#shadow will be done … soon! idk!
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todayisafridaynight · 1 year ago
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eepybogboy · 1 year ago
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did a round of eye swaps this weekend! it's the most ive done all at once, and i gotta say, i do not recommend it. by the time i got new eyes in these four, my hands were begging me to stop, so poor Priscilla sat eyeless for a while. but I'm really happy with the results!
let me walk you through the process a bit.
i used this guide to help decide which eyes i wanted to use.
this all started because i wanted Daria's eyes for Zooey.
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Daria's eyes don't match her color scheme at all, and this has always bothered me about her. they stand out too much, and its jarring. but that minty blue and pale pink are Zooey's colors exactly, it would complete her alien vibe perfectly.
but, unfortunately, Zooey and Daria have different eye chips. Daria has the Twins eye chip, which has four pegs to keep it in place in the socket, and Zooey has the newer B2 chip, which has only two prongs. i was worried that Daria's eyes wouldnt fit in Zooey's head, so i prepared a backup donor: Simone.
Simone has the CNY eye chip, first introduced in Lily Cheng, the Special Edition doll for the Chinese New Year in 2022. this eye mold is more similar to the B2 eyes since it also has only two prongs, so if Daria's eyes didnt sit right in Zooey, these might be a better fit. the colors arent as perfect, but it could work.
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except that Darias eyes fit Zooey perfectly. she looks so cute! now her eyebrows are even more out of place, but I'll get to that later.
i had already taken out Simone's eyes to compare the two, so she was given Zooey's eyes.
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i was blown away by how incredible she looks! so soft and sweet. i was fond of her before, but she's crawled up into my top ten faves with this one alteration.
now, i was going to give those eyes to Daria, but they obviously belong to Simone now. Daria still needs brown eyes though, so i brought out a more fitting donor for her: Priscilla. she has the same color eyes as Zooey, but in the Twins eye chip.
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perfect for ms. Daria, much more natural. it's just what she needed.
now, i wasn't intending to bring Minnie into this, but her eyes are a bit unusually dark, and i had Simone's eyes sitting there.. and well. i already had the hair dryer out.
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honestly? a serve. she has B2 eyes originally, like Zooey, so the lashes are Just under her eyelid but they still fit her sculpt pretty well.
at this point, my hands were aching, and i had worn a blister into my thumb, so i had to take a break. Pris was going into the stock box anyway, so there was no pressure to finish her, but the next day i came back and gave her Minnie's eyes for safekeeping.
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she looks a little sleepy, but overall pretty cute. she probably won't stay this way because she's going into the potential custom pile, but its fine for now.
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look at these four and how perfect they are!! Zooey and Daria came out exactly how i planned, but i am still so shook by how beautiful Simone is now. i just cant stop looking at her.
I'll be reblogging to add more photos, including side by side comparisons to the stock photos since tungle will only let me post 10 pictures at a time
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soukeyed · 1 year ago
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✌️✌️
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cr4yolaas · 8 months ago
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for lovers who hesitate — tsukishima kei
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synopsis: you find your old academic rival at your new job. every bone in your body says it’s fate, but everything else seems to be stopping you.
notes: puking cuz idk how i feel abt this one. i worked on this all thru out my trip and there was a lot of scrapping and rewriting and deleting the entire thing and rewriting it again, but i think this version is the best i could get it to. i <3 tsukishima kei
tags: fluff → angst → fluff, self-indulgent long fic, reader smokes, reader has trauma w/ their parents, mainly fem reader oriented but gn pronouns used, reader has self-destructive habits, themes of self-doubt from both, tsukishima is probably ooc, slow burn but not really, the most awkward love confession ever, mitski rdr x radiohead tsukishima (sorry), proofread but not really
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tsukishima kei, for once, was at a loss for words.
there you stood beneath the bright green foliage, your face marred by the heatwaves of the sun and still all too familiar. he thought, for a moment, that he had the wrong person — you had taken on a rougher appearance, but his body, heart, and soul still recognized you. and yet, he couldn’t bring himself to speak to you.
where had the last decade gone?
he coughed into his fist and walked past you, feigning ignorance to your arrival. when you followed after him with a keycard of your own, he found himself flustered.
no words were exchanged. he was playing the silent game with you, although he quietly hoped you would say something first.
and thus, he continued his shift as usual, with the added oddity of you shadowing him alongside his boss. he just couldn’t find the proper words to place on his tongue, nor the right gestures to show that he did want to talk, he just didn’t know how to.
but truthfully, what was one supposed to say in such a situation?
𝜗𝜚 。 ˚.
you believed that tsukishima hated you. and you wouldn’t blame him.
when you applied for this job, you had no expectations going into it, save for the hope of a higher salary and a lighter load than your previous job. what you had not anticipated was to stand face to face with the man you swore to hate in your youth.
a sliver of hope embedded itself within you; an overwhelming desire to perhaps refurbish a long lost relationship had taken root. but when he looked away so persistently and spoke not a word to you, that sliver dissipated into meaningless sand.
you continued your work as best as possible. it was a routine job — set up the displays for the day, guide whatever visitors came around, and leave in the afternoon. but when a certain blonde was sneaking glances at you and somehow always in your vicinity, it proved to be easier said than done.
you were too afraid to admit that his presence was refreshing. that, in the midst of the mundane and borderline unhealthy cycle you had formulated within the past handful of years following graduation, he had proven to be an odd factor; he stood as a disruptor to the routine. it was unwelcome. and even still, you craved it and more.
tsukishima kei had always been a constant in your life. you just didn’t expect him to reappear so soon, so suddenly.
𝜗𝜚 。 ˚.
it was a wednesday. an uneventful shift had come to an end. and just as you rid yourself of your work attire, a verbal invitation to a work party was sent your way.
the prospect of it was almost laughable. you were under the impression that the body of employees in a museum would be too reserved to host parties such as this, and you were quickly proven otherwise. thus, you accepted instantly.
as soon as you sat down, you regretted it just as quickly.
the moon had just barely begun to hang bright in the sky, and yet the table was already full of drunken coworkers that you hadn’t seen before. loud chatter filled the room, as if this table was the only one in the establishment. it was overbearing.
before you could take even a sip of your drink, you excused yourself under the pretense of needing to use the restroom. instead, you escaped outside, the gentle breeze reestablishing your senses and reeling you back in.
he was also there.
“oh,” he exclaimed softly. his eyes drifted away from yours, the warmth of his cheeks illuminated by the dim lamp above. oh was the first word he had ever spoken to you since graduation. you nearly laughed.
“hello,” you offered quietly, still testing the waters of conversation. your gaze fell to his fingers, slim and cherry-kissed and blemished, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. “um… i didn’t expect to see you here…?”
tsukishima laughed lightly at your tone, as if to conceal his own anxieties. “likewise.” he watched as you pulled out a cigarette, the stick meeting your lips like it were more than natural. “did you come all this way to stalk me? or to follow me? after all those years of silence?” he teased, although a tinge of bitterness dripped from his words.
you shook your head aggressively. “no, no, i just…” you bit at your lip for a moment before continuing. “i’m taking a break from my actual job. i needed to wind down before i return.”
tsukishima hummed at your response, evidently oblivious to your lie. he looked at you for a moment too long, his eyes grazing over each alteration and unfamiliar feature. he could not help but admire you in this light — the soft strings of moonlight in contrast with the neon signs glaring against your complexion painted an image he hadn’t seen in ages.
for the first time in a long time, tsukishima kei thought you were unbearably pretty.
what he didn’t catch wind of was your nervous shuffles and your incessant skin-picking as you stood beside him. he didn’t realize that the cigarette was a distractor, a tool to pull you back in. and he failed to acknowledge the stutter in your voice as you spoke to him, for it hadn’t crossed his mind once that you thought he disliked you. not that it would matter to him, anyways.
it’s too soon, he thought to himself. this is stupid, he argued. i’d mess it up if i did anything reckless, he reasoned. all of which were excuses to fight against the overwhelming reality of his vulnerability.
you turned your head away, the extended silence whittling away at whatever confidence you once bore. tsukishima watched with framed eyes and a calculative stare, as if scrutinizing each and every action you took. unbeknownst to you, it was the exact opposite of that.
the soft call of your name from inside the bar pulled your attention away, much to his dismay. he witnessed your frame disappear through the doors, your eyes flitting towards his so quickly he might’ve imagined it.
this was foolish. tsukishima decided that much. but despite his claims of how stupid it was, he was getting reeled in faster than he could pull out.
𝜗𝜚 。 ˚.
despite how hard he tried to display his ignorance, tsukishima was caring at his core.
silent glances exchanged between shifts morphed into small conversations shared whenever possible, as if the tension that previously barred you from interaction had dissipated into nothingness.
at some point, he dropped off a neatly wrapped bento box to your desk, the fabric littered with small dinosaur doodles.
“what is this?” you questioned, an amused lilt to your voice. you failed to notice the way pink rose to his ears, too enamored by the intricate arrangement of veggies and rice.
