#obviously i'm going the second route here

[marginofthought]

Rearrange ~ Wincest smut

It's still Christmas were I'm from so here is another present - aka I can't draw but I like to write for this post

___

“Dean?” Sam asked with a frown, looking up from the newspaper he was reading. “What are you doing?” Dean only made a non-committal noise while he left the highway, taking the exit ramp and merging onto the next street.

Sam dismissed his brother and focused back on the research he was doing. Maybe Dean noticed something with the car he wanted to check out or maybe Dean needed to take a leak, this wasn’t the first time Dean had randomly pulled off their current route for any number of reasons. 

When Sam looked up again a moment later they weren’t headed into town like Sam had expected but were rather turning onto an even more remote road. Sam didn’t even want to call it a street, it was in such poor condition. 

“Dean, there was a sign for a gas station and a McDonald’s if you needed a piss.” Sam said and looked over to the driver’s side. 

“Not what I need,” Dean grumbled and Sam was surprised by the mixture of concentration and distraction on Dean’s face.

Sam folded the newspaper in his lap and laid it onto the dashboard before turning towards his brother. “Everything alright, Dean?” 

Dean shot Sam a quick look at the concern in the younger brother’s tone but turned away just as fast, grunting once again.

A few seconds later Dean pulled the car onto the basically non-existent shoulder near a copse of trees. He turned the car off and turned to Sam just as he was opening his mouth again. “Out!” Dean ordered, though not unkindly. 

“What?” Sam asked, confusion and annoyance warring in his tone. 

“Out, Sammy!”

Sam shook his head in disbelief but followed his brother’s orders, getting out of the creaking door and stepping into the warm sunshine. The main road was still visible and Sam could hear cars whooshing by. 

The driver’s side door opened with another creak and Dean’s heavy boots hit the dirty ground before the door fell closed again. 

“Come here,” Dean gruffly said and patted the hood of the car. 

Sam wanted to argue but knew that it wouldn’t do much good and sighed, rolling his eyes and walking towards where Dean was standing. “Okay, what’s going on?” Sam asked once again when he was standing just in front of Dean. 

“Do you even know what you’re doing to me? All nerdy and hot in my car.” Dean asked back gruffly, pulling Sam into a quick kiss before turning him around and using Sam’s temporary confusion to pin him to the hood. 

Sam grunted in surprise, barely able to support himself with his arms, landing on his elbows as he was bent over the warm metal. 

Dean stepped up behind him, interrupting Sam’s “What?” when he ground his hips against Sam’s ass, making his intentions clear. 

“You know, Dean, there was a sign for a motel too.” Sam chuckled, his laugh quickly turning into a moan. 

“Yeah but I want you right here, wanna fuck my baby on my baby.” Dean breathed against Sam’s ear, nipping at the sensitive flesh afterwards. 

It wasn’t the first time Dean had used some variation of that phrase but it always managed to make Sam flush like a teenage girl, the blush spreading down to his chest. 

“Dean,” Sam whined as he remembered where they were and where they had been on their way to. “Two hours and we can do this on a bed with some pre-”

“No!” Dean growled into his ear. “Now. On my baby.” 

Greedy hands wormed under Sam’s body, struggling to open his belt only by feel. Sam lifted his hips a bit until Dean finally managed to open the belt and loosen it, he popped the button open before he forced Sam’s jeans over his hips without even pulling the fly down. 

Sam grunted a little when he was tucked backwards before the material slid down the rest of his legs, his boxer shorts immediately following. 

Dean was obviously in a mood and Sam had learned early on in their relationship that it was best to let his brother get it out of his system with minimal complaints. 

His brother’s hands roamed across his naked skin before he started kneading Sam’s ass, pulling the cheeks apart and exposing Sam’s most intimate parts to the summer sun. 

A dry finger rubbed over the furled skin with purpose and Sam was barely able to choke out a warning before Dean pushed it inside him. 

“You’re not fucking me dry!” Sam growled out, trying to push his hips forward and out of Dean’s grip. 

Dean grumbled before a fat glob of spit landed on Sam’s exposed hole, running down the crack before Dean scoped it up and shoved it inside along a second finger. 

“Fuck,” Sam gasped out, the friction rough and he could feel his body heating up. It wasn’t quite painful yet but Sam knew that that could still change.

Dean was big, not just proportional for a 6’1” guy but actually big, call it Winchester genes or a blessing or whatever but Dean was huge. His soft cock alone was probably what guys would dream of having when hard and then add on that his brother, much like himself, was a grower, meant that Dean was much larger than average. 

It had taken them a few tries to even stretch Sam wide enough for Dean the first time and he was still struggling sometimes, especially in the oral department. 

That wasn’t to say that Sam disliked it, oh no, quite the opposite. Sam loved the feeling of being stuffed to the brim, stretched out by Dean’s cock, filling him up like it was made for him. 

Sam just usually preferred it with a healthy amount of lube and stretching beforehand. Once they had done it with just spit and Sam had been uncomfortable for days afterwards, and not in the fun - i can still feel you - kind of way.

Dean’s two thick fingers were pushing deeper into Sam and soon another wad of spit was added, slicking the way but not nearly enough. Sam tried his best to relax into it and move with Dean instead of against him but it didn’t seem to help all that much.

“Dean,” Sam groaned again. “Get the lube from the glove box.” 

Sam had started to keep a bottle there after the previous incident, not willing to risk it again. Dean however ignored his request, continuing to pump his fingers in and out of Sam’s tight hole, instead even pushing a third finger against it. 

A hand shot out and grasped Dean’s wrist, stopping him. “Get the lube, I mean it, Dean.”

“Sammy, c’mon.” Dean tried to plead.

“No, it’s like five feet and you know what happened last time.”

“That I do,” Dean said smugly but he finally pulled his fingers free. Whenever the incident was mentioned Dean had that stupid smug grin on his face, self satisfied with his dick and the ability to make Sam go wild from it, which Sam couldn’t even really deny. 

Dean’s weight lifted off of him and Sam could hear the creak of the door before Dean came back. A second later the fingers were back too, this time coated in cold slick lube and Sam breathed out a sigh of relief.

The third finger was quickly added and while Sam usually petitioned for a fourth, Dean apparently really was impatient after Sam had made him stop once already. 

There was the quiet sound of a zipper and fabric before Dean pulled his fingers back out and the blunt head of Dean’s dick was pressed against the wrinkled hole.

Sam braced himself, taking a deep breath and tried to relax when Dean pushed inside. The head of his dick squeezed past the first muscle and Sam’s breath was punched out of him when Dean continued to push forward.

“Fuck,” Sam groaned again, the pressure overwhelming and he couldn’t keep his noises in. He knew he was whimpering and whining, groaning and moaning while Dean buried himself balls deep in his little brother’s ass. 

“Feel so good, Sammy. So goddamn fucking tight, squeezing me so tight.” Dean told him. 

Dean gripped Sam’s hips, pinning him to the Impala before pulling back out and pushing back inside. He quickly established a rhythm, hips pumping forward and backward.

The pressure was perfect, Sam feeling so incredibly full but the friction was still quite uncomfortable where he wasn’t quite stretched enough. “More lube,” Sam grumbled after Dean pulled out once again. 

There was some shuffling and shaking from the side and a slick noise before another glob of lube landed on Sam along with a small noise from Dean.

“What?” Sam asked and tried to turn around to look at his brother.

“Erhm, the lube is empty.” Dean said and Sam could imagine the look on his face but before he could reply or react in any way, Dean shoved back inside.

The slide was slicker that was for sure but Sam would surely feel it tomorrow, especially after Dean established a rhythm again. 

Dean’s hips were continuously moving, his dick pushing deep into Sam, filling him up and Sam swore he should be able to see a bulge in his stomach. (Once when they had fucked in the morning and Sam’s stomach was at it flattest, it had actually happened and Sam could swear that Dean had never been more pleased or cum harder than that morning) 

Every thrust made a pass by Sam’s prostate and his own dick was bouncing and twitching under him, almost ready to burst just from Dean fucking him like this. Pushing all the way inside again, Dean stilled for a moment before he rocked his hips just a little, making Sam mewl just a little. 

“Love your little noises,” Dean said breathlessly, continuing to rock into Sam. 

Sam couldn’t concentrate, split open and flared wide by his big brother and he absentmindedly worried that Dean would leave a gape when he was done. “Nngh,” he managed intelligently. 

His brother chuckled behind him again. “See, that’s what I mean.”

Sam tried to make his mouth work but was interrupted once again by Dean pulling out before roughly thrusting back in. It made Sam moan loudly, a hint of discomfort in the sound as Sam was split open again and again on Dean’s thick cock and the little lube they had was almost dried up.

Dean’s hands shifted, pulling Sam up against his chest. In the back of his mind Sam marveled at the easy strength with which his brother could manhandle all of Sam. His brain however was still in shambles and it was difficult for Sam to make more than unintelligible noises.

The angle change brought tears to Sam’s eyes as Dean was able to fill him even better, his rim pulled wide with every thrust. Sam tried to brace himself on Dean’s arms but his hand slipped on the sweat slick skin. 

“Fuck!” Sam cried out as his orgasm bowled him over. His body seized up, hips rocking back into Dean as he came without a hand on his dick. Every one of Dean’s thrust made another spurt of cum erupt from his cock, white streaks tarnishing the black metal of Baby’s hood. Sam keened loudly and his vision went fuzzy, when Dean doubled down, his brother’s name falling from his lips. 

“Take it, baby, c’mon.” Dean’s voice was rough, his breath fanning hot across Sam’s neck. A few thrusts later and Dean pulled him even tighter while his hips stuttered and he filled his little brother up inside. 

Sam collapsed back onto the hood once Dean released his grip, pulling out too quickly at the motion and making Sam hiss at the sore feeling. 

“You okay?” Dean asked with a pat to Sam’s side. 

Sam grunted before extricating a hand from under him and putting up a thumb. “Yeah,” he slurred.

..

It had taken Sam a few minutes to peel himself off the hood, pulling up his pants with shaking legs and trapping Dean’s cum in his boxers.

Sam looked like a mess when he saw himself in the window reflection. His hair was tousled even though he couldn’t remember either of them getting a hand in it, he was flushed and sweaty both from the activity and the summer sun. Sam’s cheeks burned even brighter when he noticed the visible stains of cum on his shirt and he quickly whipped it off, reaching into the back for another t-shirt. 

Sitting down was equally as uncomfortable as his wet boxers met his sore ass. Sam was a little tempted to both change his boxers and also reach inside his current ones to feel if Dean finally succeeded in leaving him gaping.

Dean whistled nonchalantly as he got into the car after wiping down the hood and sank into the driver’s seat with a pleased expression. 

Sam was still struggling with a decision and words when Dean turned the car back on, reversing up to the main street before turning onto it. 

“Dean?” Sam asked when Dean had ignored the highway and drove into town this time. 

Dean ignored him again until he pulled into the town's diner and Sam’s stomach churned at just the smell of grease that hit him when Dean’s door opened. “C’mon, I’m hungry now.” Dean grinned cheekily and got out, striding towards the front door. 

Sam shook his head bemusedly, his brother ever the hedonist. Sam stiffly got out of the car, hoping no one nearby was looking at him before opening the trunk and pulling out his duffel bag. 

