — Her song is: Right Now - NewJeans — Similar idols: Sullyoon (nmixx) & Tzuyu (twice)

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤcreds to: @cerezasefimeras

[katerinaaqu]

Continuing from Part 1;

Guilt (P2)

"And no, that was what you feared...not what you knew. There was no way you would know the magnitude of it...you gave them the city just like you promised. What theh did with it was their responsibility"

If only it were that simple, Odysseus thought

Odysseus could feel his head buzzing all the time. He was feeling tired of killing that night. As he had promised they had plundered Troy in just one fateful night. Odysseus had lost counting at how many lives had fallen under his sword. The palace of Troy had fallen. Troy was burning. As he cut his way through with with sword he remembered bodies falling down; armed or not; soldiers who barely had time to rouse themselves from sleep to come to save their city and yet they rushed at him bravely. Odysseus couldn't decide if he admired them or felt sorry for them.

"Odysseus!" The voice of a soldier brought him back to the present

"What is it?"

"Priam is dead!"

"Dead?!"

That piece of information he feared but he hoped he could prevent.

"Where?"

The man bringing the news was way too nervous for comfort.

"Where!" Odysseus demanded again

"T-To the altar of Zeus...he was slain upon the altar!"

Odysseus nearly dropped his sword! Had they stooped so low, then, in anger and hate?

"Who!" Odysseus demanded, "who did such a blasphemous act?!"

"N-Neoptolemous..."

Odysseus could hardly remember rushing to the scene. Perhaps he remembered the hall drenched in blood and there he saw the dead body of the king; neck gushed open and blood all over the floor. The haunting image of the expression of horror to the old man's face as well as the stain of blood upon the altar were a blurry mess in his brain. All he knew was that he saw that child he had brought to this war, with his face smeared with blood, having a self-complacent smirk on his face. He almost seemed possessed. That damn armor seemed to be one with his skin.

"HAVE YOU LOST YOUR GODDAMN MIND?!" Odysseus bellowed, "How could you do that?! Have you so little respect for the laws of humans that you've stooped to the level of beasts?!"

The way that Neoptolemus looked at him was pure mockery and arrogance gained from victory.

"Now come on, Sacker of Cities...don't pretend that you would have left that man live! He was the king of Troy...just his existence would be a threat. You would have him executed anyways".

Odysseus couldn't remember grabbing the boy by the throat but he was beyond himself. His eyes were two bottomless pools of blackness.

"Do you want to end up like Thersites?!" He threatened in a dangerous whisper, "Do not challenge me, boy!"

"Or what?" Neoptolemus challenged back, "Will you do to me what you did to Palamedes?"

Odysseus was so shocked he could hardly speak. He felt like he had been punched in the stomach. The shock was enough to make him release the threat of the youth and take a few steps back.

"I have no idea what you're talking about" he said

Neoptolemus laughed.

"You are a liar, Odysseus! But then again you always were, weren't you?"

"Palamedes drowned in the sea! It was an accident!"

For a moment the image of ruffling waters had passed through his mind. Palamedes struggling under the surface... Odysseus remembered being frozen. He never tried to jump after him even jf he were an excellent swimmer. He was cold and motionless like a statue. The voice of the arrogant son of Achilles brought him back to reality.

"Yeah, how convenient indeed that he had that small... 'accident' when you and Diomedes were at the same boat with him during that fishing expedition! How convenient indeed!"

"This isn't about me!" Odysseus snapped at him, "This has to do with the hubris you performed here! We do NOT kill those who seek the sanctuary of the gods!"

"Times have changed, old man! You said so yourself! Besides wasn't you the one who implied that the line of the royal family of Troy should be cut? Priam shouldn't live anyways!"

Yes, Odysseus thought,he had said that and by that time he believed jt, however the old man had sought sanctuary. If they waited for him to get exhausted maybe... He could have surrendered. Murder upon sacred place was definitely NOT the way to do it. They could have offered him a nobler death than that! Odysseus didn't have time to reply. He heard a baby cry. He turned around to see in horror a man bringing baby Astyanax and handing him to Neoptolemus. The infant, barely one year of age, was crying woefully as he was handled not at all gently by Neoptolemus, who seemed untouched by the cries. Id anything he seemed to enjoy it

"What about the heir of Troy, Odysseus? What shall happen to him?"

"You can't be serious! It's just a baby!"

"A baby that is almost at the age of walking! Soon at the age of fighting. Will you let him live, Odysseus? You were the one who convinced the council, remember? You said we should all uproot the family of Priam from this earth!".