“don’t think anything of it. i just had leftover food and didn’t want to waste it.” the excuse slipped through his lips as if it were truth, earning him a soft smile from you.
there were butterflies whipping their wings against his ribcage so aggressively they might have bulged out from his skin.
eventually, you invited him out for a walk to the convenience store nearby during your break. and after that, it became routine. with an umbrella in one hand and his wallet in another, tsukishima walked with you down the street to buy onigiri and sandwiches and sometimes a sweet treat nearly every day, and that shared hour became his favorite part of work.
it was silly.
you sat beside him in the booth, your blistered hands carefully unwrapping the plastic from your meal. to your left sat a can of soda. and to your right, he was there.
“i need to stop living off of these,” you complained while motioning towards the onigiri in your grasp.
tsukishima shook his head. “what else would you eat?”
“your bento boxes,” you commented absentmindedly, your bites becoming larger as you neared the center of the rice. “i liked it, when you gave it to me that one time. you should make it again.”
he looked away, his chin resting atop the sweat of his palm. slowly, he turned towards you. “it’s just a bento box. surely you can handle making one.”
“oh, shut up!” you laughed while shoving him lightly. “the fact that you can even make one is shocking. all you have in that head is volleyball and shit.”
“our old test scores say otherwise,” he quipped. the shift in your eyes left a bitter taste on his tongue.
“whatever,” you muttered before leaving to throw out your trash. a pit grew in tsukishima’s stomach.
the blonde mustered the last of his resolve and made an offer. “i’ll teach you how to make one.”
𝜗𝜚 。 ˚.
of all the things tsukishima was bracing himself to see, a thinly-walled apartment that was less than well-maintained was the last thing he was prepared for.
you came out from your bedroom in clothes that were far more casual than his, your hair disheveled and your steps uneven. “sorry for the mess,” you uttered while bending down to pick up a hoodie sprawled across the floor, alongside a plastic bag that looked empty. he could only watch in awe.
he placed his bag down on your counter before arranging the ingredients, each brought from his own home. the clatter of your rushed cleaning echoed behind him. and when you finally stood beside the man, he could not contain his grin.
tsukishima decided to hold his tongue. instead, he opted to gently guide your hands through each step, the perspiration collecting on his skin a stark contrast from the rough texture of yours. he realized how little you knew, despite your insistence that you were more than knowledgeable in what you were doing — it showed in your unstable cutting and your hesitance when preparing the pot for boiling — but he refrained from commenting, in fear of disrupting the peace he’d constructed.
on the other hand, you were horrified.
to admit that you were inferior to him in yet another aspect uprooted the envy you had burrowed deep within yourself, and you were terrified of letting it overspill. he was so calm — at least, that was what it looked like — and you’d be damned to ruin it.
mitski’s soft hums reverberated in the background, your shaky chopping filling in the rest of the noise. it was almost satirical — the solemn melodies coated your bare bones and rendered you silent, a strong juxtaposition to the warmth exuded from the closeness of your skin to his. neither of you did anything to interfere, save for an earlier comment from the man questioning your music taste.
(“then what do you listen to?”
“… radiohead.”
“wow. as if that’s any better than mitski.”)
tsukishima found himself smiling at your pride in your creation. messy, yes. but within each ingredient lay a remnant of him, and that was enough.
a stream of small talk emerged into you sitting on the couch together. the music dimmed down to white noise and an old romcom that had only two star ratings played on your TV, the poor quality adding to the humor. your legs leaned against his beneath the blanket. and there was peace.
tsukishima knew what it was. he knew what this would blossom into, and he could only hope and pray he didn’t mess it up in some way. your quiet yet crude commentary disappeared into the tender air, and he remained silent, as if absorbing each syllable that fell from your lips.
it was so quiet, and so vulnerable, and so delicate that he felt like he was going to explode.
he didn’t question it when your head fell onto his shoulder. he didn’t make fun of you when your colorful reviews on each scene turned into sleepy ramblings. and he didn’t say a word when you dozed off against him, your whole body against his.
instead, he looked around. he took note of the dust collecting on the cabinets, the water marks on the windows, the clothes and food and plastic scattered all over your living room, the dead plant on the shelf, and the half-empty pack of cigarettes sitting on the arm of the couch. it was all a far, far cry from the cleanliness and stability of his own home, and yet, he thought to himself, this is so like them. and he thought, i could live in here, if it were with them. and again, he thought, this could be a home.
tsukishima kei was of the belief that he did not have a type. but as he observed your house and reflected on its singular (?) inhabitant, he figured that this was his type. his type was your quiet laughs and your sharp remarks and your wrinkled clothes and the scent of cigarettes that always seemed to cling to you. his type was you.
he exchanged one last glance to your sleeping figure before getting up and leaving you to rest. not without wrapping up your lunch for tomorrow, and not without a small smile on his lips.
𝜗𝜚 。 ˚.
hell came to you on a thursday morning — the day following whatever had happened between you and tsukishima. you hadn’t put on your uniform just yet, and your belongings sat outside of your locker.
your boss scrambled into the office, his brows furrowed and his larger hands closing the door as quickly as he could without slamming it. the sweat that collected between his wrinkles shined beneath the dim lights. his breaths were haggard and rushed and shallow.
for the first time in a long time, you felt fear.
“there’s people who want to talk to you outside,” he whispered. “they want to talk to you now.”
there was no one else in the building. no one other than you, your boss, and the people who were so adamant on speaking to you.
so why was it so loud as soon as you stepped out?
the eyes of your mother came into your vision first. then, the stare of your father. and finally, their faces blended into one large picture that made sense.
“what the fuck are you doing here?”
withered hands slammed against the table. you watched the papers and the dinosaur trinkets rattle. “that’s no way to speak to your parents.” you could feel it — the air seeping out of your lungs, depriving you of breath; the trembling in your palms; the cloudiness in your peripherals. you could hear them, but you couldn’t hear them. at some point, their vocabulary was solely financial, and at another point, it grew cruel and violent, akin to wild dogs gnawing away at your skin. you didn’t know where it was going. the hastened footsteps of an unidentifiable coworker neared, and the shaky breaths of your boss behind the door grew louder and louder.
you needed to leave.
your feet led you away before your mind could. the yelling softened, until finally, the only sound was the chirp of birds and the whirring of cars.
𝜗𝜚 。 ˚.
tsukishima didn’t see you for a week. he didn’t hear any mention of your name, didn’t find your face in a crowd, didn’t feel the vibrations of your voice against his chest. you had disappeared, and no one told him why. it wasn’t until your name didn’t show up on the schedule that something clicked.
it was cruel. you were cruel, he decided.
tadashi sat on the couch while his roommate leaned against the counter. the hum of the air conditioning blinded the blonde’s senses.
“i don’t fucking know what i did,” tsukishima groaned into his palms for the twentieth time that night. “they just left. they quit and i can’t even contact them because i was stupid enough to not ask for their number or email or anything. i don’t- i don’t fucking know, ‘dashi, i don’t.”
“i’m sure they had some good reason,” his friend attempted. “i don’t think they’d do that if it weren’t within some sensible limit. it was fucked, yeah, but… i don’t know. i think they’ll come back when the time is right.”
it was tiring. it was tiring to be left alone not just once, but twice. and it was tiring to have it hurt so much more the second time.
tsukishima ran a hand through his hair. “it’s so stupid.” another groan spilled from his tongue. “i’m so fucking tired of this.”
𝜗𝜚 。 ˚.
this was just about the fourth job you had applied for.
the museum could no longer be a part of your routine — instead, it morphed into loud nights and bustling men and the clinking of glass; it emerged from quiet and gentle tours around dinosaur exhibits to noisy cheers and yelling and the more-than-occasional bottle thrown at your head; it turned into pure, devastating loneliness.
it was compact. it was suffocating. it was overwhelming. it was everything the museum was not. but you could not return there, no matter how much you ached for it.
you were avoiding him. avoiding everyone.
a gentle nudge from a blurred face reminded you that your shift was over for the night, coupled with an apology for the gash that formed on your head from another drunken man who had no outlet for his anger other than you. with heavy steps, you trudged back home, thankful for the week’s pay and the free food and drinks.
it was quiet.
the lights were off, and the LED numbers on the microwave read way past midnight. a dull pounding resided in your chest.
just the other day, it was so vibrant. you were alive, and so was he, and it was going well. but it was wrong. you realized that much when your parents came to remind you, and you realized it again as you quit the same day.
the thumping in your chest spread to your head, and your back met the wall with a force that was sure to upset your neighbors. carefully, daintily, you slid down, your body reaching the floor gently.
you missed him. but it was wrong.
that night, for the first time in a long while, you cried.
𝜗𝜚 。 ˚.
tucked away in a small alley in sendai resided an establishment with only three tables and a bar that was worn down from years of use. and behind it, tsukishima found you.
he was only out for a walk. at least, that was what it was until his feet brought him elsewhere and he stood face-to-face with the most suspicious of buildings. and when he saw you, it felt as if all the anger and guilt and distress that riddled his bones and flesh and blood withered away, as if it hadn’t coalesced within his veins over the past month.
before you could hide, his hand snaked around your wrist, his touch light yet desperate. “can we talk?”
talking entailed bringing him back to your apartment. and by extension, it included him witnessing your house somehow being worse than before.
tsukishima found himself sitting on the floor with his back to the couch, and you found yourself sprawled across said couch. he picked at the blisters on his fingers before quietly asking, “why did you do that?”
he could hear your nervous habits — the shifting, the fidgeting, the harsh lip biting. “i don’t know.”