Dean was already sitting at a booth when Sam walked past him and gestured at the restroom near the back, waiting for Dean to nod before he left for it. 

A few minutes later Sam came back out in a fresh pair of boxers, though he kept the jeans the same so as not to attract too much attention. 

He slid into the booth opposite from Dean and carefully sat down, his mouth twisting slightly at the sore feeling.

“You’re replacing the lube at the next store,” Sam hissed at his brother, trying to look stern.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t act like you don’t love it.” Dean grinned back and knew he was right when Sam’s face turned even more sour but didn’t say anything else. 

..

Dean had chatted shortly with the elderly waitress and was now biting heartily into his greasy mess of a double cheeseburger, of course with extra onions. The sight and smell were enough for Sam’s stomach to turn and he tried to focus on his own plate. 

The chicken wrap he had ordered was a little dry but he preferred it to the grease dripping down Dean’s fingers. Sam bit into one of his fries and even though it was kind of gross, found his eyes wandering back to his brother. 

There was such a happy and satisfied smile on Dean’s face that Sam temporarily forgot his disgust. It was rare to see Dean this carefree and Sam would do most things to ensure Dean could look like that more often. 

That was until he shifted in his seat and was reminded of just how sore his ass was and then he had to wonder how Dean could eat so nonchalantly, talk with strangers and jam out to music when he had just rearranged Sam’s guts a few minutes ago. 

Sam shook his head, feeling like every person in sight could read exactly what they had done not too long ago but well, he would do it again, wouldn’t he…

[dimiclaudeblaigan]

Honestly though, this (what Ashe is pointing out) is exactly why I don't think GW could possibly end well. There's no "talking it over" after all the bloodshed (especially bloodshed started by them, and especially bloodshed started by them that didn't have to happen).

The way the narration leaves it "open" too at the end of GW just comes across as "it failed". It feels like... a kind of pointless story?

And I know some people might think that since Dimitri personally isn't as deeply affected by losing Matthias and so might be willing, that's still no good if his people and closest allies aren't. Rodrigue and Sylvain wouldn't be so forgiving, and I do think Dimitri would follow suit because that's his father (Rodrigue)'s closest friend and one of his own closest friends' father.

Add that to the fact that they have Sreng to deal with still (and I imagine sooner or Sylvain would figure out that Leicester had a hand in provoking Sreng to attack Faerghus) on top of losing Matthias and I imagine all the stress and aggravation wouldn't bode well for Leicester as far as Claude's thinking of things working out goes.

I just really can't see where GW goes afterward that would be "good" or works in Claude's favor at all. Maybe that was the intention and it was meant to be a route with a completely tragic ending, but apparently there are players who think it would end well and whatnot and I just can't see that happening (both from Faerghus' end and from Adrestia's end, the latter of which Claude discussed within GW itself).

If their intention was for a totally tragic ending, like yeah, I can see that... but as always the writing muddies the waters to make it sound good while something bad is happening. It keeps trying to have a positive spin on bad things as if they're just afraid to commit to a fully bad ending.

[ashleighneville]

Signed up for German evening classes probably given myself far too much work and not 100% sure I've picked the right level but being entrusted with the family recipe book when my nan passes feels like a lot of responsibility so I should probably at least try to not have to completely rely on google translate to use it, particularly as the only one who I think could know German is my uncle who lived in Munich for a bit.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Klumpig's Halloween:

Fridolina Rolfö x Teen!Reader

Summary: The fourth of my Halloween-centric fics

Frido sighs as Aitana approaches.

"Don't," She says.

"I haven't even said anything."

"And yet, I knew what you were going to say. So, please, don't."

It seems that everyone in Frido's life has decided to ignore her though because Aitana still speaks.

"She dressed up as you, huh? That's kind of funny."

"It's really not."

"I thought it was funny."

"That's because you've got the same sense of humour as her."

Frido takes a swig of her wine, looks at the glass for a moment before downing the rest like a shot, already reaching for the bottle to refill it again.

You're across the room from her with Vicky and Salma. They're gone the more traditional Halloween route, Salma as a vampire and Vicky as a werewolf.

You've decided against that even though you used to love it.

Frido's whole camera role is filled with pictures of you from your childhood in your cute little Halloween costumes. She can still remember dressing up like a ghost with you and helping you go around town trick-or-treating while your parents got the family Halloween party started.

Somewhere along the way, at some point during those years when Frido left the country and you got older, you'd decided against all the traditional Halloween stuff.

No more masks and cute costumes and insisting that you're 'a unicorn-princess-witch, Frido! Obviously!' in favour of more chilled out costumes that you didn't have to buy and could just scrounge up from your wardrobe.

Maybe you'd even throw on some gory makeup to really sell it but gone are the days of you in a little white sheet with eye holes cut out and fake, oversized teeth.

You were a teenager now and after last year's fiasco of you just dressed as a 'first dead girl' from a horror movie, Frido's done arguing - though she does make sure to take your picture in front of the wall to add to her Halloween collection.

This time though, you've really outdone yourself, deciding to forgo your wardrobe entirely in favour of Frido's.

You're in her Barcelona kit, her shorts, her shirt and her socks. You've taken her favourite pair of football boots and even her shin guards. It was cold when you left the house so you grabbed her Sweden warm up jacket even though your own was perfectly capable of being worn.

"Oh," Ingrid says over the top of her own glass of wine," Here we go."

She glances meaningfully back over at you as Alexia walks over.

"The point of a Halloween party," Alexia says," Is to dress up, Frido. If you don't dress up then the younger players won't dress up."

"I am dressed up."

"You're wearing your football kit. You're hardly dressed up."

"But I am!"

"You're not."

You turn around, relishing in the brief look of surprise that crosses your captain's face. It always takes people a few seconds to realise which Rolfö they're talking to.

"But I am!" You say triumphantly," I'm Frido! I should have brought a wine glass with me but I didn't want to push it."

From across the room, Frido sighs.

"I don't always have a wine glass on me!" She yells.

You look pointedly at her hand and she hastily puts it down.

"You should tell her off, capi," You say to Alexia with a cheeky grin," A glass of wine after every big match to unwind. Isn't that so bad? I mean, you don't even drink during the season. Surely, Frido should follow your lead, right? I mean, you don't want me thinking that what Frido's doing is acceptable?"

"Stop trying to set Alexia on me!" Frido yells back," If I want a glass of wine for putting up with your craziness then I'll have a glass of wine."

You ignore her in favour of laying it on thick with your captain.

"Alexia, are you listening to her? First she's drinking and now she's calling me crazy! You should really bench her!"

"Funny," Alexia says dryly," You must be really getting into character because she asked me to bench you a few weeks ago as well."

You grin. "Well, at least she can't ask you to do that now, seeing as...you know..."

You gesture to your bandaged leg. Most of it is hidden under Frido's shorts and socks but a bit of it peaks out.

Frido sighs, clicking her fingers and pointing in front of her.

On any other day, you'd probably argue a bit about it but you're with the team right now and you know they can only take so much Rolfö cousin bickering.

You hobble over on crutches to stop in front of her.

Frido stands fluidly, placing her glass down on the side table.

"You know I don't like it when you poke fun at your injury," She says, cupping your cheek in one of her hands," It's serious."

"I know," You huff," But it was just a joke. Just trying to keep it light."

"I know but-"

"It is Halloween after all."

Frido rolls her eyes fondly. "You don't think dressing up as me is joke enough?"

She recognises the cheeky grin on your face the moment it curls upwards at the corner of your mouth.

"Oh man," You pretend to groan," But I haven't even gotten to the best part."

"And what exactly is the best part?"

"The part when I do my impression of you when you found out that Brick was coming to stay."

"No! Don't you-"

"She screamed so loud," You tell the group assembled near Frido's seat," And stomped her feet like a little girl. She said something like- Hey! Put me down! Frido!"

Frido easily lifts you over her shoulder.

"I think we're going to call a cab and go home. It's past this one's bedtime."

"I don't have a bedtime! Stop telling people I have a bedtime!"

[aingeal98]

More Jason and Cass thoughts (sorry but also not sorry) but if I was magically given full control over DC and could write what I'd want obviously I'd make Cass Batman but I've been thinking of what sort of reaction and role Jason would have in response. I think I'd write his version of "Congrats on the new job!" as a test, involving the Joker and civilians and gangs and Red Hood and a ton of explosives. Bruce failed me, and now he's given up. You're his successor, let's see how you handle this dilemma that freaked him out so badly he threw a batarang into my throat rather than let me avenge my own death in front of him.

So obviously Cass will overcome the traps and the puzzles. That's the fun part to show how competent both of them are and sprinkle in little character moments as we go. But then we reach the emotional crux of the matter, probably laid out as some sort of saw trap because it's Jason. Here I am, a victim of murder. You say nobody dies tonight but I did, and I want the man who did it dead. Not only did Batman fail to avenge me but he failed to stop the Joker from going on to create even more victims. What right do you have to stop me from getting justice for myself? What right does this man have to life after what he's taken from me and from countless others? I'm not trying to kill a random stranger, I'm specifically demanding justice for my own death that I never got while I was gone.

There are two ways this could go. The straightforward route if I knew my time on this run was limited would probably be a pyrrhic victory like the ones Cass's og series was so fond of. Just like Bruce in utrh, she acts on instinct and saves the Joker (and Jason this time) . A win technically, but she fails the test. Jason is once again vindicated but with nothing to show for it. The story ends with Cass sending the Joker back to jail and going back to the batcave, where the old Robin costume looms judgementally, highlighting her failure. It would be the most fitting end given their character molds, all tragedy and conviction and unstoppable force meets immovable object etc.

However... I think the option I prefer would be a little different. Cass levelling with Jason, a killer talking to a murder victim. She has no right to stop Jason from getting justice, she has no love for the Joker but she knows any death she allows to happen like this would devastate her, just like that death row inmate long ago she tried to break out but ended up letting go once the family of the victim talked to her and demanded justice. I think... In this specific situation, she'd just be honest. Morally she has no right sure. Personally she just really really doesn't want anyone to die. Give her one chance, please. Let her try it her way. Not demanding, not lecturing or insisting, just... Please. Don't do this. Let me try another way.

And then what? Jason asks.

In the end a deal is struck. Cass will take the Joker and lock him up, ensuring he never harms anyone again while also trying to rehabilitate him. But the second she fails and he gets free, Jason kills him and she won't stand in his way. It's the kind of deal that leaves both of them mildly disgusted and dissatisfied with themselves, neither of them naturally creatures of compromise when it comes to this specific topic. But Cass is willing to do anything to avoid death and Jason did not expect the new Bat to be so... Flexible? Kind of? Of course maybe she won't actually hold up her end of the deal and when the Joker gets loose she'll try and stop Jason from killing him and he'll get his miserable vindication, but right now this is something strange and new and he's mildly confused and curious about where it will go. He doesn't believe in her ability to contain the Joker forever but he's willing to let her try because her reaction to that future failure interests him. She's given him a sword of damocles to hang above her head and he didn't ask for it or expect it. It's the type of power he never thought the Bat would just... Hand to him.

The conflict ends with neither of them fully winning or losing. They both don't really know what to feel about this.