Yes, once again Odysseus had said that,however he had absolutely forgotten in the heat od the moment how old the heir actually was. The child was barely one. He could hardly speak yet alone walknand fight. Only now had he realized in horror what that promise he partially made would mean. He didn't expect to be brought before the consequences so fast!

"Weren't you the one who persuaded all the Greeks to uproot Priam's long family out of Troy?"

"Yes, but-..."

"So you take your word back? Decide!"

"Decide what?!"

"How he shall die, of course! You can't expect us to raise the son of king Hector, do you? Which will be? Sword or fall?"

The baby...the infant; no older than 1 year of age, was not much older than Telemachus... it was an innocent creature! He watched in terror as Neoptolemus held the baby to the edge of the wall.

"Choose, Odysseus!" Neoptolemus challenged, " or are you taking your words back?"

"This is madness!"

"You said to the council the other night that you would throw all of Priam's line outside these walls!" Neoptolemus insisted, "I believe the phrase you strategically used was 'we can throw them all out of the city of Troy!" I believe everyone agreed with such a sensible idea"

"Odysseus?"

It was the voice of Talthybius. Of course it would be that sleek worm! Odysseus cursed under his teeth. He was supposed to be their messenger and yet he found hik way too compassionate on the Trojan matter. Perhaps he should have gotten rid of him off his position a long time ago!

"Did you really tell the kings to kill this infant? Drag him out of his mother's bosom when she sought sanctuary in her husband's tomb and kill him in such a manner?"

Odysseus pointed his blood-stained sword at the scared messenger.

"Shut your mouth or I'll shut it for you!" He threatened, eyes set aflame

He didn't need any more of those throwing accusations at him and he had enough of this for one night! One madman before him was enough; he didn't need a Troy-friendly coward as wellm

"Stay back! This is none of your concern!"

As Talthybius took some steps back, alarmed at this sudden attack from the furious king of Ithaca, Neoptolemus seemed to enjoy this scene more than the idea of throwing the baby off the walls or stabbing him to death.

"Decide, old man!" He urged again, "Do you take your word back? Every person in that hall heard you and agreed with you! Shown in this pilgrim of the night that you have SOME sense of honor!"

Odysseus was frozen in place. His own words that he didn't mean that way were now twisted in such a horrendous manner before him and bound him like chains. He could not take that word back. His brain was also stuck and his usual eloquent tongue could not find an excuse not to do it now...

"So be it..." he said defeated, "But let us choose a more humane method! Not this, Neoptolemus! Not this!"

He needed to buy himself some time. He needed to think of any reason, ANY excuse to keep this baby alive. Neoptolemus, though, being a true son of his father's, wouldn't let him do that either.

"Not on your life, son of Laërtes! This is the child of the man who thought he could kill my father! His bloody uncle actually succeeded! His filthy kin DARED to harm a man whose mother was a goddess! He needs to die and he shall now!"

At that moment he dragged the toddler almost effortlessly with one hand; strength given only by wrath and hatred, he let him hanging on the wall. The child was crying woefully and then Odysseus thought he heard him speak;

"PAPA!"

He froze. In some terrible realization he figured the horrendous truth. Neoptolemousbhad inherited the golden locks of his father's and his light yes that included the sea and sky. He, Odysseus, was dark of hair, black of eyes, lightly olive tanned white skin...he was similar to HIM...to Hector of Troy. The infant was calling HIM to save him! Panic took over him and he forgot all logic, all his attempts to find excuses. Now the child...the baby...someone's SON (Telemachus!)needed HIS assistance.

"Neoptolemus no! It's just a baby! Let the poor creature go!"

"Very poor choice of words, Odysseus!"

And Neoptolemus did exactly what he was told...he let go! The baby fell out of the palace walls, leaving gravity take the body rapidly down.

"NOOOOOOO!" Odysseus yelled helplessly but that's all he could do.

He ran at the edge only to see a tiny bloody dot at the bass kd the wall. The haunting cries had stopped...forever.

"NEOPTOLEMUS!" Odysseus bellowed furiously, "you killed him! You killed an infant!"

"No, Odysseus!" Neoptolemus replied, "You did. Your plan, your advise, your sin."

Odysseus felt dizzy...his stomach twisted dangerously but he did herculean effort to hold himself back. There was so much he wanted to say...so much he wanted to scream but he found it impossible to utter a single sound.

"TROY HAS FALLEN!" the happy cry from the inside of the castle drew them out of this, "WAR IS OVER! HOORAY! HOORAY FOR THE SACKER OF CITIES!"