“bullshit,” he muttered under his breath.
you turned over onto your side to face his back. “my parents found me,” you explained meekly. improper guidance leads to destructive tendencies. tsukishima kei, in his high school years, was deemed your only obstacle to complete succession — always a few points ahead, a few questions ahead, a few steps ahead — and your poor influence from youth only fueled such a fire. and so, you felt that it was reasonable to loathe him. your judgement was clouded beyond repair.
tsukishima listened. he listened to every detail, every portion of your retelling of each segment of your childhood, and your teen years, and your silly hatred for him. he listened to you talk about what you did after graduation — how you got into a good university but dropped out and hopped between a multitude of jobs (thus proving your claim at the work party to be a lie), and how you were constantly escaping from both the stress and your parents.
he listened so intently that it was overbearing. you didn’t tell him that. instead, you talked and talked and talked until you sculpted him into someone who knew your entire life, as if he were there from the beginning.
“i’m sorry,” you whispered through stubborn tears. you hated it — how exposing it was, how you had practically dumped everything onto him in one go, how you couldn’t help but beg for forgiveness in the end. most of all, you hated how easily he gave you his forgiveness.
𝜗𝜚 。 ˚.
tsukishima didn’t leave your house at all that week. you found no energy to complain.
in the morning, you’d find him cleaning whatever disaster you left behind, whether it was the pile of laundry on your bed or the collection of full trash bags next to the front door or the food (or rather, the lack thereof) in your fridge. he was silent all the while, and that hurt more than any berating he could have done.
“why are you still here?” you asked him one night. you had finally moved from the couch to the bed, and tsukishima couldn’t be any prouder. (any movement at all was enough to be proud of, he felt). “you shouldn’t want to be here.”
you watched him heave a heavy breath as his shoulders drooped. “because i want you,” he admitted, his voice unmistakably tender and soft and ridden with a youthfulness that he unearthed from deep within himself. “i want to be with you and i want you to be happy and i just want us to be happy together, for once.”
he spoke of his affections so fluently, as if he were born to share them with you. and still, every bone in your body was whispering otherwise.
even so, tsukishima promised that he would be willing to wait. even if it meant watching you down an unreasonable amount of beer at an unreasonable hour.
he promised to sit through it all with you, even if it meant listening to you call his name out in long, drawn-out tones. even if it meant hearing you confess your long-harbored affection for him. even if it meant hearing you say that you never told him, not even in high school, because you felt like you didn’t deserve to tell him.
tsukishima didn’t understand.
he failed to comprehend how you didn’t feel deserving, when his whole body, mind, and soul was bound to you; when, in the depths of the night, he’d burn pink in the night at the mere thought of you; when he was so uncharacteristically smitten for you. he didn’t get it. he didn’t think he ever would.
not that he said anything about it — at least, not in that moment. not when you were inexplicably drunk, to the point where you couldn’t move a limb without tumbling over.
but, without a doubt, he went to bed with a stupid grin and a berry-kissed face.
𝜗𝜚 。 ˚.
it took another couple of weeks before tsukishima would see you at work again. you entered through the doors as if you never left, and he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be excited or neutral or anything else, because his guts only knew tenderness with you at that point — all the fake ignorance and stubbornness and denial had been cast aside.
you basked in a shared silence in the locker room, until you finally admitted that you were, in fact, healing. to some degree, at least. you asked him to come over again under the pretense of seeing how clean your house was. you detailed every segment of your life, from when he last saw you to your entrance into the museum, including how you made yourself breakfast for the first time in forever and how you drank a cup of water almost every day. and he was so overwhelmingly proud, so much so that it spilled over and he couldn’t contain himself.
“i love you,” he blurted out, his rushed admission cutting off your rambling. you whipped your head towards him, but he was looking everywhere except for you.
“what?” you exclaimed.
“i said i love you. i’m in love with you. what don’t you get?”
your jaw hung open, just like that of a fish. “wait- what the fuck?” much to his amusement, you jumped up and began pacing around the room. “i like- well, i guess, love,” you paused, the vocabulary uncomfortable on your teeth. “you too, but like- what the fuck? who told you that?”
“you did.”
“what?”
tsukishima kei was laughing. he was laughing at you, and yet, you weren’t as angry as you expected to be. he was laughing, and all you could do was relish in the noise.
“so,” he hummed delightfully, an amused smirk on his lips. “am i still coming over?”
you (begrudgingly) agreed. again, he laughed — this time, at the heat rising to your face.
𝜗𝜚 。 ˚.
through the cracks between your blinds, silk strands of sunlight crawled through, a soft reminder of the morning. beside you, a mountain of warmth lay, with his glasses still on his face and his hoodie misshapen on his body.
tsukishima was always the first to rise. he would wait for your eyes to flit open gently before getting up and making breakfast, despite your protests that your food was probably better than his. he never listened.
the splatter of coffee into your cup served as the only noise in the room, save for the dull noise of the morning news on the TV and the cars passing by outside the window. you watched intently as the blonde set up the table, his lip drawn in a tight line but his eyes shimmering with contentment. “eat up,” he spoke quietly as he took a seat in front of you.
tsukishima kei was, by no means, a cruel person. he was just a little rough on the edges and occasionally didn’t quite know how to say things without being mean. but as he sat with you, eating breakfast made by him in your shared apartment; as he pressed a fleeting kiss to your forehead before leaving to change, ignoring your groans about the remnants of syrup on his lips; as he drove you to work as the sun settled in the sky; you realized he was simply a man in love.
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obliviouscxnt · 10 months ago
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His Shadow Azriel x Reader
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a/n: quick little idea/drabble i had (that could honestly get turned into another series) idk if this has been done before, if it has let me know please, I'll probably delete this. I hope you enjoy :)) <333
synopsis: azriel takes you for granted
Warnings: angst
pt.2
He thought it was poetic, the way the shadows disappeared around Mor. She brightened up his life, literally.  
Never did he think he’d find someone else capable of doing such a thing. Until he met Elaine. 
The change was gradual, so gradual he hadn’t even noticed. 
They stayed with him, at first, treating the once-human girl like any other person. But then she was turned fae, and Azriel’s visits with her began. With each visit, less, and less, shadows joined him. 
He was completely unaware, she stole his focus. 
He felt protective of her, like a precious flower he had to keep from wilting. That protectiveness slowly became something more, a yearning. Even more so when Cassian discovered he was mated to the eldest Acheron.
Though the night Elaine kissed him, everything changed.
They’d sat outside, in her garden, and even though the sky was already dark they’d stayed. Getting lost in conversation. She told him about things she cared about, and he listened. She asked him about himself, and he answered.
 At some point she ended up in front of him, gazing up at his lips. 
She looked so beautiful, illuminated by the stars, surrounded by her lovely garden. A sight he felt lucky to witness. 
When she leaned forward he couldn’t stop himself. He met her halfway, so softly, so gently. But as soon as his lips touched hers, all those feelings for her died. He felt nothing.
The switch in emotions almost gave him whiplash. It was dizzying. 
Underwhelming didn’t feel like the best word for it, but it was the only thing he could come up with. Nothing was exciting about the kiss, nothing revolutionary. It wasn’t like it felt wrong, but it didn’t feel right either. 
Disappointment was what Azriel felt. A little part of him was hoping that maybe the Acheron sister would be his mate. 
It seemed fitting, right? Three brothers, three sisters. But now that her lips were against his, he knew it wasn’t right.  
The spymaster pulls back, taking a step away. Looking at the beautiful woman. Any feelings beyond protectiveness had vanished from his body. Not even a tickle of butterflies when she smiled at him, so obviously delighted with the kiss they shared.
It wasn’t her fault, any male would be lucky to have Elaine. But it was clear to him, that male couldn’t be him.
“It’s getting late, we should head in.” Her face drops at his words, he doesn’t even look at her as he begins leading her inside and back to her room.  
He should say more, apologize, and tell her how he feels so she at least has a reason. Not just silence. But his brain was still reeling from the drastic change in emotions—or lack thereof. No words leave his mouth.
He walks Elaine up to her room. Bidding her a short goodnight before leaving the frowning woman to her own devices.
He kicked himself for hurting her, for allowing it to get that far. Elaine was just so tempting, and he was so hopeful. He kicked himself for that too. 
Of course he wouldn’t have a mate. 
He couldn't even give the poor woman an apology.
It wasn’t until he made it to his room, all the way up in the House of Wind, that he realized no shadows were with him. Not even a whisper reached his ears.  
They’d been with him as long as he could remember, and now they were just gone. 
He couldn’t place the feeling they left in their absence. But he knew he didn’t like it. 
*****
You knew it was unfair of you to be jealous. He didn’t know how deep your devotion ran.  He didn’t see life the way you had, you didn’t even think he saw you as anything other than a servant. 
It wasn’t unfair of you to feel sad about that. 
You’re nothing but shadows to him. When he’s always been everything to you. From the moment he first called to you, when you were barely a flicker of darkness.
But he would never see that. 
Azriel is sound asleep when you slip through the cracks of his door and into his room. 
He hadn’t even called to you. Did he even care you were gone? 