The thing is, the second Cass let's Jason kill the Joker she's hanging up the mantle. She's staking the Bat on this, because it's always go big or go home with her when it comes to saving others, even someone like the Joker. In this magical universe where I have unlimited power, Cass would lock the Joker in a secret bunker and have Leslie Thompkins talk to him daily, mostly because I think her pacifism speeches and debates in the comics would make a fun contrast to the Joker's evil sadism. (But what about his rights? Doesn't he deserve a trial and to be held in a regular prison? I'm going to be honest I think Cass would be very comfortable bending the rules on this specific situation. Morally questionable but I'd have fun with it. She's going to let Leslie treat Joker like her personal pet project to save his soul because yes she wants him to change but also she's got a city to save every night so go crazy Leslie, have fun.)

And the Batman series would continue with Cass as the lead, new challenges and new antagonists and every twenty issues or so for the first hundred we'll cut back to the Joker briefly if his chats with Leslie can help highlight some thematic element of the current arc. But bit by bit he'd slowly fade away onto oblivion, maybe getting referenced every hundred issues or so until eventually no one remembers or cares about him because there's so much else going on. Meanwhile Jason's got a good thing going as Red Hood, primarily based in Park Row and a tentative ally on the occasion when their vigilante work aligns. Unlike Joker he's a much more frequent character in the comics, and after say 10 years (this is my magical fantasy universe Cass's batman run is going to last for a very long time alright) when people think of DC characters they think of Red Hood long before they think of the Joker.

Is any of this realistic? Right now of course not. It's why I'd go with the pyrrhic victory if I actually got the chance, because it would be the best way to tell the story in the larger context of the Bat narrative. But it's my fantasy DC editor and writer daydream and I'm going to dream big. They're never going to be normal happy siblings, their personal demons will never fully let them be free and the looming possibility of losing everything they currently have narrative wise if Bruce comes back as Batman will always be there. But it's maybe the closest to peace they'll ever get. Unsatisfying and tame compromise that probably violates several laws and ethical codes but whatever. Cass has never read the Geneva convention and Jason's not going to shed tears over the Joker. Let him die relevancy wise if not physically.

[moonsaver]

Okay, honestly, I'm still reeling from the entire penacony quest, but here's my take on Sunday so far;

He's manipulative, obviously.

But like.. the type that's kind of hesitant from time to time because he's still sincere to a degree. At least, when it comes to his loved ones.

So, I guess that hesitance decreases a lot if you're just some nobody. Even then, Sunday does want the better for everyone, too. It just means that others may bear the brunt of it for the most part before being able to get ahold of it.

Also, at the very least, even if some people suffer, at the end Sunday believes they will reach where they want to, after. In that case, however, Sunday suffers far more than them, without actually ever reaching his own destination or idea of paradise.

However, this view is a bit distorted. Sunday believes to be "sacrificing" himself, shouldering loneliness and burdens in order to uphold everyone else's "paradise". But to the others, he's simply a tyrant overruling everyone's will with his own idea of Order.

Sunday deeply cares. He cares too much. That's kind of the problem.

A bit of self-destructing tendencies when pushed too far, I guess.

Lets ignore logic established by the quest for a second (because i literally am still reeling from it)

Imagine Sunday first discovers this possibility. He's terrified of it, but at the same time, he truly thinks this is humanity's salvage – for everyone who has deeply suffered. He thinks of you.

You who have had your fair share of pain, who confides in him late at night in the quiet of your privacy, hushed voices like silenced by a thick blanket through the wall.

You deserve to live a sweeter life. He thinks. No. You deserve more. He knows.

The first person he ever wants to step into this paradise – you.

Now, although Sunday was defeated in the end, we all know that unfortunately, our ragtag team had to wake up again because defeating him first was a dream. This means at some point, Sunday did succeed.

And after everyone wakes, you don't. You continue sleeping soundly. So does Sunday.

The rest of the world can return to their miserable, bitter lives outside of this dream; but Sunday will be damned if he's letting you go. Perhaps.. it's not a selfless wish, anymore. Perhaps at this point, Sunday desperately, selfishly, grips onto you with the latches of a sweet, deep dream. One where he was fatally destined to never reach, only to control from the waking world. Now that everyone else has woken, he wants to return to the dream. He wants to return to you, who he has so lovingly entrenched deep into it.

Also, Robin. Im in SO much pain... PLEASW..

Do you guys think.. even if Robin was vehemently resistant against Sunday's ideas..

Even though Sunday knew she wouldn't stand for it..

Do you guys think.. he wanted her to also join him at the end and enjoy the "Paradise" he created aswell?

Do you think he would have wanted Robin to stop worrying about everything, to take rest, to finally come home, and sing to her heart's content inside the dream? The dream where they set the bird free? The dream where Sunday still has a sweet tooth? The dream where she never has to wear elaborate neck-pieces? The dream where neither of them was hurt? Where neither of them left each other?

Oh...ogh. . My heart.

Sunday would be such a scary lover, too.

I mean even normally, I don't think a relationship with him would be that healthy

Particularly because it seems so healthy

If reader was in a relationship with normal sunday, I mean.. it's gonna at least appear healthy and normal, even to them. It's probably just Sunday having to constantly burden himself with all the dirty strings he has to pull, the quiet rush of water when he washes his hands before caressing the side of your face, the tight, closed smile he would give if you ever asked him what was wrong.. he can't let you know.

I think he'll take a yandere route in an established relationship if you do happen to find out what's been going on behind the scenes. He'll have to calm you down, and you promise you won't peep about it. The build up is almost invisible, because things seem to go back to the way they were. Before Sunday starts acting a bit.. restless. That would be when his yan! Tendencies would start kicking in, for a variety of reasons.

I feel like y'know, out of all the hsr cast, he's one of the characters who is genuinely very close to becoming a yandere canonically. Control freak? Check. Twisted ideals? Check. Unchecked power? Check. Hypnotization/manipulation? Check.

Also, the slight difference of his color pallete as opposed to Robin's.

His is much more washes out than Robin's. It's more "duller" but also more professional, and the gold of his halo is more colder than the warmer tone of Robin's halo. They both still have white/grey as a major color in their palletes, but Sunday's is accompanied by deep navy blues, or washed out blues. Robin's is very vibrant and purple. The only blue segment of her pallete is her hair, and it's remarkably more vibrant than Sunday's.

Also.. Sunday's whole ideas on "weak" and "strong"

Of course, it wasn't all correct, but that doesn't mean they didn't hold some semblance of sense.

Regardless, this playing with yan! Tendencies..... HOOOOO boy

So many thoughts. Sunday manipulating his partner is quite possibly the most common theme in them.

[acis-arts]

Hello everyoneee, I got super busy recently, but I was still able to do some art and writing in the meantime! Here's all my Cult Leader Designs as well as mentions of the AUs I have!!

Some of these will probably change over time, if I feel like it. I just wanna info dump on my AUs and I also think it's good to post how they currently look instead of waiting for too long.

Down below is the info dump on my AUs:

(Before you start reading: "Kali" is the name of my Lamb)

Lost Crowns AU (/Forgotten Lands of the Old Faith):

This AU was called "Forgotten Lands of the Old Faith" at first, but I refer to it as "Lost Crowns AU" mostly because that name fits too and is shorter.

This is my main AU! In it, the entire story of the game is pretty much unchanged, this AU focuses more on what happens after the events in the game. I haven't finished the game yet and I'm assuming after getting all Bishops, the game is pretty much done. (update because I wrote these notes some days ago: I got Shamura in my cult today so I finished the main story at last)

"A few days after freeing all the Bishops, Kali wakes up and something is missing. The Red Crown is gone, all Crowns are gone. They run to find Narinder and the Bishops, but none of them are behind it. Together, all 6 of them try to confront the Mystic Seller next, but upon arriving at the gate they were always situated in, they find nothing."

The Mystic Seller left the Lands of the Old Faith for good and took everything supernatural with them. I haven't thought about a solid reason for that yet, because my main idea behind this is that Kali and the others are now forced to live without all their supernatural powers. They can't perform Rituals, they can't resurrect, they can't summon weapons and none of the Follower necklaces work anymore. The only thing that was left is the immortality of Kali, Narinder and the Bishops. They won't age but the risk of dying permanently is there.

I have no idea if I want to keep this idea or if I want to scrap this, but I also thought about Kali finding a gateway into the lands of the Gods and together with Narinder, they try to find the Mystic Seller to get answers. The reason Narinder comes along is because he's more familiar with that place and Kali would need someone like that. The second reason obviously being that I want to pair them up and have them develop their relationship over this adventure (with a proposal at the end of it perhaps). Third reason: it's fun to have the Bishops take care of the Cult without Kali and Narinder around.

I have so much more stuff for this AU, but this is already so much text. Let's hope I get to post more in the future!

Swap AU:

This is pretty self explanatory and the majority of what I posted on here so far. As a short summary: Narinder is now the Last Cat remaining, becoming the Vessel of Kali as The One Who Waits

No Mercy AU:

This is based on the second save file I have in COTL, on which I'm trying to do an "evil route". In this AU, Kali isn't kind and optimistic, instead becoming a callous, cruel cult leader after receiving the Red Crown. Up until that moment, they were at the bottom of the food chain and upon receiving the power of a God, they were finally the one in control for the first time in their life. They decided to never let go of the Crown and their Powers.

Orange Crown AU:

This AU is pretty much just my close circle and me inserted into Cult of the Lamb. So far my partner and me are inserted as NariLamb and my brother is the Mystic Seller because he looks like them. This one is probably uninteresting to most of you, as you don't know any of us. I won't be posting that much about this and keep it private mostly, but maybe some of you are still interested in the art, so let's see.

As always, Thank you so much for reading up until this point!! I hope you all had a good week!

[cosmicalily]

"to be loved is to be remembered" - a mini series by @cosmicalily. view series masterlist, and outline here

procedural memory | kim seungmin x fem!reader

procedural memory: a type of implicit memory that is categorised as the unconscious guide to the processes and tasks performed on a daily basis.

author's note: this might be one of my favourite seungmin fics i've ever written. and maybe i'm biased because he is my bias and i love strawberry matcha, but i think sometimes it's okay to be self indulgent. enjoy!

There were many things that Seungmin would do without realising, as if he was on autopilot. Actions that were ingrained into his daily routine, little activities that made up his day without his awareness. The way he made his bed, the double knot he always tied on his shoelaces, the route he took to the coffee shop where he worked. He loved his routine; he loved simplicity and consistency.

At work, he thought even less about his actions. He was a quick learner, and had mastered the art of perfect coffee early on. He heard the words ‘latte’ or ‘flat white’ and somehow the completed drink would appear in front of him thirty seconds later.

“Do you do iced strawberry matchas?” a voice asked, snapping Seungmin out of his coffee-scented daze. He looked at the shot he’d started running for a flat white and then at you, cheeks pink from the cold and eyes sparkling. A soft blue scarf was wrapped around your neck, covering your chin, and you wore a cosy navy cable knit sweater, just a little too big at the sleeves.

Seungmin thought intently. “We don’t,” he said truthfully, drumming his fingers on the benchtop. “But give me a second. I’ll try and make something for you.”

You beamed in excitement. “Thank you!”