Odysseus felt like losing strength off his legs. He didn't even know how to feel. However he knew one thing. He was feeling ENRAGED. It was as if the name that was given to him by his grandfather now suddenly made sense! He glared daggers yo Neoptolemus but the arrogant boy only smiled self-complacently...

"Looks like you were right, old man... You DID take the city in one night..."

Odysseus looked beyond the walls. If was true. The sun was rising...although his light was now duller in his eyes; the fires were stronger...

*

The walls of Troy had fallen and the real damage was apparent the next morning following the massacre. The houses had burnt almost to the ground and only the strongest walls were still standing upright; sad reminder of their previous glory. Odysseus was standing there with some of his men, watching the march of wounded or future slaves coming out of the city in chains or ropes. The ways were known. They would be distributed to some of the kings among them and the rest would be given by luck to the rest of the people. After that thy should gather and burn the dead before they would be good to go... Odysseus looked aged almost ten years more. He had dark circles under his eyes and he still didn't have time to wash himself from the blood. The thick liquid had formed a crust upon him by that moment. Helen was secured and brought out of the city to safety by Menelaus. So everything seemed to be in place. Then, why would he feel as if he had to use all his will to endure it and keep a stone calm face? His attention was drawn to the part of the procession. It was Andromache, the queen and widow of Hector. Odysseus grimaced. He had hoped he wouldn't face that woman. She was walking upright with the dignity even the greatest of Queens would be jealous of, as if she were the mighty Hera. Even if she was in chains she was still holding her head high. Odysseus learnt that she was to be given to Neoptolemous. He watched the queen marching to be given to the man that murdered her son... The man they now called Sacker of Cities didn't know which was sadder for her. He had tried to persuade Neoptolemous to take another but all his pleas or even manipulation fell on deaf ears. In the end he wondered if it mattered... At that moment his onyx eyes locked with the eyes of the queen. And then he saw her face transform from purr dignity to pure hatred in a matter of seconds!

"ODYSSEUS!" she yelled at him, pulling the chains with all her strength, "YOU SPAWN OF THIEVES AND RAGGED SCHEMER! THIS IS ALL YOUR DOING! GODS SHALL THROW THEIR RAGE UPON YOU!"

Odysseus didn't have time to defend himself.

"It was all your idea! Your plan! You scheming bastard could not fight with honor! But how could you! HOW COULD YOU!"

Her rage gave her strength anew as she managed to crawl closer. Even Odysseus took half a step back.

"HE WAS JUST ONE YEAR OLD ODYSSEUS!DO YOU HAVE NO HEART?!"

The king of Ithaca froze. He had no idea how she had found out about it but then it hit him. Talthybius! Of course! He must have talked to her.

"HE WAS JUST A BABY! HOW COULD YOU!"

"I didn't..." he whispered more to himself than anything else

"CURSE UPON YOU!" she drew her chains again and even the soldier needed to pull back, "I knew they wouldn't let him live! But this?! THIS?! HE WAS JUST ONE YEAR OLD ODYSSEUS! Just one year-..."

And then there was a heart-wrenching cry. Suddenly her anger turned into outpost pain. Odysseus turned his head and realized the reason. The small wrapped up ball could be nothing else but the remains of her son. One of the Greeks was transferring them to the pyre for the funeral. Odysseus cursed everything he believed in. He had hoped they would be spared at least of that! Both her and him. Andromache fell on her knees trying to release herself and get closer to the wrapped up package.

"MY BOY!" she cried, "AH! MY BOY!"

The soldier was ready to take the package away but Odysseus stopped him.

"No! Let her mourn!"

Unwillingly the man placed the child on the ground as she crawled over it, hands still tied up, not allowing her to wrap her arms around the remains of her son or even scratch her cheeks to mourn... Odysseus watched her kneel almost like an animal mourning her calf, leaning her forehead against the bloodied cloth

"MY BEAUTIFUL BOY!" Andromache's voice rose in an inhuman tone of cries and woe

The king of Ithaca felt his heart pinch. Yes, he has heard that cry before. It was an eternity ago in Ithaca...when Palamedes had come to pick him up...

*

Odysseus was plowing the field, singing an incoherent song. He was moving his head to an unmatched rhythm. He had tied one donkey and one cow to the plow, plowing in a totally messy way. He seemed to pay no mind. Odysseus was very keen upon his disguise as a madman. Palamedes was watching the scene with Penelope from afar as his beloved queen was playing with their son in her arms.

"He has been doing that all day..." Penelope said in her melodious voice, "He listens to no one when they tell him that this is not right. My husband insists that this is the best way to plow the field."