You find yourself taking form, a form of something he could relate to. A beautiful woman, someone like Elaine, or Mor. But you knew you looked nothing like them. Your darkness couldn't captivate beauty like that. Bold and enchanting, like the Morrigan. Pure and innocent, like Miss Elaine.
A sigh leaves your mouth as you curl up in your designated corner, looking at the hands that felt alien to you. Even if you showed him this form, saw him face to face, would he see you any differently?
You doubt it. You’d always be shadows to him.
You were so busy wallowing to yourself in the corner you didn’t see the shadowsinger stir at your sigh. Didn’t see him blink awake, or sit up and look around. 
But you felt it when his eyes settled on you for what felt like the first time. Heard the gasp that left his mouth. 
Your heart stops, frozen in fear for half a second, before it starts again, and you collapse into clouds of darkness.
*****
It was the middle of the night when Azriel woke Rhys up, shouting at him from outside his mental barriers. The worry in his voice was what had the High Lord jumping out of his mate's arms, waking Cassian, and heading to the abode carved into the top of the mountain. 
Azriel paces around the office room, running a hand through his hair. If he wasn’t so stressed he would’ve noticed that his shadows don’t try to comfort him like usual.
“What’s going on?” Rhys asks as he and Cassian walk into the room. Both are in different states of undress with looks of concern on each of their faces.
Cassian immediately notes Azriel’s distressed state, a rare sight considering the spymaster had long ago mastered staying calm and stoic in the face of trouble.
Cassian almost doesn't want to know what has the male so bothered.
“There was something in my room.” 
“What?!” The reactions are simultaneous. Any sign of sleep was immediately gone from both of their faces.
“I think it was a woman… I don’t know I didn’t get a good enough look. It disappeared right after I woke up.”  His fingers grip his hair. Heart still beating fast from the interaction. No one has ever snuck up on him like that. 
He's usually the one doing the sneaking.
His shadows, which had returned sometime after he’d fallen asleep, hadn’t even noticed the stranger, if they had they certainly didn’t warn him. He tries not to feel the nerves that fact struck in him.
“What do you mean, ‘disappeared’?” Cassian asks.
“Exactly what it sounds like, Cass. One second it was sitting in the corner of my room, the next it was gone.” Which made absolutely no sense, the wards surrounding House of Wind forbid winnowing of any kind. 
This was obviously a serious issue, the wards could either be faulty or someone could have found a way around them. 
“Are you sure it wasn’t just a vivid dream?” Cassian asks, just trying to come with any better explanation.
“Was your encounter with Bryaxis just a vivid dream?” Azriel snaps. There was no way he imagined it. No way.
Rhys diffuses, stepping in with hands raised in surrender. Silently telling Azriel that they were on his side. “What did it look like when it disappeared? Did it look like it was winnowing?” 
The spymaster thinks about it. No. No, it didn’t. 
It was like its body blended with the darkness. Became the darkness. Almost like… Azriel’s eyes widen.
A shadow. 
“What? What is it, Az?” Rhys asks, probably noticing the revelation he was having from the look on his face. 
The shadowsinger's face becomes neutral, as calm as a person with his features was capable of looking. He shakes his head. “Maybe it was nothing. Sorry for waking you guys up. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” Then he left without another word.
Rhys and Cassian share a look. A mix of bewilderment, concern, and exhaustion filled their features.
Azriel waits till he reaches his room to say anything, making sure to close the door behind him before a single word can leave his mouth. “Are you jealous? Is that it? Is that why you always leave around Elaine and Mor? Why you thought it would be fun to scare me and my family? Because I don't give you enough attention?” 
His shadows scatter, detaching from his body, hiding under his bed and in the darker nooks of his room. 
“Don’t hide now. I know it was you, that’s why you didn’t warn me.” He gazes into the dark corners of his room, glaring. How could they keep something like this from him? Hide the fact that they could take form? “Show yourself.”
There was an eerie pause, Azriel’s heart began beating faster. Then the fae lights started to flicker.
With each flash more and more shadows gathered before him. Building on each other. The lights went out completely.
When he turned them back on you stood before him.
The most beautiful creature he’d ever seen.
Pure darkness rose from your body, looking like black smoke. It encapsulates you, different from the way it encapsulates him. The darkness wasn't an extension of your body, it was a part of you, was you, moved with you like it was just another limb.
“My intention was not to scare.” You spoke in a whisper he’d heard many times. A whisper that was most loyal to him. That fulfilled his every beck and call.
Azriel was at a loss for words. You were stunning, a word he'd not known the true meaning of until he laid eyes on you.
“For years, centuries, I’ve followed you. I chose you as my singer. I answered your call.” Tears fill your eyes, but when they fall they dissipate into smoke. Blowing away with a wave of your hand. “I have shown you nothing but loyalty, and care. I’ve sat back while watching you love others and I’ve made peace with it, I’ve accepted our differences.” You suck in a deep breath and steady yourself. “But when I leave, you don’t care, don't even notice.” Your lips tremble, voice breaking as you ask him a question he couldn’t even think to answer. “After everything I’ve done, how can I mean so little to you?” 
Azriel’s mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water. He has so much to say but his vocal cords are tied. He did care, though it was clear he hadn’t shown it enough. He found himself thinking about all the little times the shadows had been there for him, comforting him, caring for him. And now he could put a face to those moments, it wasn’t just shadows, it was you that’d been there for him over the years.  
“So yes, I was sad and mad, and maybe a little jealous... But I wasn’t trying to scare you. I was just- I don’t know! Imagining? Yearning for a life I can’t have?” 
 The fae lights began blinking again making his heart jump with every flicker. He doesn't want you to disappear yet. He opens his mouth to say something but you beat him to it. 
“You don’t have to say anything, I don’t want an apology.” You lift a shadowy hand, wiping your face and steeling yourself. “Don’t fret, shadowsinger, I’m still your faithful servant. I couldn’t refuse your calls even if I wanted to. And I’m okay with that, it’s what I chose. Just don’t expect me to be there for you in moments where you can't even acknowledge my existence.” 
The lights flicker again and you're gone. 
Leaving Azriel to wonder if he’s lost you. Although, he never really had you in the first place.
next->
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seiwas · 1 year ago
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₊˚⊹。and my body keeps saying (it's yours) | gojo satoru
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wc: 1.6k
summary: gojo thinks this is different, new, almost like it’s the first time for everything.
contains: f!reader in mind but no specifics are mentioned, 18+/mature/soft-slight n*ft/w, sex with feelings (it’s really just vanilla tho!), first time!, there’s an awkward bit but that’s intentional!, lots of nervous feelings! but also lots of intimacy!
a/n: for nonie.🫧 who asked about what it would be like for their first time! title is inspired by an emotional oranges song, devotion (which i used as music inspo for the entire fic too + troye sivan, what a heavenly way to die). this is also my first time writing anything close to n*fw so please be kind! idk if i’ll ever write one again; takes place between tell me about love (show me how) and so this is what it means to be in love!
collection masterlist: conversations on love 02. tell me about love (show me how) <- you are here -> +02 (extra). look my way, you're what i crave
MINORS PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT.
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It’s a touch—
—fingertips brushing the edge of his jaw, trailing down his neck, lightly, delicately.
Gojo kisses you beneath the glow of your bathroom lights and he twitches, just a little bit. 
“Sorry,” you stop, attempting to pull away from him immediately. 
His neck is sensitive, always has been since Toji. The mark has faded over the years; what used to be a line running through the shadow of his jawline is now nothing, but you know the feeling lingers, still. You’ve tried to avoid the area as much as you could—while sparring, hugging, kissing; holding him in moments as intimate as this. But sometimes, your fingers slip, and he jolts, so you move away, apologetic—
And he wishes that you didn’t, wishes that he didn’t have to react that way when all he really wants is for you to hold him like this.
He stares at you now, lips puffed and kiss-bitten, and thinks, he shouldn’t even be here—
—at 2:00 a.m., in your apartment, fresh out of a three-day assignment he caught the last train for, just to see you. 
He shouldn’t even be here, bone-tired in a black t-shirt and track pants he couldn’t be bothered with—there just wasn’t enough time to change out of it. 
And he really shouldn't even be here, except, he cut the assignment two days short, rushed through it, restless, eager at the thought of getting back soon. 
All because he missed you. 
Gojo keeps you close, his fingers splayed on the base of your spine, warm and pressing. You can’t read him, his next move, but his eyes hold lightning crackling. He takes your hand and guides it back to where he’s weakest, underneath his jaw, on his neck—healed skin and tissue, his lifeline to you.
“Keep it,” he murmurs, eyes piercing. 
He still twitches when you touch his skin, but it’s always been involuntary. You should know that it could never be because of you, your hands that hold every good thing his heart carries. 
You lean in first, tiptoeing, nudging his nose with yours and your lips hovering. His pulse point rests beneath your fingertips—can you feel how fast it’s beating? Just from having you near him? 
The tips of his hair tickle your forehead and he swallows, throat bobbing. It’s impossible to resist him when he’s this boyish, this charming, so you kiss his lips once, before pulling away, teasing. He bites his lips, red blooming against pink, and you don’t know exactly what you’re anticipating—
But he leans in. 