“It’s no problem,” Seungmin gave a half smile back, digging around for the matcha powder. “Although, I have to say, who orders an iced drink in the middle of winter?”

Your cheeks flushed a little pinker and you rolled your eyes. “Shut up, it’s business for you, isn’t it? And I’ll tip, obviously, because it’s a custom order. They just don’t taste as good warm. I tried it once, and it was awful.”

“Was it?” Seungmin paused, tipping the ice cubes from your cup back into the tray and placing it into the freezer. “I’m going to try and change your mind. Out of confidence as a good barista, but also out of concern for your health, because you’re literally going to freeze as soon as you step outside with ice in your system.”

“And if I don’t like it?”

“It’s on the house.”

“Deal,” you agreed, leaning against the counter and watching as he poured the frothed strawberry milk, creating a little bear design. He leaned to grab a lid, but you knocked his hand away. “It’ll cover the art you did,” you protested, and he shook his head in amusement.

You breathed in the soft, sweet scent and took a sip, thinking hard. Seungmin watched intently, his attention distracted from the three coffee orders he had lined up to complete next. You smiled, and his face softened. “Good?” he asked.

“It’s shit,” you deadpanned, then burst out laughing. “It’s amazing! How much do I owe you for it?”

“Nothing,” Seungmin replied, eyes shining.

You opened your mouth to protest, but he gave you a warning look. “Do you do this often, then?” you asked, taking another long sip of your drink.

“What do you mean?”

“Save girls with silly drink orders from hypothermia.”

“Sure, it’s my favourite pastime,” Seungmin replied seriously, though his eyes twinkled mischievously. “No, not ever before. You’re the first, Strawberry.”

Your smile widened at the nickname. “Even if you’re lying, I feel special. Thank you…” you paused.

“Seungmin,” he finished, handing over a latte to a man behind you.

“Thank you, Seungmin. I’ll be back, I promise!”

He nodded. “I know you will. See you around, Miss Matcha.”

You snorted and walked towards the door, spinning around and blowing him a quick kiss. He winked and you burst into a fit of laughter, and once you were properly out of sight, he let a full smile creep across his face.

By your third visit to the coffee shop, he didn’t even need a prompt to make your order. By the fifth, your drink would be sitting, ready for you, extra hot. Even though you no longer had a reason to wait, you always stayed to talk to him, and he was thankful you did.

Soon, Seungmin became unconsciously aware of your routine, of your timing, of your daily scarf rotation. Once winter ended, he caved and made you your first iced strawberry matcha, which you declared better than any other iced drink you’d ever consumed. He still refused to let you pay, but he was always accepting of your newfound habit of leaning across the counter and giving him a quick kiss before you left for the morning. Initially on the cheek, but by mid spring, on the lips. Your kisses tasted of your mauve lipstick, cinnamon, and of course, strawberry matcha.

After a year of dating, you moved into his apartment. Seungmin, a lover of routine and consistency, found himself mesmerised by your sporadic actions and in the moment decisions. It didn’t frustrate him, the way he worried it would. Your presence was a constant, something dependable that he centred his new, irregular routine around, filled with evening walks and beach day trips. He learnt your habits, and soon, your actions were as familiar to him as his own. He would still make his bed in the morning, and you'd help him, finishing the job off with the two jellycat puppies you'd bought for your six month anniversary. He would tie a double knot in his shoelaces, and wait for you to slip on your ballet flats. Whilst you always had your signature drink at his shop, he knew you loved chamomile before bed, and there was always a mug of it by your bedside after you'd gotten out of the shower.

And of course, you did the same for him, but in your own way. You'd lay on top of him, playing with his hair for hours, explaining every single thing you adored about him. You cooked him dinner, and you'd sit on the counter beside him as he did the dishes. It was routine. You were each other's routines.

He kept working at the coffee shop, but now as a manager, although he always insisted on making your drink himself, and you would visit him, sometimes bringing your laptop and glasses with you to set up in a corner and work, other times bringing whatever book you were currently engrossed in.

“Hi baby,” you smiled up at him, stretching your arms and dog-earing your page.

“You know I hate when you do that,” he groaned, sitting beside you on the bench. Nevertheless, he pressed a kiss against your cheek and you giggled.

“I know, but like, it shows the love I have for my books. The ones that have crumpled pages and tea stains and frayed edges are the ones I read the most.”

Seungmin shook his head. “I’m just teasing. I love you and your broken books.”

“They aren’t broken-” you protested, but he cupped your face in his hands and silenced you with a soft kiss.

“I love you,” he repeated, eyes glossed over.

“I love you too,” you gazed back at him. Your book fell off your lap, but you didn’t move to grab it. The strawberry matcha Seungmin had brought over was probably cooling, but you didn’t care. It was moments like this where everything felt like muscle memory, where nothing felt new or uncomfortable. He was familiar.

He grabbed your hand, entwining your fingers in his. You gently stroked his thumb, then whined when he let go of your hand to reach in his pocket. “What are you doing?” you asked, then you paused.

He’d slotted a ring on your finger.

“You can say no,” he said, looking you directly in the eye. "You can take it off. But it feels right for me. I saw it in the window the other day and I didn’t even think, I just bought it. Which is crazy, because you know I overthink and overplan everything.”

“I know, you’re a dork,” you smiled, but your eyes were glassy. “Why the fuck would I say no? Of course I’ll marry you.”

Seungmin breathed out and pulled you in a tight embrace. He felt warm, he smelled like coffee, and the skin of his neck was soft against your cheek. “I’m glad, because I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.”

“I’m only doing it for the strawberry matcha, of course,” you quipped, chuckling.

“I’m only doing it out of pity,” he added.

“Dickhead.”

“Asshole.”

You leaned against him, his arms around your waist. He kissed your cheek, your forehead, your shoulder, and you rubbed his back. A buzz went off in his back pocket, a reminder that his break was over.

“So,” he broke the hug, rubbing the back of his neck. “Your drink’s probably cold. So I guess, as a good barista, and now a good fiance, I probably have to make you a new one.”

“I’m gonna make out with you for hours tonight, Kim Seungmin,” you declared. “You’re my dream boy.” You blew him a kiss as he stood up, taking your drink with him, and he winked in return.

You watched his reflection on the steel coffee machine, and saw him smile.

[whatislovevavy]

Vending Machine Glow on Route 79

Jake Seresin x afab!reader

WC: 2.1k

Masterlist

Summary: Before leaving for college, you and Jake say goodbye in more ways than one on the last night of your cruel summer. 

Warnings: swearing smut (18+), angst, lots of feelings, friends to lovers to almost strangers, both reader and Jake are 18 and over.

AN: This fic is heavily inspired by Taylor Swift’s Cruel Summer. It’s been on my mind for a few months and I finally had the time and creativity to write it :) I hope you guys enjoy :)

All of my writings will be added to my writing side blog @sophs-writing-nook 

These characters are obviously not my own. This is an 18+ fanfic, so minors scoot pls. You are responsible for the media you consume. Do not copy, plagiarize, repost, or translate this fic without my explicit permission as it is my own creation. 

“What time do you have to leave tomorrow?”  

You said as you stared at the ceiling, laying on the cheap motel mattress with Jake, bare beneath the sheets. You didn’t have to ask him what time. You were mentally counting down the seconds till your best friend was leaving you. 

Your first love was leaving you. 

Jake was set to leave for Annapolis in the morning, and you were set for UT Austin in the Fall for journalism. 

“7 AM.” 

His tone lacked the usual joy and cockiness he’d started to develop in highschool. He gently reached out for your hand, running his calloused thumb along the back of it. You gently reached out to cuddle into his side. 

“I’m going to miss you.” 

Your voice choked in your throat, shifting your gaze to Jake Seresin, the farm boy next door who you’d known since you could run. The boy you used to sneak out into the fields and woods to look for frogs and snakes with. The once lanky, awkward teenage boy with braces who used knock on your screen door unannounced, now filled out his highschool football and baseball jersey and had girls batting their eyes at him. 

“I’m going to miss you too, Mooney.”

The nickname always made you smile. One summer during 8th grade, you and Jake had tried to make moonshine in the back of the Seresin farmhouse from some of the ripe strawberries on your family's farm. To say the least, you were far from successful and were both grounded for 2 months. 

But it was one of your most cherished memories with Jake. That, and sneaking off with each of your horses to go swimming in dagger lake in the hot summer months during chore time. The cherished nickname now just made the tears harder to hold back.

“Hey,” Jake soothed, “I’m here, Mooney, I'm here. I'm right here with you.” Your glassy eyes peaked up, meeting his kind, soothing ones. The pad of his thumb gently wiped away your tears. 

You sighed as he gently pulled your lips in for a soft, loving kiss. His hands clutched at your bare hips, rolling you underneath him. He sighed as your nails gently caressed and scratched at his neck and back of his head.

You tried to memorize the way his plush lips felt against your own. After all, you didn't know when you would get to feel them again. 

Jake didn't hurry with his efforts as he clutched at and caressed the slopes and edges of your body he'd always loved. 

Your soft sighs spurred him on, lathing kisses at your neck down to your breasts and areolas, your nipples taut from the friction against Jake's chest and the steady flow of chilled air from the humming AC unit in the corner.

Soft moans left your lips as he gently teased two fingers at your entrance, savoring the feeling of your silken walls around his welcomed digits. Eyes fluttering closed, fingers weaving into his hair as he gently, lovingly worked you towards your release, letting his calloused fingertips run along that extraordinary little spot that had you seeing the familiar, pretty shade of green behind your eyelids. 

He let you come down from your high, littering your lips and neck with tender kisses, like he was trying to memorize the way your skin felt against him. 

You clutched your nails into the back of his neck and flexed shoulders as he eased his cock between your smooth, soft folds, like the love-worn pages of a book that Jake couldn't get enough of. 

“Jake.”

Your sighs made his heart clench and belly stir. 

His hips moving in slow tandem with your own. Each clench of your plush walls made him moan softly, his nose running along the column of your neck, almost as if trying to memorize the soft smell of strawberries that always followed you. 

His hips moved in an uneven tempo, his release tailing your own. The soft whimpers and sighs leaving your perfectly parted lips made it more difficult to keep his pace in check. 

Your hips sputtered underneath him, thighs twitching around his lean waist. His lips crashed against yours as he felt you clutch desperately at his waist and shoulders, your release coming into the world with a cry of his name and a shudder. 

His release followed suit; his body, soul and mind lost in the feeling of you. 

Two people trying to make it in this world, intertwined as one. 

He let his forehead softly rest against your own, breaths weaving together against the cheap sheets of the motel. 

You pouted when he untangled himself from you, turning on the golden light of the bathroom to grab a washcloth. Softly smiling as he gently, lovingly wiped at your tender folds.

He always took care of you after your times together. 

But this time felt different. Off. 

The way he looked at you. He acted as if it was the last time he was going to. Like he was saying goodbye with each tender, soft touch of your body and lips. 

Your eyebrows furrowed, trying to keep your bubbling anxiety at bay. 

“Why do you keep looking at me like that ?”

His eyes didn't meet yours, instead focusing on the warm feeling of the washcloth on his palm as he continued to gently rub at your inner thighs. 

Your hand stalled his movements. 

“Jake?”