Penelope knew her part very well. They had agreed upon it after all. Part of it was her idea too. She didn't want him to go to war and he didn't want either. Not now that they had their son to take care of. Palamedes looked suspiciously at the scene.

"I find it hard to believe the mighty Odysseus losing his mind like this...it is so fast and so sad to be true..."

He approached closer.

"Come on, Odysseus, son of Laërtes! We have work to do, we have to get ready for the war!"

Odysseus didn't reply and continued his work. Penelope approached.

"My lord, as you see, my husband is a very sick man. He cannot help you in this war. I am afraid you must find someone else..."

Palamedes looked at her sideways before turning his gaze back at Odysseus.

"Such a shame though..." he whispered as if to himself, "Such a brilliant mind...be condemned in such a way... Seems such a waste..."

He eyed Penelope and something inside her heart flattered. She didn't like that look.

"But perhaps..." Palamedes started, "I might have a cure for his...illness..."

Penelope raised a brow.

"My lord?"

No sooner had she voiced that word and Palamedes yanked Telemachus out of her arms.

"NO!" Penelope cried out surprised, "What are you doing?! Stop!"

Telemachus screeched and cried as Palamedes ran towards the field.

"NO! MY BOY!" Penelope cried out

Odysseus barely had time to see with the corner of his eye Palamedes throw his infant son to the front of the two giant animals plowing! His mind did not think twice.

"WOOO BOY! WOO! WOO!" his mighty hands pulled the reigns stopping the plow barely a few inches away from the crying baby

Rushing to the spot he picked up his precious son to his hands, he raised him to his head, he inspected those little limbs and that soft head... He sighed in relief when he found no major injuries to that little body.

"Shh..sh sh...my boy..." he cooed at his son, "It's okay...it's okay..."

His gaze was fiery as he looked up to Palamedes.

"ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR DAMNED MIND?!" he bellowed, "You nearly killed my son!"

Palamedes seemed uninterested at that coy as he smirked.

"Welcome back to the world of sanity, Odysseus. So now I believe we can talk about the preparations of the war, according to the oath you gave. Let us cut this charade and be men..."

Ashamed, humbled but above all ENRAGED, Odysseus looked up from his kneeling position, still cooing his son, trying to calm him.

"That was a low blow, even for you!" He growled at him

"You are the one to talk, son of Laërtes!" Palamedes retorted, "you are the one who always schemes to avoid his responsibilities!"

"Yes but I don't use innocent infants for it! I shall not forget this Palamedes!"

"I seriously hope you won't" Palamedes retorted, "So that we won't add 'oathbreaker' to your list of titles!"

*

Oh how enraged he had been! And yet now he remembered that moment for a totally different reason! Now he was seeing that woman who used to be a mighty queen screaming and crying over that small ball that used to be her son. She was doubling over and over, crying.

"MY BOY! NO NO NO! NO! MY SON!"

At some point she managed to grasp the cloth

"No! Don't-...!"

The cloth revealed a ball of flesh that the face and the little bones were no more recognizable. Odysseus shut his eyes closed for one secondm

"Telemachus!" He thought, "No! Not him...that's not him..."

Andromache screeched in woe as she doubled over at that small ball of flesh that used to play around a few days ago, hitting her chest with the last bits of her hands, pulling on her chains maniacally. Odysseus could take no more. He went close to her. She was a queen, she had to pull it together.

"Get up..." he whispered huskily, "please get up...for your son..."

Andromache shot her head up and spat straight on his face. The saliva from her mouth burnt his cheek like fire; like the fire that now existed in her eyes. Her woe had stopped, apart from those tears that turned her eyes red. Hatred returned...and it was all directed to him... The Man of Many Ways felt his heart turn into marble; hard and cold. He stood up to his full height wiping his cheek with his hand. He felt the dirt and blood smearing in combination with the spit. All of Troy's massacre had fallen upon him...

"Take her out of here!" He ordered in a low, cold voice

If I show weakness...I'm lost...

Andromache struggled only for one minute and that would be so that she wouldn't be separated from her son (the son that now a soldier was picking up again, sparing everyone from the unpleasant task seeing the child). She then followed her captures. She was a queen again. The only thing you could hear was some low cry.

"Odysseus..." Meriones approached him, "Are you alright?"

Odysseus winced in pain. He hadn't realized that he had clenched his fist so hard that it hurt him. He unclenched it.