When you kiss again, the feeling is familiar, a memory of trembling lips and shaky breaths by a bathroom door that isn’t yours. He doesn’t tremble anymore, isn’t as stiff when he has your lips memorized among many other things, but Gojo still flushes the same way your cheeks heat up and your breaths intermingle at the same rate your hearts race.  
You follow where the lights have diffused into your hallway, this dance with him a push-and-pull you’ve done a few times before. He keeps his palm flat on your lower back, pushing you closer, while pulling you towards your bedroom door.  
His hands slide to your waist, dipping you, grip tightening as you bite his lips, tugging. He moans softly, voice low when your hands rake through his hair, the vibrations rippling through your mouth. Your fingers grasp at the short strands of hair at the back of his head, sighing when his lips are released from yours. 
There’s a moment where you catch his eyes, pupils blown a dangerous blue—a sky swallowing you whole before he begins trailing kisses down your neck, nips and licks evidence of just how greedy he is with you. 
A heat builds within you, rooted deep in your belly as you stay pressed against the outline on his crotch. 
It’s hard to imagine a time before all this, how he even struggled to hold your hand when he touches you now like this. 
You stumble over his feet as he backs into your bedroom, steadied only by his hold on you. You chuckle, a small ‘oops’, so sweet, as your collarbone clashes with his teeth. He smiles, lips curled against your skin as he teases, “So clumsy,” 
He’s kissed you this much before, has held you this tight, and touched you much more but this feeling between you now, he can tell—
Tonight is different. 
You lead him this time, to the edge of your bed as you keep him closer, hands all over him. When you lie down, lower lip caught between your teeth, you smile shyly but your eyes burn sinfully, and Gojo wonders if you know that this is what he sees when he’s dreaming. 
He moves closer, your mattress dipping as he hovers above you, arms caging the sides of your face. His head is spinning, eyes zeroing in on the skin exposed by the single button undone on your pajama top. 
When you cup his cheeks, thumb running across his swollen lips—
He thinks he might go crazy. 
You have no idea what you just did. 
He takes a breath before pressing every bit of his longing onto your neck, kissing, sucking, licking, imprinting proof that he was here, with you. It’s red and blotchy, situated right underneath your ear and it’s one too many but still not enough—for him, never enough.
You gasp, tugging at the hem of his shirt, and it’s overwhelming, this feeling. As quickly as it escalated, Gojo freezes, as if you’ve burned him, as if he’s caught up to what could possibly be happening, and it’s—
It’s a lot. 
He pulls away slowly, eyes wide and breath shaky. The air is thick, hot and heavy, and this—where this is going is something he’s never done before, not entirely. 
You sit up, alarmed, hands cradling his face carefully. His eyes are frantic, nervous, blinking at a pace that only makes you worried. 
“We can stop,” you mumble, lowering your hands to take his, gently.
He sees you, hair a mess, marked his, beautiful, and  he just wants to make sure—that you’re okay with this, that you want this, with him. Truly. 
“Do you want to?” he asks, a sky you could fall into, “Honestly.” 
He breathes out, staring. You gulp before shaking your head. “Do you?”  
And he doesn’t have to think much about it, really, because of course, he doesn’t want to stop. 
How could he, when it’s you?
He shakes his head too and you smile.
You squeeze his hand, guiding it to the buttons of your top, “Okay—”
“We’ve never…” he hesitates, trailing off.
It’s weird because it isn’t anything he hasn’t seen before; you’ve both done things at the very least, just never all the way. And now, with the knowledge that that very fact is going to change—it feels different, new, like it’s the first time for everything. 
You nod, stroking his knuckles to reassure him, “You said you’re a fast learner, right?” 
The nervous laugh you give is oddly comforting, and he remembers that first kiss and the single thought that if he doesn’t do this now, how much longer ‘till he does? 
So he takes it—
—unbuttons your top one-by-one, and he’s a bit shaky, hands clammy, but he gets it off eventually. Then goes his shirt, and your shorts, his pants, a struggle to get past his ankles until you’re both bare, cheeks hot while giggling, like first loves—and maybe it is. 
Gojo sees you stripped down, uncovered, wholly you for the first time and thinks he could die. 
It’s vulnerable and strange as he hovers over you this time, skin-to-skin, but you fit together this way, just right. 
You giggle some more, unable to hide your nervousness. It’s a habit you have—laughing in inappropriate situations, but he thinks it’s cute, so he does it right back. 
Your fingers trace his eyebrows, down to his nose and cheeks, then to his lips, still red and bitten, “You’re so pretty, Satoru. Not fair.” 
He blushes, tips of his ears and neck flushing, “‘Course,” he kisses your nose, pulling away to get a good look at you.
“Have to be if I’m with you.” 
It’s cheesy, and you roll your eyes, laughing full-on but he smiles wider and it feels good knowing that he’ll forever get to share this moment with you. 
“I, uh,” he mumbles, trying to find the words, “have to prep.” 
“Oh, yeah, right,” you move, hands reaching for him between you, but he catches your wrist before you touch him, stopping you. 
“Don’t,” he says, firm, face red as he looks straight at you. “I might not…” he doesn’t continue but you know what he means, so you nod, pulling away. 
His hand trails down your body, inching closer to where you need him to be, and it’s sweet you think, because he kisses your lips once before asking, “Can I?” as if he still has to.
You nod, before whispering, “Don’t ask next time.” 
Next time, you said and it rings, echoes in his head as a promise for more—that this is just the beginning. 
So he touches you, in every way he thinks you should be, in every way he knows you want to be. 
There’s a gasp, then a moan as he leaves another mark on your neck, and you’re so close when he stops. 
You whimper, but you know what’s next, and you see it in his eyes as he prepares himself, fingers discarding a square packet, “You’ll let me know?” he whispers, soft, concerned.
You’ll let me know if I hurt you? he means, and his eyes stare into yours, sincere. 
You nod, brushing your lips against his, and when you feel it—it’s unusual, maybe a bit uncomfortable but he’s there kissing it away. 
There’s an adjustment, a few awkward positions until he finds it, then he goes slow, rhythmic. Your sighs grow louder and he groans, withholding, then you say it—
“‘Toru,”
—by his ear, soft and breathy, and he’s gone, stilling and spilling, a part of him forever yours, irrevocably. 
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thank you notes: to nonie.🫧 for asking about this in the first place, and to niku (@stellamancer) for emotional support and for reading this first!! + for helping me go over it!! i love u niku 😭
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comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡
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zombiecare-rot-art · 6 months ago
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Last day of mer may and my Moon design is finally done!!! I got inspo from the blanket octopus and shadow leviathan from Subnautica Zero. I went back and forth with wanting to make this boyo partially transparent and honestly, I only didn't because it would have made the coloring take longer lol. Because I played Subnautica to help get me inspired and motivated to finally tackle making designs for Sun and Moon (will do Eclipse but not any time soon sadly) I envision them in that environment but they don't have to be limited to that game, so to all my fanfic authors out there if you like either design and want to use them please do (and send me a link so I can read it hehehee~)
I was first thinking of the scar on his chest to be something caused by Sun but idk
Sun design!
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Loki using his Shadows on you after your behaviour at a party
TW: Slight Voeyerism, sex with shadows, hints to somnophilia.
Odin had held a grand festival. It had beautiful nymphs and goddesses from different worlds. You had dressed in a beautiful black top with a matching skirt. The shirt cut off before your navel and the skirt cut off before your thighs.
Wrapped in a beautiful glittery veil, and a golden headband. You were stunning, in Loki's eyes you shined brighter than all the stars above, glittering on the ceiling.
Grünle a jöttenhimer had asked you to dance and you agreed to one just to indulge him. Suprisingly akward was far from it. He was a gentleman through and through. With slight jokes and remarks. You enjoyed his company yes. Buqt you wished to be in the arms of a god a few yards away.
Although those yards felt like seas. You knew this wasn't one sided as you felt his gaze on you, and you only the entire time. Grünle brought you close for the last time and gave you a polite hug.
Kissing you cheek, he smiled and told you to enjoy yourself. You simply smiled and said you would.
You allowed the music and the wine to guide you, mingling with he crowd. You didn't feel his gaze anymore. You started to turn but was caught when yoy fwlt something trace your waist.
Or rather.
Someone.
"You of all people should know that i get jealous very easily, especially with people i care about," he whispered gently into your neck.
He moved you to he music and you began to dance. You didn't need to look behind you, or at the long veiny hands infront of you.
And he was jealous.
He slowly twirled you and you glimpsed his face.
He was jealous.
The dance between you was filled with tension, he held you closer at parts, his hand going higher towards your neck as though to collar you.
You smiled to yourself, if he ever wished to do that, boy would you let him. He kissed your cheek at the end of the dance. Before stealing one from you lips. It was a quick one.
You only bit your lip and curtsied and after your dance gave your hand out to another, and another, and another. Till you swore you shoes had worn out. With every dance, they would swoop in a kiss your cheek.
You could basically feel his jealousy rising with each peck. You had gone out to the adjoining balcony for air. You tried to gather your thoughts. You had teased the god of mischief. Surely some form of punishment should be on its way.
As you stood pondering what you had done. You realised you weren't alone. You felt them.
His shadows.
You felt them slip under your dress, fondling and groping you. One even slipped into your hand and took your drink. Sliding it onto the balcony table.