His eyes met yours. But they weren't bright or as mirthful as they had always been; they were glassy and distant.

Your heart beat was quickening by the second. 

“Please talk to me.” 

His heart clenched at your plea. He knew this was going to be one of the most difficult things he'd ever have to do in his life. 

A beat of tense silence passed. 

You swallowed, trying to lighten your tone. “you're acting like this is goodbye…forever.”

He swallowed, feeling tears brimming. 

“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Mooney.” He said it so softly that if you were anywhere else, you most likely wouldn't have heard him. 

Your heart stopped and increased in density by a thousand fold. The once lively organ now consuming the life force of everything within its vicinity, your fingertips tingling. 

“I just- with the Navy and everything, and you know how my dad is. I can't come back.” His desperate tone tried to plea a winning case for why this couldn't work. 

“And long distance doesn't work out for a lot of people.” He said softly, tears falling freely now. 

Your lip quivered, body retracting from his once welcoming, warm touch. 

“So you don’t even want to try?” 

The mix of anger and sadness felt so foreign being made from something Jake did. 

He put his face in his hands, shaking it. “I don’t know, Mooney. I just don’t know.” 

You watched with parted lips, trying to find the words to say with the tears budding in your eyes like the strawberry bushes Jake would help you tend to on your family’s farm. 

“It shouldn't be this hard for you to decide what you want with me!” You borderline shouted, frustration mixing with agony like a potent toxin in your soul.

"I thought you loved me?" your wounded, defeated tone made Jake's heart clench. If you weren't so devastated, you would have caught the flinch from the boy in front of you. You knew Jake wanted to be a pilot, more than anything in the world.

But you didn’t think it would cost what you had with him. 

“I need some air, I hope you find what you're looking for because clearly you aren't going to find it with me,” you rasped out, voice thick with emotion, staggering to your feet, finding your clothes littered on the floor, and hastily putting them on.

You half expected the boy that learned to have a response for anything to say something. Anything. 

Stay.

I’m scared, too.

I love you. 

We can figure this out, together. 

But he remained silent as you slammed the door closed behind you; pleading, teary eyes following your body leave behind the cheap wooden door. He didn't even try to stop you. You hurried down the steps to the first level, finding a quiet area near the vending machines and their inviting glow, under the full moon and stars. 

You leaned against the side of the machine, looking at all the near expired, wrapped goodies inside. All the goodies that Jake would have gladly shared with you. Now you weren’t so sure they meant anything. The familiar bubble of anguish and frustration became too much. You couldn’t hold it in any longer. 

And so you cried. 

You cried for the impending loss of the boy down the dirt road. You cried for the unfairness of your too separate dreams and what would feel like a million miles separating the two of you. You cried for the stark differences in both of your lives that made itself into a wedge between you both. 

But most of all, you cried for the trying times that he didn’t want to try to fight for. 

The ring of the bell above the glass door barely announced your presence to the packed bar. You had needed a break after unpacking the last box in your new home, and if you were going to be living in America’s Finest City, you should at least try to make some new friends. Afterall, you started work at the San Diego Tribune on Monday.

You drew your attention from the packed bar to the woman taking your order at the bar top, with her kind hazel, green eyes and shoulder length brunette hair. She couldn’t have been a day after 40. 

“A rum and coke, please?”

She gave you a nod and kind smile before turning to prepare your drink. Rum and Cokes became your go to during college. Nobody sold strawberry moonshine where you settled.

It wouldn’t taste the same anyway. 

Your eyes drew to the sea of people near the back deck and around the pool tables. The sea of beige military uniforms made your lip quirk. 

Did he ever make it to flight school?

Your chest tightened at the memory of how things ended, and the realization that you hadn’t spoken in almost 15 years. Not since he was set to leave for Annapolis; you didn't show up to see him off, watching his dusty, red truck leave you as he drove away on the dirt road of his family’s ranch from your bedroom window.  The last remnant of him evaporating into the dust his tires kicked up as he left. 

Memories of a simpler time swirled in your mind like the drink in your hand. 

Your ears perked up at the steady bass playing through the speakers. 

Foghat’s "Slow Ride".

Memories of laughter and secret kisses with the farmboy down the road, whose dreams were too big for Texas. 

Too big for you. 

Your lip quirked into a frown as you sighed, taking a drink, eyes drifting to the jukebox in the corner of the bar. A well-built man leaned against it, obviously hitting on the girl with the miniskirt and tank top to his left. From where you sat, you could only make out the blush on the girl’s cheeks, not the identity of the man behind the flirtations. He looked handsome; his strong shoulders, buzzed brunette blond hair at the base of his neck. 

Jake’s hair used to gleam the same way. 

You took a drink from your glass just as the man turned around. To walk to the bar top with the girl in tow. The burning liquid stalling in your throat, your stomach clenching as his features registered. He looked older now, brow lines evident. Definitely taller and more well built than when you saw him leave. He hadn't lost that charming smile, or his handsome green eyes, or the small cluster of freckles on his neck line. Your lip quirked with a wave of intense nostalgia. 

The girl that looked like she was in her mid to late twenties settled at the bar top, separating you from the man that you hadn’t seen or touched since the motel on route 79.

His eyes focused on her, giving her the same dimple-lidden smile you loved seeing in the hayloft during thunderstorms when you both wanted to get away from your families. 

She turned towards the bartender to place her drink order. His gaze flitted from hers to Penny’s. His eyes do a double take on yours. 

His posture straightened, lips parting, eyes staying on yours. Your eyes were held in a trance, placing your glass on the bar top. Before you had time to say anything, years of memories and missed memories took control.  

“Mooney?”

@marvel-hotchner @nemesis729 @a-lil-bit-nuts @mizzzpink @themusingofagothicsoul @sebsxphia @potato-girl99981 @a-beaverhausen @withahappyrefrain @hangmans-wingman @callmemana @joalslibrary @peachiicherries @whiskeyswriting @entertainmentgirl80 @jkbindigo11 @princess76179 @clancycucumber230 @teacupsandtopgun @chaoticassidy @superskittles @cherrycola27 @cheekymcgrath-deactivated202410 @h-ngm-ns @emma8895eb @djs8891 @novastories @urmom-999 @taytaylala12 @zombicupcake3 @abaker74 @kmc1989 @hangmanshoney @caidi-paris @i-wanna-be-your-muse @shara-ne @memeorydotcom @memoriesat30 @shanimallina87 @whoeverineedtobe @gigisimsonmars @slippinginto-theairwaves @phoenix-rising-starbird-one

[workingbynyx]

heey, saw that you were open for requests so I would like to ask for a romcom jason todd x reader where the reader is flirty and has a crush on Red Hood, but has no idea that he is Jason Todd (their regular at the cafe they own) so he gets kinda flustered everytime he sees the reader when he is going to get coffee

(hope you can understand this, english is not my first language)

Beautiful Stranger — Jason Todd x GN!Reader

↷ summary — after a faithful encounter with red hood one night ago, you quickly developed a crush on the masked vigilante. but, would you believe if the cute regular at your coffee shop was him? ˎˊ˗

↷ pairing — jason todd x gn!reader ˎˊ˗

↷ genre — romance, comedy, a bunch of fluff ˎˊ˗

↷ warning/s — none! other than a few curse words, use of y/n and possible grammar errors ˎˊ˗

↷ a/n — hi anon! dw i LOVEEEE that request sm, i hope you have fun reading this as much as i had writing it ^^ i might've switched it up a bit in the process so i'm so sorry for that 😭 i also figured i'd use the wayne family adventures version of jason for this one since it kinda fits the whole theme of this fic hihi and he turned into such a simp in this so it might be ooc at some point help, enjoy reading! ˎˊ˗

"what the hell are you doing here walkin' around late at night?" the masked man said in between short breaths after taking down a robber that's been following you since you closed down the café for tonight. you were lucky enough to have 'the' red hood on patrol and save you from a potential robbery. the thought of him guiding, if not stalking, you and jumping on the thug as soon as he's about to make a move somehow made your heart skip at the act of service...if its even counted with them now laying on the ground unconscious.

what you didn't know is this man was jason, the regular you'd have come in around 9 to 10 am to have his morning coffee and sit around the shop until lunch. you always observed the guy to be somewhat mysterious but endearing at the same time, he'd always ask for the same coffee and pastry combo over and over again, not bothering to change his order. he became quite an easy customer to remember at some point, other than the fact that he had white streaked hair which made him attractive and memorable to you. in fact, everytime he came in all you had to do was ask "the usual?" and jason'll nod along then go back to his corner, mouthing a silent 'thank you' when you deliver his treat and maybe even strike up a conversation if he's in the mood.

but right now, jason is simply the infamous masked red vigilante who just kicked some ass for your own sake.

"my apartment is this way, how was i supposed to know robbers lurked around here" you replied in return, tucking in one of your hands inside the pocket of your coat as you froze in front of him. jason began approaching you and stopped when you came face to face, the height difference between the two of you forced you to tilt your head upwards— the all-white lens of his helmet staring down at you. "watch the news, its not safe out here. take the route to your right next time, and bring at least a pepper spray with you" if only his mask didn't have a built in voice changer you would've known seconds ago it's him.

you were stunned for a moment as he listed down things that'd probably go straight out your other ear. "y'know, for someone i just met you're oddly protective over me" you finally spoke, a hint of mischief underlying your tone. that's when you begun wondering who is it under that costume. is he cute? is he what you're imagining him to be like?

jason, on the other hand, blinked a couple times out of confusion if it weren't for his get up covering his entire features. "what?" he said. "nothing, it's just...i didn't think a vigilante would care so much for a civilian like me" you answered, an innocent smile creeping up your lips like an idiot in love. "its my job. obviously i should look out for the people of Gotham, shouldn't i?" he crossed his arms across his chest, covering the red insignia of his bulletproof suit.

"obviously, i guess i didn't have the special treatment like i thought" you practically said with a slight pout forming when you look up to him, going silent for a moment. "do you really tell all the people you save to bring pepper spray or just me? i wanna know if i got the special advisory from you at least" you added as a tease, earning a slight frustrated groan from jason afterwards. "i don't have time for this—" "well I do" you bravely chimed in without missing a beat. "i got all night even"

the sigh jason had let out was almost comical, he took a step backward when it's really just him starting to get flustered by his barista seemingly flirting with his other identity, who would've thought you'd find him attractive? not jason that's for sure. "get home safe, take the route i told you if you wanna keep your wallet stocked" then he noticed the small cut on your cheekbone, it must've been from the pocket knife the thug had.

he briefly pointed at it, "you got something" you lifted your fingers to search for it only to be met with a slight sting when you did, a small amount of blood staining your index finger. you hissed at the feeling, squinting your eye when it lingered for a bit. "calm down, its not that serious" jason said. "some alcohol and bandaid should do the trick" and you took his advice, you certainly wouldn't allow yourself to show up at work with a random cut to your face.

"y'know why don't you help and patch me up at this point? i could use some assistance" and you still had the nerve to decide and toy around with him for a bit...to see how far the both of you are willing to go. to be fair, you just wanted to know who was it under that mask— this could potentially lead to it if you're lucky. "what are you, 8?" jason replied. "no but i'm surely a 10" you winked playfully, the corner of your lip turning into a smirk as you watched his body language intently.