"Yes..." he whispered, "Yes, I'm fine"

*

Sooo Part 2! Soon the closure will come! Dedication to some hood friends such as @aaronofithaca05 @simugeuge @prompted-wordsmith @loco-bird @jarondont

[pineappleciders]

RW Omori squad (separate) with a s/o who has verbally abusive parents. Just like “oh it’s fine, it’s how we talk :)” and it’s clearly not, and the character can see that. (and the reader knows too but they don’t like to say that because that’d make everybody sad!)

RW OMORI gang with an S/O who has verbally abusive parents

includes: SUNNY, AUBREY, KEL, HERO, MARI, BASIL

TRIGGER WARNING: verbal abuse, physical abuse (mentioned), parental issues, arguing

reader is referred to with they/them pronouns

☆ ☆ ☆

SUNNY

sunny grew up in an asian household, and not to mention his parents favorited his sister. so he's faced his fair share of hurtful comments or impossible standards

although, he hasn't really gotten it to the extent you have, and he's a little. concerned.

like when he first hung out at your place and he heard your mother call you names and berate you,, he got really nervous and awkward

he really doesn't like arguing, and for many other reasons you two sort of decided it would be best to not chill at your place

but it doesn't mean he ignores it!!! he thinks about your parents all the time, and is kind of scared to pry but he asks about it for your safety

you two spend a lot of time at his house!!!! he prefers to not go outside and seeing as your parents erm. aren't the greatest, his house is usually empty and so it's perfect for hanging out!!!!

he never pries to the point of making you uncomfortable, but he is very worried. he'll constantly try to be there for you and lend an ear, as he knows your parents aren't the best listeners.

if you text him that your parents are being loud or yelling at you, he'll send you songs he likes for you to listen to to distract you and texts u constantly to keep you company

AUBREY

it. really pisses her off.

she had incredibly neglectful parents, and her mother would even get physical when drunk

so she knows what abuse is like. that's why although it angers her whenever she hears your parents degrade you, she never talks back to them or anything. she knows that would only end up worse for the both of you

although, she does express it a lot when you two are alone.

"dude, your parents are dicks, Y/N."

she's fully aware you're only playing it off for everyone's sake, but she never really talks about it. she knows how much it sucks for someone to call out a facade cough cough

she'll get you little trinkets or send you images of things that you like or that remind her of you throughout the day to hopefully cheer you up

her house isn't really available for hanging out either, so you guys often go to the lake or get pizza at GINO's, or just chill with the hooligans at the park

she never judges you for it, and tries to subtly let u know that she's there to listen whenever you need it. she wants to offer support that you otherwise don't really have

KEL

when your parents start saying shit at dinner, he looks kinda awkward and tries to change the subject. like if they started comparing you to him he'd be like "oh, haha i actually look up to Y/N! you raised an amazing kid :)"

he might dislike your parents, but he's always respectful of parents in general. he was always taught to respect his elders!!!

and then when you two leave the house he looks at you like a dejected kicked puppy

"man.. your parents are really something, huh?"

kel had only really been insulted by his parents during arguments or whenever he did something wrong, whereas he'd get spanked with a shoe and berated. they didn't verbally degrade him often, but they emotionally neglected him a lot.

he feels real bad for you, but he tries not to bring it up often. he knows it's a sensitive subject, he can tell by how you constantly say it's normal and it's just how they are

kel wants to wait until you're ready to talk about it. he doesn't push it, he wants you to come to him whenever you're comfortable!!

lots of walks and playing sports to get out of the house. he is constantly treating you to pizza at GINO's, and his family loves you to death!!!!! hero sees you as a little sibling and is always teasing kel about you

HERO

he tries his best to be respectful around your parents. he honestly wants to punch their faces in but he will not admit that

it concerns him when you lie and say it's nothing, but he doesn't push it often. sometimes he'll let you know you can be honest with him and that he's there to listen

with most parents, hero automatically wins them over and always tries to be polite and kind. but he doesn't really bother to get your mother roses or strike up conversation with your dad. he just can't really be comfortable around them

hero's family is very welcoming, so he'll always invite you over for dinner and his mother is asking constant questions!!! kel bugs you and jokingly asks why on earth you'd date someone like hero

(this earned him a smack on the head from both his mother and hero)

gets you gifts and flowers often, and leaves encouraging notes and compliments. he really doesn't want you to feel bad about yourself,, he knows it must be hard having parents like that

has a bit of a hard time finding words if you break down or cry, so he holds you in his arms and rubs your back.

"hey, hey, sshh.. i know... it's alright.."

MARI

similar to hero, your parents make it hard for her to control her anger. they're just so!!!!!&!!$&$ she has a general level of respect and awareness though, so she never really says anything

if she's at your place, she tries to be quiet but eventually can't take it and stands up for you.