The slowly relieved you of you dress sliding it off your shoulders. Soon you were on your back, softly moaning at the invisible person on you. You felt everything, from your breasts to your nethers.
It's not like you've never been touched there before, it's just that you've never been touched by his shadows.
The moved in sync guiding you to your orgasm, one went over your mouth to stop anyone from getting to hear you.
Loki was the type to either fuck you infront of everyone, or the keep your moans and pleasures to himself.
It stopped at your breasts for a minute giving it a light squeeze before heading up your face to your ear.
Over and over, these shadows were relentless. Guiding you to every orgasm. You were a sweating heaving mess. You turned to try and crawl away but they wouldn't let go.
Finally they released you. Cleaning you up aswell. Your mind was hazy and in a mess. Slowly one slid up your body again.
"The things I wish to do to you lovely, but alas my shadows will have to suffice for now, do not wait up for me love, i shall come for you, then, I shall have you, awake or not."
lo elysium.
You felt the floor open at your feet and off you went. You hoped loki would join you soon.
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A/N: curtsied
Idk how to spell it and I'm too lazy for da shit
Also if y'all cannot picture the outfit, I got reference from. The Dragon King's bride on WEBTOON , CHAPTER 16
Also reader is either black or like dark skinned, am I projecting? 🤔 maybe🤷🏾‍♀️
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nagichi-boop · 2 years ago
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SHADOW IS WRITTEN SO WELL IN THE MURDER OF SONIC THE HEDGEHOG!!
First of all, just him showing up to Amy’s party is a step up from his recent “I will do everything myself, I hate everyone, imma fight you” attitude that we have seen. Secondly, and idk if it was intentional, but him attending shows he cares about Amy. He’s always had a special place for her after the events of SA2, so it’s nice to see him showing up for something that maybe isn’t his style for her sake. (Parties aren’t really his thing, after all.)
SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT
It’s also really sweet of him to go through so many lengths to try and get Amy’s present. I definitely don’t think he forgot to get her a present, he genuinely just didn’t seem to know that it was a social norm to bring presents to a birthday. If he really didn’t care, he either wouldn’t have gotten her anything or he would’ve given her a rushed gift. But no, he went through a lot of effort, basically foregoing the game, just to stall Amy so he could get her a present she would enjoy.
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And not just any present - he remembered her mentioning a specific band she liked and that she hadn’t seen them live. This not only suggests he listens to her and remembers what she tells him, but also implies that he has had multiple conversations with her. Clearly he must have also done some research too since he knew that the tickets were going live soon. He thought this through, even if it was a bit last minute, and did his best to get the tickets (even though he admits to not being the best with computers, which is also nice because usually Shadow just insists he’s the best at everything). I also think it was sweet that he didn’t heavily protest Amy’s suggestion to see the band together. He hesitated, but then yielded. This…for a character who recently has been written to be quite selfish.
He seemed upset that he couldn’t keep this a surprise, but he also didn’t become enraged or lash out at Tails and MC/Barry. In fact, he didn’t really lash out at anyone at any point which is refreshing, since in most Sonic media that’s his go-to emotion.
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Most of his expressions throughout the game are fairly gentle in fact. Sure, he doesn’t smile, but he also isn’t actively angry. And the one expression where he does seem a bit negative just seems like his resting expression, or at absolute worse just a little annoyed. He’s very mellow throughout the game and it’s refreshing.
Even after he has finished talking to Amy, Tails and MC/Barry, he offers to stay with them and help them with the investigation. Normally in Sonic media, Shadow has no interest in helping others and only really cooperates if there’s a mutual goal/interest. And even then, he tends try to do things on his own. But in this game? He actually cooperates, and what’s more, he goes out of his way to offer his help.
So far I’ve mostly talked about his attitude towards Amy. But what’s his attitude towards Sonic? People debate back and forth on whether Shadow hates Sonic and the recent games and media have made it seem like he does hate Sonic. But in this game? I wouldn’t say so. I mean, he’s literally hanging out with him and his friends and instead of having beef with Sonic, he just focused on making Amy happy. And even when the situation gets more dire and Sonic is found to be knocked out, he doesn’t make any snarky comments or anything. In fact, he actually helps to tend to Sonic’s condition, even if it was just checking his pulse. If he rly didn’t care, he would’ve left it to everyone else.
Man, I could talk for hours about Shadow in this game. I can’t believe this April Fools prank game is actually the best characterisation for Shadow we’ve had recently. He’s not overly aggressive, he isn’t selfish, he isn’t super edgy. He is still sorta cold, but he’s not rude or mean. He’s actually really kind (in his own way), putting his needs and desires on hold to make Amy’s birthday fun and to help everyone out. I seriously hope that Shadow is written more like this in the future and not like he has been. Maybe Sega wasn’t joking about taking on board the complaints of the fandom.
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lookforsomeoneelse · 3 months ago
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i don’t want to set the world on fire… (prologue)
been reading through old imposter au sagaus, and found inspo to get off my butt and start typing…
anyway tw for your standard imposter au stuff like persecution, violence, and cussing
also you might be a trans allegory? idk what that means but i think i can infer
Imagine waking up in a body that is not your own.
It freaks you out; the first couple of days after the sudden shift, but you gather enough information to piece together the puzzle of where you are.
You’re in Genshin Impact, a game you just played to kill time.
Things are different here, you soon find out, as evident of the statues strewn about your new residence.
Your “family” and “friends” worry about you for a while, as you get set in your new life.
It’s disorienting, but after a while you eventually manage to find stable ground to stand on for your new life.
The tides of life remain calm for what seems like a moment after that, before everything you thought you knew about this world comes crumbling down.
Rumors of an imposter who takes up “Their Grace’s” face begin to pop up.
It scares you, the way that everybody takes up arms and begins a manhunt for this person who, to you, hadn’t done anything at all.
As one of your neighbors shoves a pitchfork into your hands, you quickly stammer out an excuse about thieves coming and robbing houses if they all go, and you also offer to stand and look out for whoever the hell they’re trying to kill.
They buy it.
Only six hours have passed since that interaction, and you hear the shuffling of… something.
Opening the door to your humble abode, you find a person covered in blood and rags, bones broken and cuts all over their damaged body.
Your gazes interlock, and their eyes widen at the sight of you. One step, two steps, three steps back. They turn and begin to run, before their legs give in to their fatigue and they trip.
You approach them as one would a wounded animal, which is probably what they’ve been treated like. You’ve already put two and two together.
This is the so-called “imposter” that everyone’s looking for.
They let out a couple of whimpers, and they’re hyperventilating. They shuffle away from you on all fours.
When your shadow inevitably casts over their crawling figure, they turn and begin to earnestly plead. You can only feel pity in your heart as they do so.
“PLEASE,” They cry out, “DON’T-DON’T COME ANY CLOSER!” Their eyes begin to water. They look so scared, you think to yourself.
“please. just leave me alone…” They cover themselves up with their arms, hoping to alleviate at least some of the pain that comes their way.
When they realize that the pain doesn’t come, they come out of their shell slowly to face you.
In a random act of kindness, you decide to take them in, despite everyone else’s differing opinion on what you should do with or to them.
“Don’t worry,” you assure them, “I’m not going to hurt you.” You extend a hand out. “Can you stand?”
Wiping off tears of joy in their eyes, they take your hand and use your grip to pull themselves up. However, once they let go, they stumble to the ground, forcing you to pick them up and help to carry them.
“I don’t think we have time for names. But, I’ll try to at least feed you and give you some spare clothes.”
“O-ok….”
Once you make it to your residence, you sit them down and bring over a bowl of freshly heated potato soup. They devour it with fierce voracity, evident of how they’ve been mistreated. You also look around for anything that looks like it’ll fit and give it to them.
It’s a perfect match.
For the next about two months, life was pretty easygoing for the two of you. You hide them in a supply closet in your home when anyone would show up at the front door.
But they decide that it’s time for them to go. With a smile and a wave, you send them off on their journey, making sure that they have all their necessities on them.
Shortly after, another rumor- completely different from the one before it- spreads like a great wildfire.
The “imposter,” the one you had taken in and cared for, was actually the true creator all this time.
They’ve made a big speech about how they would destroy all of Teyvat for its sins against its creator, but they declare that they will not do this thanks to the sympathy and kindness of a certain individual.
That “certain individual?”
that’s you.
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WOOO IM BACK BABBBBYYYYY
anyway if yall wanna use this idea go ahead
I don’t get paid for this and you probably don’t either so go crazy with it
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r-g-d2 · 5 months ago
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Swap¡Prismo! Or better said..
-The Shadow-..!
SwapAu!!
2D dream projection design! and some more silly sketchs! (⁠✿⁠^⁠‿⁠^⁠)💛
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I ADORE drawing this guy- I SWEAR. Idk I just rlly love my design of him and some ideas I got when structuring the character! Idk I just- feel proud of him hshsh <'3 Is my fav from my Swap Au!! Aaaa!!
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A little bit of Pwish, why not? I've been wanting to draw PWish in this Au- SO BAD, and I founded the idea funny enough hshs
(pls tell me no one has done the same idea before w the og au pls pls)
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And other silly idea got in a Aggie with a friend LMAO!!!