"jesus christ.." jason muttered under his breath, starting to walk away from this situation he's stuck in. "aw c'mon! that was a smooth line admit it! oh okay— well, thank you red..man! i'll see you soon...i think" you yelled from the same position you're in, seeing his tall frame go farther in the distance. jason didn't say nothing in return, but he kept a secret smile under his mask as he disappeared from sight.

its been a couple weeks since your last encounter with red hood, you took most of his suggestions that night and started going the safer route when you had to be on the closing shift. since then, you've been at the lower risk of getting robbed again thanks to him and his unforgettable presence. but it's not only you who hasn't stopped thinking about that night, jason was still trying to relive the moment of his barista basically flirting with him. he figured you would've known it's him within seconds...guess not.

it didn't bother him, it's the thought of your reaction to him being behind the helmet is what. jason wouldn't blame you though, imagine how shocking it would be to find out your regular is a vigilante at night. it's like betrayal but in a different form. he usually doesn't care about revealing his identity to the people he knows, but when it came to you it's different. he's conscious for the first time, he was overthinking things and coming up with plans how to avoid it from happening in many ways possible so he stopped visiting the shop for a while. it's becoming weird, you two weren't even close to begin with— so why was he stressing so much about it?

while jason spent most of his nights in Gotham thinking about you, you started noticing his frequent visits slowly turned little to nothing at all. you found yourself always anticipating the sound of the bell when the doors open to each customer only to be met with disappointment when he didn't come through. and today seems to be the same, you kept glancing over the glass doors hoping you'd see a tall, slightly scary and muscular man enter...until he finally did.

you feel your heart skip a beat seeing him after a while, the same feeling you got a couple nights ago but you didn't mind. you quickly went over the cashier, mentally ready to take his order with a smile. "hey! welcome back, i didn't see you in here for a while" you greeted when he stopped right at the counter. jason wore a red hoodie and a brown leather jacket layering over it, he must've liked wearing that a lot. "oh...uh yeah," he brought a hand up to rub the back of his neck, trying to come up with something. "i got caught up in work. i didn't have the time to stop buy for coffee" that's a lie. "but i'm here now" is he really?

"oh, you must've been really busy then?" you added, listening to his reason. "definitely yeah," lies once again. jason sucked in a breath, looking away to get a glimpse of the menu like he really is getting anything else other than an americano and cookies. "got anything new f'me?" he asked which took you by surprise. "you're not getting the usual anymore?" you said. "eh well, it gets old after a while" he says.

"that's fair, well we got new cake flavors if you wanna try them out. what would you like?" you then tap a few things into the register to input his order to which he asks for a latte and dark chocolate cake. you tell him his total and he pays for it, giving him his change and receipt. jason mouths a thank you and quickly goes to sit on one of the chairs by the window where you can still see him right in the corner of your eye, you catch him glancing at your direction while you made his coffee which is strange since he never did that.

jason on the other hand seems to be more fidgety, he figured he'd tell you the truth today after you get off of work but it's easier said than done as he's starting to think it was a bad idea. his frequent visits gave him the advantage to eventually learn about your schedule and today happens to be an early leave. he mentally hyped himself up, hunched over the chair with his elbows resting on both his thighs while he waited.

a few minutes passed by and you eventually finished making everything, putting the small plate and fork on a plate along with his drink as you brought it over to his table. you slightly crouched down to carefully place the plate in front of him followed by the drink and fork, jason waited til you were done and looked up to you. he notices the cut still there on the side of your cheek, seemingly in the healing process now. he cleared his throat and nudged his head toward you. "you alright? you got a slit right there" he started.

"hm? oh this. it's uh, it's nothing. i almost got mugged a few nights ago and had to hold up a pretty decent fight" you explained, clutching the tray near to your chest. "oh? well, did you win at least?" jason laid back into the chair, still looking up towards you to see if you'll mention about the 'hero' that saved you. "i guess in some way yeah, someone showed up and kicked some ass within seconds" you said, a smile slowly forming at the thought of red hood creeping your mind once again. "it's a shame i didn't get his name though, he seems like a nice guy"

"...who did you think it was?" jason started, a lump in his throat started forming the more the conversation went on. he waited for an answer, desperate to know what you think and what could be the reason why you did all that during that night. "i have no clue, but he had a red helmet and a pretty sick suit! i'm not a fan of vigilante but that dude's doing it for me. i wanted to ask him out but he looks out of it, he might've been tired so i don't blame him" a slight blush creeped into jason's cheek when he felt it heat up at what you said, he found it amusing that you were practically talking about him while having no idea at the same time.

"that's..that's great" he nodded along, clearing his throat once more as he focused on the food in front of him then back to you. "i uh, i also wanted to ask" your ears perked up at this, pursing your lips into a thin smile. "what time are you...getting off?" he finally says even if he already knew the answer. you were taken back by this, your brows raising at the sudden question. "oh uhm, probably in an hour or so. i have an early leave today so it might be even less than that" you started. "why'd you ask?"

"i..." his voice trailed off, he doesn't seem to get the words out without it sounding like he's asking you out— well, technically he is. "nothing, just curious that's all" he gave a stiff smile as he reached for his fork. "oh okay well, i'll be at the counter if you need me" you said with a smile as you walked away before one of your managers yell at you again for making unneccessary small talk.

jason waited until you went back before releasing a disappointed sigh at himself, he sets down the fork and covered his face with both of his hands— feeling embarrassed at how stupid he sounds asking the question and completely fumbling it over. 'you just had to fuck it up, did you?' he thought to himself. he's never gonna get this over with.

a few minutes passed by and you see jason finishing up his snack, the small plate of cake now left with smudges of frosting and small bits of crumbs and the cup of coffee almost emptied out. you were relieved that he liked the new menu item after months of eating the same thing, it might be the start of something new for him you think. although his question from earlier never left your mind, you tried searching for answers and it all came down to him possibly asking you out.

but why would he? he's way out of your league and he probably knows it, why would he lower his standards to a café worker when he could have anyone out there to go on dates with. was he messing with you or is he trying to give signals? it could explain why he always visited your café and not the famous ones in the city but still, you didn't wanna assume. maybe he's just trying to be friends.

you didn't even realize that jason was already standing on the other side of the counter while you were lost in your thoughts doing the dishes, you heard him call out to you which snapped you out of it. you turn to look behind and see him there with a sheepish smile. you quickly closed the faucet and wiped your hands off as you went up to him, "hey! what's up?"

"nothing, i just wanted to say i'm gonna get going. i still have a few things to catch up on back home" "oh that's fine! goodluck with whatever you're up to then" you cheered him on aa he slightly chuckled, the sound of hearing his laughter for the first time did something to you and you didn't know what it was that made it so attractive. "thanks, i'll see you around" jason finally says with a thin smile.

you waved goodbye and went back to what you're doing as you're trying to shake off the lingering feeling that you just felt, "and y/n" you heard him call out to you again. "make good use of the spray, that's a special advisory" jason said proudly, making his way out of the shop before you could even process what he said

"thank you! I'll ma— wait..." then it finally registered. "WHAT?!"

[wanderingsoul6261]

I'm Here Now

Credit for gif goes to mauraeyk

James Beaufort x Reader

synopsis: follows the plot of a few requests, mostly pregnancy, angst, etc. In this one, Reader finds out she is pregnant. She tells James and he gets cold feet. Events in this fix are probably unlikely, but Y/N had been understanding, considering who his parents were. And then they meet several years later.

warnings: none, I don't think? If I'm wrong, please let me know and I can change it. My brain isn't working right now.

expect two more within the next 24 to 48 hours.

-------

The plastic stick stared hauntingly at her. This was it. The next nine months of her life and everything that came after, already laid for her. Ultimately, she had a different route, but she couldn’t do it. She would never do it. 

Her parents stood in the doorway of the bathroom. Silence filled the air and Y/N felt like she could suffocate in it. She picked at her fingernails, her eyes on the floor, looking everywhere but at her parents. It was already known how disappointed they were in her. How they had expected and hoped that she would get through the first few of her life after Maxton Hall before anything like this happened. She knew that they hoped that she would get through college and make a life for herself. 

But here it was, all thrown back in their faces. And it wasn’t just her parents. Y/N expected something completely different, and this was definitely not it. 

“Does he know?” Her mother finally spoke, breaking the silence. Y/N casted her eyes briefly in her parents direction. Her father leaned against the door frame, a hand on the bottom half of his face, and her mother stood a few steps closer, her eyes focusing solely on the pregnancy test. 

Y/N was silent for several seconds. 

“No.” She averted her eyes back to the ground in front of her. “He doesn’t” 

“Do you plan on telling him?” Her eyes snapped her father this time, who now stared back directly at her. 

“Yea. I just don’t know how. It’s not exactly an easy subject to talk about. Especially at your ages.” 

“It’s definitely the right thing to do.” He agreed. Her father let out a heavy sigh. “But… you might not like the response and actions that he might have.” Her mother nodded.

“This will be just as hard for him as it is for you at this moment.” 

“And you’re sure you want to keep the child?” She had been asked this question twice already minutes before. Y/N turned her gaze back to the ground, swallowing thickly as thoughts ran through her mind. 

“Because if not, we can pull some strings, and-” 

“Stop.” Y/N cut her father off, and he went silent. He had almost surprisingly looked dejected, and it was likely genuine. Y/N should have known. Her parents weren’t like other parents of rich kids. They meant well and actually cared for her well being. She knew that no matter what she decided to do, they would have her back no matter what. “I’m sorry.” She apologized. “But yea, I’d like to keep the child.” 

—

“What?” James was pale, and if Y/N hadn’t known any better, she would have thought him to be sick. She swallowed thickly, picking at her fingernails, a nervous habit of hers. He had seen and slapped her hands, telling her to stop it. Then he took a step back. 

She stared at him. James had obviously not liked the news, shock and fear written all over his face. Y/N had been scared that this was going to happen. In fact, she had almost expected it. But she had been surprised when he still showed enough care to stop her from picking at her fingers until they bled. 

Maybe there was a potential for hope. 

“I’m pregnant.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. 

“Mine?” She nodded. 

“Yours.” James mumbled under his breath. Y/N watched as he paced back and forth in front of the pool. Y/N watched him, growing slightly more stressed with each stride he took. Her eyes followed his feet, repeating her mannerisms from the other night. She refused to look in his face. She had let so many people down by allowing this to happen, and in the end, she still wasn’t sure what she would lose or keep. “Can you stop pacing please?” Y/N asked quietly. “You’re stressing me out.” 

“Stressing you out-” James paused, finally stopping to stare at Y/N. She had shrunk into herself and despite his attempt at stopping her from picking at her fingers, she still continued to do so. His breath got caught in his throat. What was he to do? His parents, especially his father, would not allow this. He would see it as a scandal and do everything in his power to separate Y/N from him and keep it that way. 

James had to do something first. 

He stopped his pacing, and sat on the opposite end of the bench that she sat on. James hunched forward, running his hand down his face as he ran through different possibilities in his mind. 

“You don’t want this right now, do you?” Y/N asked. His head whipped up and towards her. She was staring at him, tears pricking the corner of her eyes. James opened his mouth, trying to think of something to say, willing himself to say anything, but nothing came. He closed his mouth, but kept eye contact with her. Y/N searched his eyes for anything, anything that might tell her what exactly it was that he wanted. 