"you should be a little easier on them. they've been doing quite well in school lately." she says, crossing her arms.

unfortunately this led to her getting kicked out, but she didn't really regret it

if you're ever feeling down about your grades or yourself in general, she's immediately showering you with compliments and encouragement. mari can't stand seeing you doubt how much you mean to her

i think mari has had a complicated relationship with her father, so she isn't a stranger to arguments and general mean comments and berating. part of why she's such a perfectionist is because her father pushed her,, so she's a bit of a hypocrite when saying you shouldn't let your parents dictate what you do

she's very supportive of wherever you want to go in life, always helping you practice and follow your dreams no matter what!!

always taking you out for picnics and dates!!! you spend a lot of time with the group to get away from things for awhile

she plays the piano for you to help you relax, and sometimes you fall asleep on her shoulder as she plays a calming song. she cherishes those moments the most.

BASIL

he hates it, especially when your parents come into the room and start yelling at you. he can't stand it at all

it makes him angry, but he's far too scared and shy to say anything, so he opts for excusing the two of you and taking you outside to check up on you

he can only imagine how hard it is for you to deal with that, so he's always checking on you to see how you're holding up mentally

he isn't great with words, so you two often spend lots of time together!!! at the park, at his house, at the beach, anywhere is fine with him as long as it's with you

polly loves you dearly!!! she's always embarrassing basil in front of you

he's scared that you're insecure about yourself due to your parents' words, so he leaves little sticky notes and drawings around to encourage you in everything you do

"hi Y/N! i hope you have a great day!!!!! here's a sunset picture, it reminded me of you :) -basil" and there's a photo attached of a pretty sunset

you cook the simplest meal?? he's praising it like it's gourmet

he gets you into gardening and photography, always sending you pictures that remind him of you!!!! they're good coping mechanisms for him and make him happy, so he wants to share that happiness with you

[definitelynotafurinasimp]

"Difficult to please"

"Focalors with a reader that can switch bodies"

Characters: Focalors x gn!reader

warnings: none

a/n: The obvious things right away: I've never written for Focalors before nor do we have much information about her yet, so I wrote her mostly from my gut feeling after seeing her in the Fountaine trailer.

Anyway, I love Furina as you might have guessed by me changing my theme for her. She's such a little gremlin and her design is so beautiful. I can't wait to see her and how she changes (well, hopefully somewhat to the better at least) in the story.

I’m going to use “Focalors” and “Furina” interchangeably, since I’m 99.99% sure they’re the same person, but hey, if Hoyoverse somehow pulls a huge twist on us and I get it wrong it would also be kinda funny.

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Focalors

To say that you were nothing more than a glorified babysitter for Fountaine’s Archon would have been a massive understatement. Once a young law student aspiring to one day become a judge, it didn’t take you long in your position as lawyer to attract the attention of your archon. Not in the “have a vision and beat up the bad guys” kind of way, however. Instead the weird clients you represented never failed to deliver her a somewhat entertaining spectacle, causing the Chief Justice to “volunteer” you as the Archon’s advisor… a role that, while sounding nice, de facto only had the responsibility of keeping her entertained enough to not sully any more court hearings than necessary with her cries of boredom.

When you found out about your powers to switch bodies, you knew better than to tell anyone other than your closest companions… especially Furina. While she got away with her attitude in her own body, you didn’t even want to fathom how many friends she’d be able to alienate or from how many shops she’d get you banned from if she did the same while running around in yours.

However, all of your hard work of keeping it a secret eventually turned out to be futile, as the Archon would eventually figure it out one way or another. After all, the reason she got so little done was not for a lack of ability, she simply didn’t care about most cases and delegated them to whatever judge crossed her path first, but when you began acting a bit stiff around her, the challenge of figuring the reason out was more than enough to keep her on your case.

If it weren’t for the fact that a small voice in your head worried about where to start a new life after having your entire image destroyed by the one currently occupying your body, you would have found the day in your Archon’s body amazing, you got to attend as many court cases as you wanted without anyone batting as much as an eye, got to have your first experiences as a judge and even didn’t have to pay for any of the most delicious food and drinks Fountaine got to offer. The stares you received from the other officials, probably wondering what could have happened for their notoriously difficult Archon to have such a good day, were a bit much at some times, but it was not like you were complaining.

“I want to change back!”, Focalors demanded the moment she stepped into her office, swinging the door behind her shut with as much force as she could muster and not even wincing in the slightest at how loud it was. Beelining towards the couch as she let herself fall onto it, letting out a groan of annoyance loud enough to make any bird sleeping outside fall out of its nest.