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HELLOOOOOO!! Okay, So, today, before I probably die for a month once again around here, Im gonna let you this little Swap¡Prismo and Pwish post!!💛💛 (⁠人⁠*⁠´⁠∀⁠`⁠)⁠。⁠*゚⁠+ Since I've been rlly rlly wanting to draw them alone hshsh <333
well I might not be dead soon, now I remember that is june.. I might draw other thing KINDAA soon
Anyways all this idea of my Swap Au has come out thanks to them so— Of course I will be desiring to draw just them! heheh-
I took sm to draw Swap Pwish anyways! I know and I apologize for that 😔🙏 Dw that I'll try to draw them in this Swap Au all I can!! 💛💛✨ when I have time... I already have some mini comics and drawings Ideas I want to make! I just- need time like always...
Anyways! This drawings are kinda experimental?? :D Lets say that I tried to do my simple drawings more striking!(? call more the attention to them- yk make them more.. pretty to look at! <33 i think I rlly rlly like it but still will be improving this way to sketch trough time! (⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠) Anyways I would love to know if you like it! hshs if it does look more pretty!! (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡
ANYWAYS WROTE ENOUGH!!
Hope you looove this drawings! I honestly do! hshs
And see ya!! I hope that soon (⁠ʃ⁠ƪ⁠^⁠3⁠^⁠)
Byeee (⁠~⁠ ̄⁠³⁠ ̄⁠)⁠~
💛
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welcometohellfilm · 24 days ago
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Hi! I recently saw W2H2 part 1 and I must say it’s pretty amazing! Even better then the first one (which I loved btw), I know you anticipated that it wouldn’t have been full done, but I still wished the animation and the coloring were completed, like the first short. Nevertheless It has its charm anyway so good job, still amazing as always ! I just wanted to ask a few questions about Mephistopheles:
1) Is Mephistopheles actually capable of being evil and doing evil things as well ? Is he the type of guy that is usually pretty chill but can get REALLY angry if you piss him off? At the end of the first act, he said to Sock that he would fired him if he didn’t complete the job… did he mean literally “to fire him” (like burn or hurt him), or just meant “fired from the job” without causing him any harm? I am very curious about this character, I find him pretty charming and interesting! (I also love his character design)
2) How long will it be before the second and third parts of W2H2 release more or less (Months, years…)? And how long each part will be? Don’t wanna put preassure on you ofc , I’m just curious but I will be patient if that’s the case!
Thank you for this amazing little cartoon! I really love the plot and the characters and I look foward to see more! I hope you’ll reply soon and thank u again <33 (also sorry for my bad english but I am Italian eheh)
haha... yeah I'm getting that comment from a lot of people. But idk, when I look at the first short it looks pretty incomplete to me! Like to me, I think having better animation and less color is a decent trade-off, but I guess for a lot of people the color really did a lot of heavy-lifting. Anyway, I know it's a little disappointing, but my options were "call it good enough and post it", or "drive myself crazy working on it until I die", I know that sounds dramatic, and maybe I could've forced myself to finish at least throwing color on it, but I don't know, I didn't want to start resenting the thing I'm supposed to be passionate about. I kinda put myself between a rock and a hard place, didn't I? Sorry for the rant! I'm glad you enjoyed it anyway, haha. UHHH on to questions! 1. Mephistopheles is complicated. Or at least, I think he is, and I'm trying to figure out what that balance is. (I have an entire wordpad file full of notes/thoughts on Mephistopheles from one of my friends who's given a surprising amount of thought to the morality of the character that I'm gonna have to reference moving forward, haha). But as for my original thoughts on the character--- I don't consider him evil, but I think he's capable of doing things we would call 'evil', just like any human is. And like humans, he can be motivated by flawed, negative thoughts and feelings; spite, revenge, jealousy, whatever. But unlike humans he exists outside of space and time, and he's not a human himself, so his perception of morality is just different. The "you're fired" comment is meant to be a little confusing... like, you come to expect these stupid hell jokes from him, but then he clarifies "that wasn't a pun". And he's the devil, so maybe he's not joking. He COULD condemn Sock to hell. So that's the stakes of the story! If Meph is serious, Sock could be in a lot of trouble. We're not sure exactly how lenient he's going to be, or how trust-worthy he is. He's the devil! Toying with people is kind of his whole thing! haha. 2. It's not gonna' be another 10 years, that's for sure!!! Most of Part 2 is already rough animated (at least as much as Part 1 has been). There's still... one or two scenes that need more animation, and pretty much every shot of Shadow!Jonathan still needs to be done. It also needs more backgrounds, but there's FEWER backgrounds in Part 2 (Hell is just a re-usable Shadow-Realmy-y void), and a lot of the stuff from Jonathan's house can be re-used with different lighting. I'll have a better idea of the timeline once I sit down and crack it open again... and it's about to get kind of busy with the holidays and all, but it should be finished some time next year! Hopefully in the first half of 2025! I'll try to keep everyone posted. Anyway thanks for your questions! Hope this helped!
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normansnt · 9 months ago
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The prince pt.4
For @skyxqueen8 (:
Sorry it might be a bit short sorry for that but I think its good lemme know how you like it also SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT IMMA TRY AND BE FASTER🫡
Warnings: reader gets beaten up, mentions of Alastor torturing
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"Alastor I'll be fine, I truly don't want to bother you I see you're busy."
You tried your best to convince Alastor to let you go out alone. Now, usually he would, of course he knew how powerful you were you are the prince of hell after all, the fact that you don't like to use your powers doesn't hinder you much you use them when you're in danger.
But there have been headlines about you two dating. Vox's doing no doubt, and with the amount of people that Alastor managed to piss off during his years in hell it's really not safe for you out there.
"My dear, how could I ever be busy for you?" He asked baffled as he took a hold of your hand to stop you from leaving.
You turned around and gave him a quick kiss on his lips.
"My love, I will be just fine I can handle myself. I know the news has been full with us dating but to be fair that puts you in more danger than me, who wouldn't want to hold the kings son's lover for ransom?"
You argued back.
And you had a point, Alastor thought.
"Very well then, dear, however do not forget your radio remember you just turn it on and I shall be there as quick as possible."
You kissed him again and then smiled.
"Yes, I know"
He got you a pocket radio when he first saw the news. So whenever you need him you can just turn it to the channel you knew is his and hell be there in a second (idk lets just pretend).
You really weren't going out for anything special, you just wanted to get coffee with your dad like you do every week.
But the people who Alastor has pissed off didn't care much about where you were going they just wanted to make the fucker pay for what he has done. These were the sharks that Mimzy screwed over and Alastor had to clean her mess up. However during that clean up he kinda ate the boss's son and the boss was not please.
You could take on some annoying sharks really, but they attacked sudden. From the dark. While you were listening to music. So there really wasn't much you could do.
They showed you into an alley and started to beat you up with all sorts of junk they could find. You tried to reach the radio but when they showed you to the ground it broke.
This was when you decided to not play the part of helpless little prince waiting for his knight and used your powers to at least scare them away from you, you didn't have strength left to do anything else.
When you stood up, painfully, you reached for the pocket radio Alastor gave you, at least, for the parts of it.
"Fucking assholes" you liked that radio, you listened to Alastors podcast on it.
You knew you couldn't go see your dad in the state you were in you'd just worry him so you headed back home.
It was a hard journey with all the pain you were in but you managed.
You knew Alastor had things to do so you hoped he wouldn't be home. You didn't want to worry him.
"And who, pray tell, hurt my gorgeous little deer in such ways?" You heard the voice of your boyfriend from behind you as you entered your shared quarters.
"AHH, Fuck, Alastor I-I thought you wouldn't be-"
"Answer the question, please"
His voice was different. And as he exited from the shadows you saw that his voice was not the only thing different.
He wasn't smiling. He had a collected expression on his face, a terrifying calmness. You knew it wasn't directed at you.
He walked over to you and put his hand on your bloody cheek. He stroked your cheek with his thumb while you nestled into the warmness of his palm.
"You know those, sharks, that came here after Mimzy?" You asked him. His thumb stopped.
"Mimzy?" His voice was overly static barely audible.
"No, its not her-"
"I will be back soon" he said still overly static. And with that he left, not without leaving his shadow with you to patch you up.
"Shit" you mumbled. You wondered if you should have said anything.
Alastor's shadow made you sit down, and started tending to your wounds.
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You woke up at 3 am to the ruckus of Alastor coming into you guys's room.
"Alastor" you whispered.
He was bloody all over as he halted on his way to the bathroom.
"Why are you up, darling?" He asked.
You could hear the exhaustion in his voice.
"What happened."
"Ah-ah-ah dear, I asked the question first." He tried to make the situation lighter.
"Its hard to sleep when your boyfriend is out hell knows where or doing what." You answered with just a hint of anger in your voice.
You took a breath and sighed.
"Your turn"
"Well...dear I don't think you wish to hear the details I know you are not particularly fond of violence, lets just say, I have plenty of new voices for my broadcast, these are going to be longer sessions however, these filths are getting the extra special treatment."
He answered slowly, trying not to anger you further.
You were trying to keep up the strong facade but you just ended your falling into his arms mumbling how worried you were. He hugged you back tightly, holding you to his body.