“I don’t know.” He finally said. 

Even if it wasn’t a definitive answer, those three words still punched a hole in Y/N’s stomach. She swallowed thickly, turning her head away from him and looked towards the pool. Her eyes flickered over the waving surface, suddenly interested in the way that the sun showed on the ripples created by the slight breeze, watching as the sun rays bounced off the bottom floor. 

“I mean. You have to understand, Y/N.” James went silent again for a few seconds. “This is a tough thing at our ages. And your parents might be more accommodating, but mine-” 

“Are you basing your decision off of what you want, or what they would want?” Y/N turned back to him. He didn’t even have to answer it. She knew the answer before he answered it himself. 

“Y/N, you know how my parents-” 

“And that’s enough to potentially think about walking away from me and your unborn child?” She asked. James went silent and averted his gaze. His eyes peered down at his shoes, taking note of the scuff and dirt marks that he had never really noticed until now. They were dirt and scuff marks that his father wouldn’t stand for. 

His father. 

He turned back to Y/N, who now had tears streaming down her face. A sigh escaped her lips and James was almost expecting more to come from her mouth. He had already felt bad enough that he was leaning more towards the thoughts of his father, but the more he thought about it, he was almost protecting her. If his father ever found out, he didn’t know what would happen. 

“I won’t be mad.” She finally spoke, and James was beyond surprised. He had indeed expected more from her. Not this. He didn’t expect her to be as understanding in this moment that she currently was being. A child was supposed to have their father in their lives. And this one wouldn’t. 

James was silent for several moments. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“No. I’m sorry.” Looking in her face, James knew she was being genuine. “I should have done more.” 

“No stop.” He said. “We both had a part to play in this.” 

And with that, both went silent. They remained on opposite ends of the bench, until enough time had passed and James had decided it was time to leave. He itched to hold her one last time, knowing that once he walked out of the front door, things were going to change. However, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. 

But she did. 

As he walked by her, she grabbed his hand, staring up at him. He stared down at her, but couldn’t offer her a smile, not that she had one to give back.

“Can I find you in a few years?” He asked. ‘When I don’t have to answer to my father?,’ he almost wanted to say, but he stayed silent. 

“Maybe.” Her heart broke some more. 

And then he was gone. 

—--

After finding out that she was pregnant, Y/N had opted to continue her classwork remotely, only making visits to Maxton Hall in the first few months of her pregnancy. After she started showing, she had stopped, not wanting to raise questions or a potential scandal amongst the students there. 

When the children were born, Y/N knew that things would be okay. 

Twins. She had twins, and the only thing that she could think of were the Beauforts. A boy and a girl. The baby girl definitely had the looks of James more than the baby boy did. Y/N figured that she might be the troublemaker of the two in the coming years. The baby boy was quiet and good, the opposite of his sister, which was ironic, considering it was the other way around for both Lydia and James. 

Raising the twins though had actually been easier than she expected, especially with the help of her parents. Certain moments had been a bit tougher, like when Y/N had to take them in for vaccinations and doctor appointments. Listening to them cry their little hearts out because of being poked had broken her own heart. Many moments, she had wished that James was around to witness his kids grow up into the young children they were growing up to be. 

Even as they grew up, even if James wasn’t there, she still acted as if he was. Y/N told the kids stories about their father and what he was like. After all this time, she still loved him.She loved him enough that she wished that he had been around to witness their first steps, to experience their first words, etc. In general, Y/N had just wished that he was there. 

Especially now, walking through the park. The twins were a little over the age of four. They stomped around Y/N, giggling and laughing. They brought a smile to her face, making her happy when she thought that things were turning for the worst. She now knew that things weren’t going to turn out as bad as she had expected the day she found out she was pregnant. 

She came back to earth after hearing one of her kids let out a surprised shout. Y/N looked around, seeing her son on the ground, seemingly unhurt and okay. D/N had hurried over in an attempt to help him up, but the man S/N had ran into had helped him up first. 

“Sorry kiddo. Didn’t see you.” The man looked up and around, seeing Y/N. 

Her world stopped at that very moment, for the man that stood before her, she never expected to see again. 

“James.” 

“Y/N” The two a few feet apart and S/N and D/N were now next to their mother. James had already put two and two together, his eyes now focused on his kids. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing was spoken. His eyes moved to look at Y/N, who only smiled softly at him. It almost seemed sad. 

“What are you doing here?” He finally asked. 

“On a walk with the kids. Wanted to give mom and dad some peace and quiet.” Y/N explained. “What about you?” she asked. 

“I was just at a business meeting. I decided to cut through the park to get to my car.” His eyes were focused back on the kids, who stared up at him with large eyes. They hid partially behind Y/N. He could definitely see himself in both of them. 

“What are their names?” 

“D/N and S/N” Their names rolled off James tongue easily. Y/N followed his gaze to the kids, before shooing them away. “How about you two go play on the slide? I’m right here, I’ll be watching you.” The two ran off towards the slide without any hesitation, their giggles could be heard as they raced. 

“How are they?” he asked, watching their movement. Y/N watched James, taking in his appearance. He really hadn’t changed much. James still looked like himself. 

“They are good kids. Healthy. Take after us, that’s for sure.” She laughed a little, took a step closer to James as they now both watched the kids. 

“Do they know about me?” 

“Yea.” Y/N spoke softly. “I tell them stories about you. From school, what you’re like, just a bunch of things about you.” She said, “They’ve been coming up with their own questions lately.” James turned his attention to her. His eyes trailed over her form, taking her in, before looking back at the kids. 

“Like what?” He hesitated in looking back at her, before finally turning his head back towards her, but their eyes didn’t meet. She watched her children, a sad look in her eyes. Like she wanted to give them so much more than they already had in that moment. “Y/N.” She turned to him. 

“Hmm?”

“Would you be mad or upset with me now, if I asked if I could be in their lives?” he asked. Her smile looked a little less sad. 

“Never. You have every right to be in their lives. I can tell you right now that they want you in their lives. I can guarantee it.” Y/N turned to face him. “We can do whatever works. We can set up visitation times. Or you can take them whenever you want. We can work something out.” James nodded along, listening to her and the suggestions. He was silent for several seconds, and he knew that she was waiting for something from him. 

“Could we, maybe. Perhaps…could we try things over again?” Her smile seemed even brighter. 

“I think so.” She said softly. “I understood why you didn’t want anything at first. Yea, it took some time to adjust and get used to. I missed you terribly, but I want to work on things, especially between us. And that’s not only for us, but for them.” The two turned their attention back to the kids, who were running around, their high pitched giggles filling the air as they laughed. 

By the end of the night, after being invited for dinner with Y/N, her kids, and her parents, James had started to wedge himself back into their lives. His son and daughter were latched to him, never really letting him out of their sight. They told him everything that they could, as James stared at them, love apparent in his eyes and he listened to what they had to say. 

This was it. This is what he wanted. After everything that he already had, this was it. 

And as he looked up and his eyes found Y/N’s, already staring at him with the kids, and he had seen the smile she had adorned her face, he knew already that he was willing to give up anything to keep this. 

And she would let him. 

------

@sillyfreakfanparty @honethatty12 @lifeonawhim @ashamedtobewhitemanswhore27 @maryvibess @wheredidmyeyesgo @imasimptoowth @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @benbarnesprettygurl

[fantasy-anatomy-analyst]

Making Humanoids Less Human

I did make a small post on this, but now I've got the art for a much bigger and more detailed post! so here we go.

I had several anonymous asks that all came in quick succession weeks ago. Every single one of them was basically just a variation on "how would you take (typically humanoid) fantasy being, and make them look less human?"

This blog does not exist for me to just give people original designs for free, my goal is to show off my own personal thoughts about fantasy design and help people figure out how to adjust their own designs to fit their vision better. That means when people ask me questions about how to do something, I want to give them things to think about so they can come to their own conclusion. I don't mind making original designs to illustrate concepts, but a whole flood of "show me how to make this specific thing look different" all at once like that was too much. I'm not answering them all individually, it's just not what I want to do.

But what I can do is show my own thoughts and ideas about how to take any fantasy design and push it further away from "human", and you all can look at my ideas and figure out your own way to do things!

So here are the main 4 methods I've come up with to make humanoids look less human.

(image description: a simplified drawing of a humanoid face surrounded by four altered versions of the same face. clockwise starting from the top left, they are:

Speculative, drawn as a cat person. Additive, drawn with horns, pointy ears, sharp teeth, and a second pair of eyes. Subtractive, drawn with blank eyes, no nose, and no eyebrows. Exaggerative, drawn with a long face and huge eyes, as well as a wide mouth, narrow nose, and big ears.

end description)

I am personally a fan of the speculative route, which means exploring an alternate root of evolution to create a new design. Through this method, I've created monkey elves, frog goblins, and pig orcs.

the additive option is the most common, I think. adding new feature or doubled features to a humanoid form is a very intuitive way to change the design and make it look less human. you see this in most fantasy and scifi designs, like star trek aliens and the dnd player races.

subtractive and evaggerative are the most common options for people that like the uncanny valley. it's really easy to make uncomfortable designs by removing or exaggerating recognizable features, and they're often used together. Slenderman, for example, removes all facial features and skin color but also exaggerates the limbs and body.

Combining the four methods will give you a really interesting design as well! So for practice I decided to explore an alternate design for Tieflings, the part-demon player race in dnd.

(image description: four examples of differnt tiefling designs using the previously described methods. the additive example is just offical dnd art of a tiefling woman with purple skin, horns, and a long tail.

the subtractive sketch looks very alien, with a bald head, empty eyes, and no other facial featuers aside from a small mouth. it has three fingers per hand and two toe per foot.

the exaggerative sketch shows a hunched humanoid figure with huge eyes and big ears. the neck, limbs, and digits are all long with claws at the ends of the fingers and toes, and the limbs are also quite muscular.

the speculative sketch shows a bipedal figure with features similar to a giraffe, including a long neck, ossicones, and hooves.

end description)

now, because tielflings have such a distinct look to them, obviously my new sketches don't really look like tieflings, do they? the only one that comes close is the giraffe. relying only on one type of alteration to the human form has left the designs rather empty and lacking in the more iconic traits of the original concept. so i tried a sketch that combined my ideas! it came out looking like a completely different creature lol, like it could be a kobold or something, still not really a tiefling.

(image description: a sketch of a creature with a giraffe-like head, long tongue, and sharp teeth. it appears to be roaring at something and stands in a half-crouch. it has long limbs with hoof feet and clawed hands, as well as a long tufted tail curled behind it. end description.)

didn't work out. too far into the animal side of the speculative evolution, I think. so I tried again and got a design I liked much better!

(image description: a digital painting of a tiefling leaping back and casting a glowing orange spell. she is wearing a tunic with a corset and detached sleeves, as well as several pieces of jewelry. Her skin is purple with dark patches like a giraffe's spots, and she has a giraffe's ossicones as well as hoof-like hands and two-toed hoof feet. Her tail is long with a tuft at the end. She has glowing eyes and a flat nose, and there is a single sharp tooth visible poking out of the side of her mouth. end description.)