“Can’t handle being asked out all the time?”, you tried to crack a joke, knowing all too well that answering earnestly would only earn you a bored sigh.

“Ha!”, Furina let out a loud laugh before turning her face towards you. “Remind me to make you my court jester the next time we are in need of one”, she stated sarcastically before looking back at the ceiling. For your and Fountaine’s sakes however, you decided to disregard her order and to not to remind her of how she had just fired the last one for “being boring”.

“Aren’t you humans supposed to have interesting lives? What happened to ‘live every day like it's your last one’? Or is doing *this* what you all desire??”, she asked while extending her arms and wildly signaling into the air.

“What did you do all day?”, you asked, trying to sound as casual as possible even though your mind was starting to panic about what you might be greeted with tomorrow. But instead of answering your question, your Archon ignored you and continued to complain about how boring your life was, causing you to start worrying even more.

“I bet you loved this day, watching boring court cases, getting any food you desired for free, being asked for your opinion… eugh”, she let out yet another groan, making you wonder how easy it was for her to read you.

“Furina.”

“Anyway, I want my body back. So give it to me”, she continued to ignore you as she stated her earlier demand once again.

“What did you do while in my body, Furina?”, you asked one last time, grabbing both of her shoulders to force eye contact with her.

“You’ll probably have some explaining to do. I honestly want to see it all play out, it’s going to be the most entertainment I’ve had in months”, she answered off-handedly, causing you to bury your face in your palms as she continued on as if nothing happened.

“I’ll make you a judge as compensation, it’ll be a win-win. You’ll get to do what you always wanted to do and I may get one or two interesting hearings out of it”, Furina stated before pulling your hands away from your face and placing her forehead on yours, prompting the two of you to finally change bodies.

Yet, her offer caused you to feel even more conflicted than you already were. Finally, it was your time to let out a groan.

“That’s Nepotism.”

“I don’t care”, she responded bluntly, forcing you to use all your self control not to fall into the deep pit of hopelessness for your nation currently seeming to open in front of you. “Didn’t you want to become a judge?”

“Yes, but I want to earn it!”

What followed were a couple of seconds of silence before Furina turned around, walked over to a different couch, sat down, let out a long sigh and spoke a sentence so laced with irony that you didn’t know whether to cry or laugh at it.

“Fine. Geez, you’re so difficult to please.”

[varlaisvea]

2024 Art Retrospective Thing!

I’m only going to talk about one thing.

I’m a writer, but in 2024, many decades into my life, I got to feel what it’s like when your art tools can adjust to compensate for your disabilities.

In September, I finished the best piece of visual art I’ve ever made (warning: spicy). It didn’t get a ton of notes—maybe it’s not awesome to others, but I still can’t believe *I* made it. I’m still in love with it and so proud of it.

The thing is, I write all the time. Writing is the currency of my brain; I’d be doing it whether I had anything to say or not. Writing comes naturally to me. Drawing does not! I’ve always liked drawing, especially figures and faces, but I was never great at it— I have had chronically shaky/numb/painful hands my whole life, so visual art was always frustrating to me.

THEN i discovered the tools Procreate has to stabilize and correct for shaky hands! Suddenly lines went where I meant for them to go and curves and angles took on the form I intended as I drew them. I thought it was my lack of talent that meant I couldn’t draw lines the way I wanted, but the art that emerged once those I turned those settings on was miraculous to me. I discovered I actually COULD control visual art the way I always thought I couldn’t.

I only kinda used a reference for the pose. Otherwise the whole thing came out of my brain. I still can’t believe it.

I’m making you look at it again. Please go look at the whole thing, but here’s a cropped closeup:

(I made a post about the symbolism behind all the jewelry in this crop, too. It’s also a pretty good summary of the story so far.)

But!!! I need to talk about what Procreate allowed me to do here.

Tumblr thinks the pr0n screenshot i used as a reference is explicit (it's not), and I'm pissed bc i wanted to show you how little of it made it into the final. At any rate, I started with a reference image of two people in a similar pose to this, and all that remains of it is the bottom character's shoulder and the top character's leg. Everything else--the folds and drape of the fabric, the light of the fire, the substantial changes to the pose—was math I did in my brain. I quite literally rotated my blorbos in my mind and then drew it. I had absolutely no idea I could do that.

I mean, maybe it looks like something that would be easy for an amateur to make, idk! But to me? It’s amazing! This was a stupidly difficult pose I chose for myself, and I did it. It has a lot of strange shit in it and you can still tell what’s happening!!! The weird twist of her head and braid, the strange way his arm is angled, the way fabric covers every joint on the body you would otherwise use to orient yourself to what you’re seeing… I did all of that math in my mind, and I still pulled it off.

It took me 250 hours in Procreate. I later discovered character posing tools online that might have made this a whole lot easier, and I’ve started using those for subsequent art.

Idk why people didn’t really like this. Maybe it’s bc ESO is not super popular on tumblr, maybe it’s bc of the ostensibly heterosexual/cisgender pairing (both false!!!! btw!), maybe it’s bc of the conventionally attractive bodies? idk! but honestly, I still love it. this is my achievement of 2024 no matter how many notes it has, bc it represents an immense gift I received in 2024: I learned that after all these years, I actually did kinda know how to draw. :) Thank you Procreate!

[locusfandomtime]

Fake logo designs of various districts/companies in Hermitcraft S8! Something about Hermitcraft brings out the graphic designer in me (*cough* it’s because I love worldbuilding and making tiny details in a world) anyway!

Design notes under cut! (Alongside some headcanons - it is quite long)

Horse Head Farms: this is the logo that started this idea basically. I got such a cool image of an eclipse with a repeated b+w horse head pattern and I really wanted to make it happen. M.C. Esher has done designs like these but as tiles, which I used as inspiration. I think I could have made it look a bit clearer but for my first time drawing something like this I’m pretty happy. The text is from one of the default Procreate fonts and kinda makes HHF look like a law firm (which is the vibe I was going for, soul-stealers and lawyers are often sorta linked in fiction, and supposedly xB and Hypno are their own legal team). xB and Hypno are the only employees other than the people they blackmail into doing stuff for them.

Big Eyes: I wanted a red eyeball as a reference to Tango’s amazing prank on Boatem and I imagine it’s a goofy little mascot for the company. Some big goofy text felt fitting alongside this. I wanted to make a Pass n Gas specific logo too but I wanted to focus on the main “districts” rather than specific shops. I feel like this is kind of obvious but in-universe Big Eyes are VERY unsuccessful and actively losing money.

Hohenzollern Castle: not really a company but Joe and Cleo are cool so I wanted to include them and I had a tiny bit of blank space left on the page so here we are. I actually really love how the sign looks, the wood texture came out nice. They don’t have a logo as much as they do a sign outside their area, created by Joe, with the text written by Joe’s dyes. The “Hohenzollern” is kinda squished because he began to run out of room but was too stubborn to split the word in half. Cleo argues that it isn’t a logo and is just a sign with the castle’s name on it. Joe argues back with a deconstruction of “what is a logo, really?” and something about companies and capitalism and Cleo doesn’t care enough to respond.

Octagon: I am a fool who initially thought it was spelt “Octogon” and had to fix it well after I finished. Oh well. I wanted this to have a very evil look about it. You can instantly tell they’re the evil tech company running experiments on the quantum realm or whatever in a Hollywood movie. Between the unsafe work conditions and the tax fraud, it is a miracle they haven’t been shut down (reason: the government is scared of Doc)

The Evil Empire: the “the” wouldn’t fit so I had to make some sacrifices. Evil Xisuma is dramatic and edgy so he wanted the logo to be in fancy black calligraphic medieval looking text. It fits the evil castle aesthetic the whole area has pretty well too. The Evil Empire is kinda like a Hot Topic store and a Renaissance Fair combined, but it is also involved with Crypto. Despite being so weird it has a perfect niche of marketing to edgy teenagers so it is quite successful. The employees hate it there because their work mandated uniform is to “dress like an evil minion”. Jevin is a slime monster, Wels cosplays a knight and Beef turned into an alien so they thankfully didn’t have to change.

Boatem (BTM): heavily inspired by Grian’s simplified logo he made in Minecraft, where he shortened it to BTM. Despite already having a reference to work off, this was the hardest design. I knew I wanted it to be simple, all-white and leaning back dramatically but I spent ages fiddling with it. Boatem is the most successful company, being perfect for the general public and their shopping district a tourist destination in of itself. It nearly went into bankruptcy when Mumbo was CEO but has been very successful since his Robot took over.

Zedaph Laboratories: my favourite design. Hand writing the text was a nightmare but it came together nicely other than that. Sheep symbol because sheep are his brand. I used the same colour palette as his laboratory. “Laboratory” is misspelled for two reasons: 1) I realised my mistake too late to change it, 2) I think it is completely in character for Zedaph to not know how to spell laboratory and only realise after Tango points it out and be forever haunted by his mistake. Don’t let the sleek corporate design fool you, Zedaph is still wild and is the only person in the “Zedaph Labratories”.