Brought the face back into slightly more human proportions and that helped a lot. Sometimes designs just take a few tries! that's normal.

and hopefully this is helpful to all of you! there are so many ways to alter humanoid designs to come up with something original and unique to you!

[bbina]

"took you guys long enough" sungchan comments, standing up from the hood of his car. he was waiting for a while at the convenience store you three always go to.

you let out a huff as you get out of the car. "tell that to this jackass over here who decided to take the longer route" you throw your thumb back at eunseok who was ranting about he didn't expect to run into a traffic jam caused by a car accident

shortly after arriving you three buy your usual stuff inside the convenience store before settling at the parking lot, just talking about sungchan's current dilemma

"she just suddenly broke it off with me today while on a date like?" sungchan starts, pausing to chew his ramen. you stare at him with wide eyes. so it is true, that he and yujin are now over. for good

"all i did was say hi to wonbin and y/n since we were in the same restaurant" sungchan continues, eyebrows beginning to furrow as he recalls what happened

eunseok lets out a chucke and pokes the side of your head, "so it's your fault why they broke up" he jokes

you felt yourself heat up. instantly, you smacked your older brother in the chest. eunseok makes an "oof" sound before choking on his food. sungchan panics and gives him his drink

"what the fuck, y/n?! take a joke!" eunseok manages to choke out

"you didn't cause the breakup, y/n" sungchan hurriedly says, afraid that you'd avoid him longer if you had the assumption that it was on you (when it kinda lowkey was because of you)

sungchan burps before continuing

"as i was saying, she always had a problem with y/n and i'm not really sure why? like obviously she's my best friend but she kept making weird assumptions between y/n and i"

your heart drops. did sungchan's girlfriend figure you out all along?

"why can't she understand that y/n is just a friend" eunseok scoffs, in disbelief that his girlfriend was that insecure of you, his sister

sungchan throws his hands up in the air to show his frustrations

"exactly! no matter how hard i reassure her that it's just platonic she just puts words into my mouth.." sungchan huffs. he suddenly turns to you with sad eyes

"i'm really sorry for what i said that night y/n. i didn't mean for it to sound like that. i just couldn't believe that you're with wonbin and you didn't tell me"

you held in your breath as you take in his apology. right, you were with wonbin. for a second there you forgot about your situation

"i can never stay mad at you forever, jinsu" you say with a small smile, leaning in for a hug. sungchan doesn't hesitate to wrap his arms around you. finally you have your best friend back

"hey! what about me!" eunseok complains as he engulfs you and sungchan into his embrace. you let out giggles as eunseok easily had you both in his arms. how you missed this, how you missed hanging out with the closest people around you.

between the lines ★ for my eyes only

⤷ from what started as a simple arrangement to hide your feelings for a certain someone by getting into in a fake relationship soon turns into a tangled mess. in which some things are hard to tell when you can’t read between the lines

 ˗ˏˋ prev | next  ˎˊ˗

★ notes .ᐟ double update like i said <3 anyway more drama 🤩

★ taglist .ᐟ @callanton @annswwa @renjuneoo @pinkraindropsfell @lecheugo @ilovejungwonandhaechan @ahnneyong @haechansbbg @snowyseungs @sseastar-main @odxrilove @leeknowarchives @onlywonb @wonychu @leehanascent @jaeyunsb @au-ghosttype @revehosh @keilovr @kyusqult @dreamyyyz @ether-yeol @yangasm @qwonbani @starwonb1n @ffixtionista @daegale @scrumptiousloser @seunghancore @marksluvs @wonbinfiles @ohmykwonsoonyoung @reenfluffmarshmallow @bunni @artstaeh @yizhoutv @sie17136 @koeuh @07yujin @poollabug

[zephyrins]

romanceable Raphael route

disclaimer: it's just my thoughts on what we can add to the current plot without ruining or completely rewriting it. I know that fanfics exist for this purpose but let me and Raphael enjoyers have some fun, I'm not asking the developers to actually add this so calm down haters

the first act is perfect. Raphael's introduction is 10\10 and I don't want to change a thing. BUT if you want to romance him you should play along with his little performance, humor him, and don't be rude!!

in the second act, he can appear after the defeat of Ketheric and congratulate us because we deserve to be praised by our favorite devil! if we roll persuasion (or something else idk) successfully he can tell us more about Orin and Gortash or the brain

the tastiest part starts in the third act, we have a lot of room for fantasy. but there are criteria we must meet:

sign his contract, obviously

no additional tadpoles in our brain

no to the Emperor

do not romance anyone (he would be disappointed, how can you like someone else when he is around?)

you can gift Raphael the Annals of Karsus and if his approval is high enough you can ask for something in exchange (maybe help with Karlach's heart or Wyll's dad?) ((but Gale will leave your company))

if you are a bard you can sing him a song (just because you can)

he would be very pleased if you would destroy Gortash's plans and return his stolen items. you will hear a monologue about how foolish the ambitions of mortals are and how Enver was doomed from the very beginning. maybe Raphael even give you something as your prize

you can ask him how to get rid of Mizora, but if his approval is very high he'll appear in your camp anyway and get rid of her by himself (because he's the only devil who can be around his mouse!!)

you can visit the House of Hope but DO NOT touch anything or you can say bye-bye to your romance. If you do everything correctly and have exceptional approval, you'll have a unique dialogue with Haarlep: they'll recognize you as their master's new favorite pet Raphael can't shut up about, but Haarlep is not allowed to have fun with you without Raphael

Korilla will give you a permanent pass to the House from Raphael and tell you he will be waiting for you later (I think here your imagination can go wild about what can happen on that rendezvous)

the ending

our promised dinner!! he will offer you to become his warlock but you can refuse: Raphael won't be mad, he will only laugh giving you more time to play with your freedom

well, thank you for visiting my delusional ted talk, see you later

[apostleofgreed]

My friend's thoughts on read Gideon the Ninth (she's doing audio book)... Spoilers obviously

Oh my God I'm less than an hour in and I'm sick of the word ass

The gals have just arrived at wherever it is they've gone to

Like it's taken 7 chapters to get the information of "I tried to run away, did not succeed, that Slag I hate who killed her parents wants me to be her guard dog, were off lets go"

I can't believe this bitch just said "yo"

Gideon is full cockney

"He had upsetting biceps" mood

I need you to know he's incredibly Welsh (regarding Magnus)

Yeah Magnus is my fave tbh I'm like just make the book about him

Oh what the fuck (Magnus died)

Are you joking me this is a travesty it's rude (Still Magnus)

I think I like Harrow because she's just unapologetically a bitch and Im here for that

70% of this book is everyone arguing

If they were that committed to killing like 200 other kids why not just... Stab her???

I'm like Gideon you just had a bath for the first time are you sure you wanna try the pool babygirl

Cause she sounds like she's old Gideon stop being a gentraphile (about Dulcinea)

I've been listening to this whole thing like weird flex that you fancy her but ok

(At this point she told me I'd need to give her the plot for the next two books as she wasn't invested enough to get them)

Nah I got like 2 hours left. More people have died and the CEO of the universe is en route

To be fair I'd be fuming if I was the emperor and I'd paid for all of my world rules to go on an all expenses paid trip to my second home and they all start dying for real and ruining the house

V glad Naberius Tern is dead

Oh lawd everyone really do be dying

"I want to die! Why was I born so attractive?" Is such a big mood

She has bought and finished Harrow. I'll collate her thoughts soon.

[self-loving-vampire]

what are the 12 categories of dungeon in your dungeon design document? i'm currently getting really into dungeon design so id like some help making my own document.

1- Abandoned dungeons.

These are abandoned/destroyed ruins whose original purpose is no longer being fulfilled. New creatures may have moved in, or maybe there's undead remnants of the previous inhabitants.

This could be something like an abandoned mine, a lost temple, etc.

These dungeons tend to not have a lot of active defenses, but may have a couple of lingering hazards or traps still around.

2- Occupied dungeons.

This is a dungeon actively serving as a base for a faction of organized, intelligent creatures. These may have traps in key locations (such as the exterior or whatever treasure vault they use) and may feature things like regular patrols and defensive plans if there is an alarm.

For example, this could be a hobgoblin war camp, an evil lord's castle, the hidden lair of a slavery ring, etc.

3- The Beast's Lair

This is a very small and simple dungeon type focused on serving as the lair of a special beast and whatever family it has (using single monsters in encounters if generally not the best idea). As an example, the lair of a vicious skincrawler dragon could go into this category.

That monster doesn't have to be the only encounter in the dungeon either, but is the obvious "boss".

4- The Haunted Dungeon

A haunted house, destroyed castle, ruined torture prison, or some other site of past death and misery that sees its tragic history continue even after the deaths of everyone involved. While these dungeons usually involve some monsters (primarily undead but oozes and vermin are still common) much of the danger comes from the lingering haunts that can give the players a glimpse of what happened to taint this place with evil.

5- The Natural Cave

A large cave system that isn't dominated by a singular overpowering monster. These generally don't have any traps at all, but may instead include natural hazards and obstacles to traversal such as underground rivers, climbs, and more. Usually there is a variety of wild creatures inhabiting it but intelligent individuals or groups may also have a place here.

6- The Vault

A dungeon designed to be a death trap meant to protect something (forbidden knowledge? legendary artifacts? a grand treasury?). These dungeons typically have more of a focus on traps and puzzles, but may also be protected by constructs, bound extradimensional beings, and undead depending on who built it and why.

7- The Tomb

A burial place in which the dead have risen. This is most often the result of necromancers but could be some other form of disturbance. The main focus here is obviously undead, but some may also protect their tombs with traps, curses, and constructs.

8- The Frontier Dungeon

A quirky type of dungeon set in extreme, often large locations. For example, a deep mine could break into the Darklands and lead to a whole second world existing under the one the characters know, or they could find themselves lost on an island populated by bizarre new creatures, and potentially allies who can tell them what is going on and help them survive.

This one obviously blurs the meaning of what a dungeon is a little, and depending on how it is designed it really could just be a wilderness adventure instead.

9- The Aquatic Dungeon

A dungeon that is mostly or completely underwater, presenting some inherent challenges. This could be anything from a shipwreck to a flooded sea cave or maybe a submerged temple from before the cataclysm that sank it.

10- Planar Dungeons

The varied and strange locations of the planes can make for great and unusual dungeons. Invading the great fortresses of Hell is a classic, and also just one of the more obvious routes. There's a lot of possibilities.

11- The Legendary Dungeon

A dungeon so grandiose and special that it spawns far-reaching legends and has a distinct place in the lore of the world. These dungeons tend to be greater in scale and significance than most. The important thing is for it to be epic in its features and relevant to the central conflicts of your world. It should have the vibes of being "the final dungeon" of the adventure.

For example, it could be the tomb of a rising dark god, the lair of the oldest dragon, the flying palace of the wizard king who has conquered half the world, etc.

12- The Bizarre Dungeon

This category encompasses the weirder ideas for what a dungeon could be. It includes things like living dungeons, portal-filled demiplanes, dungeons with weird magical effects applying to all within, and even stuff like abstract dungeons or dungeons that exist within an individual's mind.

Note that these 12 categories are not the only types of dungeons that exist and that this list is primarily content-focused. It is also possible to categorize dungeons by size (for example) instead.