"I'm sorry, my darling, no harm shall ever befall you under my eye again." He mumbled into your hair.
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In the following weeks all everyone could talk about was how the sessions on radio demons podcast have gotten hours long, just screams for hours, this has never happened someone must have really pissed him off. From then on, Alastor stayed true to his word, no one dared to lay a finger on you.
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scudslut · 8 months ago
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18+, mdni
s4!daryl x fem!reader
a/n: this is such a random drabbleish thing, idk. i just have so many feelings about s4 daryl and how angsty but all consuming it would be to be with him at that point, like my fucking god i’ll explode.
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sex is all it was — initially.
he didn’t even remember how it started if he was honest; one day finding himself thrusting all his burdens and frustrations into your supple, welcoming body.
it was an escape for the both of you, nothing more. somewhere to get lost for the lingering moments between life and death. leaving as soon as it was done and hardly speaking otherwise, if at all.
he wasn’t blind though. he knew it was more for you… something deeper than just an outlet for anger. solemn eyes tracking him around the prison searching for any sign of reciprocity. And he wasn’t void either. he felt the strings each time you were under him, or against him, whispering his name like a bedtime prayer to bind you two.
but there was a wall within him. one he built so tall and long ago he didn’t even remember the workings of. but any wall has its cracks and weakened points, and he found you knew them all somehow. had them mapped and jotted in your memory, poking them till they crumbled so he worked overtime fortifying. leaving you in the shadows for weeks at a time, with nothing but a glance towards you at most.
he couldn’t care — couldn’t let himself. there was too much on the line for not only him, but you. He didn’t want him for you, that wasn’t how it should be, but it seemed that the harder he pushed you away, the greater the fall was. finding you and slamming you against the nearest counter to be consumed by you. pent up so badly it honestly felt like he’d black out within the passion, the only thing keeping him lucid being the chants you sang softly. the eyes you gave him as he unloaded everything into you.
the longer it went on the worse it got, finding himself noticing the smaller details about you. the way sweat would build across the high points of your cheeks, glowing radiantly and flushed as he thrust slower. the way your hair would fall so perfectly around your shoulders and catch the light seeping in through the windows. and most of all, the way your voice lured him closer like the works of a siren, tone so soft and sultry as you praised him, his hands began to sweat.
he would turn you around, hoping the distant position would keep you unattached, or more so, him unattached. only to later begin tracing his eyes across your profile, over your jaw and neck while you gasped with closed eyes, eyelashes thick and wet from pleasured tears.
he was fucked, and he knew it. ran from it for so long he forgot what direction he was going and somehow circled back. and you were there as always, understanding him so fluently it was useless to hide. giving yourself to him so completely and vulnerably he had no choice but to give up.
he’d whimper as the new feelings washed over him, letting you soothe and pleasure him however you wanted, finally feeling the overwhelming understanding that all you wanted to do was take his pain and absorb it yourself. feel it for him so he could see he wasn’t alone. you’d keep him, and he’d keep you.
you wouldn’t push him. emotional exhaustion was prevalent in you both and finally a night was spent together, close but distant, open arms but lingering remnants of closed-off barricades. it wasn’t simple for him, or you for that matter. it was a new map being drawn and completely new territory he’d never dipped a toe in before.
and the next time it wasn’t uncontrollable passion against any counters. it was shaky fingers unbuttoning his vest while he tried to control his breathing. eyes darting all over your body, unsure but starving and trying to trust. slow and deliberate hands would take him in, all of him, gentle and curious, learning him in a way no one had before. a way he’d never let anyone one.
he never felt like he had been lost until he was with you. you saw him. accepted him without even batting an eye like it was the most natural and obvious thing to do. years he had shut every ounce of sympathy and companionship away, scarred from all the bad he had seen people do, it was jarring to realize there were people who simply loved to love, that you loved him just because he was him. and he knew now he wouldn’t go back. he wouldn’t shut you out anymore because he loved you just the same.
he would always circle back to you.
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pygmi-cygni · 3 months ago
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Skincare - Blue Jones
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(I can't keep using gifs on my fics because I end up just staring at them for hours)
mentions of acne, allusions to assault but is not explicit and nothing happens, reader is female. fluff? hurt/comfort? idk the weird softness that Blue exudes while also being an oily bastard?
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It felt good to wash away the layers of makeup and grease and other men. As a young girl, before coming to Blue's, you'd struggled with oily skin. Throughout your months at the club, you'd snitched and pilfered sample-size creams from the studio bags.
They were the only personal possessions you had.
You grabbed your secret stash and tiptoed out of the room, dashing into the bathroom and quietly locking the door. You couldn't turn the lights on, but you could flick on a lighter. It was Sweet Pea's; green and shimmery. A cheap thing but it would do.
Spine tingling with anxiety, you turned on the tap just enough to let a trickle of water out, but not enough to make a sound. As soon as the cool water touched your flushed cheeks, you sighed.
It felt fucking great.
Quickly you washed off the first layer, stripped your lashes and scrubbed the glitter and rhinestones from your cheeks. The foundation and eyeshadow was set like plaster, and you squeezed a small dollop of cleanser into your palm.
It was soothing. A calm routine done in the quiet solitude of your dressing room. You never had time alone, even in bed. Seven girls to a room didn't allow for private time.
Curfew had passed quite a while ago. Usually you didn't go out late, but Tiffany took so fucking long taking out her bobby pins that you had no choice.
The pleasant smell of vanilla softened the tension in your shoulders. The anxiety of breaking the rules was fading.
Creak.
The comb in your hands dropped into the sink, making you shriek. Clapping a hand over your mouth, you muffled a sob.
"Don't stop on my account."
The roar of blood in your ears was deafening. Panic flared through every nerve ending, filling your veins with fire and your heart galloping.
You should have waited. You should have been patient and waited till midnight when he went to bed and now you were thoroughly Fucked with a capital F.
A tiny whimper left your lips, face still frozen in terror. A snicker came out of the dark.
Where was he? How had you not noticed a grown man in the bathroom?
Blue was slouched against the wall, shirt unbuttoned and tie hung haphazardly around his neck. He'd clearly been there a while. Why hadn't he said anything?
Your reflection was statuesque. Amused, Blue pushed himself to his feet and rolled his shoulders. The lazy smirk that made oily contempt ooze down your back was shadowed in the flickering light. His beady eyes roved over you, a frown twisting his lips.
"I thought I told you to continue," he said, eyebrow peaked in a challenge.
You fought through waves of fear to slowly pick up the comb and swallow, still making eye contact in the mirror. No gun was in his holster, and he didn't carry knives. Still, he was a man who could hurt you. Best to do what he says.
The soft shff shff of your hair was the only sound over your thudding heart. The tiny vial of oil shook in your grasp as you dabbed it on your scalp.
"What's that?"
His soft but firm voice broke the tense silence again. Words stuck in your throat. This was wrong this was so bad oh my god-
"O-oil," you stammered, voice bare above a whisper. "It helps my hair grow."
Blue made no acknowledgement of your voice, still enraptured with your movements. Assuming the coast was clear, you brought the brush back to your locks and continued the long, methodical strokes.
In an instant, his hand was at your wrist. You eeped and flinched away. The trap had snapped shut over you, and you didn't have any sharp objects in sight. your nightgown was too short and you didn't have a knife and his hands were large and strong and there was nobody to hear you and and and
"Let me do it," he murmured, kohl-lined eyes glittering with something dangerous. You had no choice but to loosen your grip on the brush, hands sweating profusely. He dropped your wrist and you hugged it to your chest, folding in half as a last measure of protection.
"Stop flinching," he huffed, "I'm not gonna hurt you. It'd be fuckin stupid, seeing as I'd lose the money."
The reassurance meant nothing, as you'd seen him kiss a girl on the mouth before cracking his palm across her cheek. It felt like being a lamb lead to slaughter.
He paused, brush held over your scalp. He'd been watching your entire process, but he wasn't sure where to start.
"Start in the middle," you whispered, shakily gesturing to your hair. "Go d-downwards."
Blue tentatively placed his hand over your head and dragged the brush downwards. You held back a twitch when he tugged at a knot. don't move don't move fuck fuck don't move
His pinky ring was cold against your cheek as he held your chin in place. The brush ran through the same spot again and again, making your shiver. Blue paused again, observing you. He ran his hand down the length of your waves, feeling the smoothness.
"That's good," you said, daring to meet his eyes. He tossed you an impatient glance and continued petting.
"I know how to brush your goddamn hair." The familiar biting tone was back, and your ears burned. Blue's brow was set in concentration, slowly making his way around your head. He was, truthfully, pretty good at it. Not that it was hard, but you were relieved he hadn't tried to rip off your scalp.
His other hand kept softly stroking your hair, running the ends through his fingers.
"Soft," he grunted, almost to himself. "Why's it not like this while you're working?"
"The hairspray makes it sticky."
He inclined his chin. The brush had stopped, and both hands were buried in your hair. The oil had softened it considerably, and he was utterly absorbed in the silkiness.
It felt...nice. His hands, usually mid-slap, were gentle and soothing. You'd stopped questioning why he was being kind or why he was even in the room.
Sweet Pea's lighter was running out of fluid. Your eyes were heavy and you needed to go to bed.
"Why...why were you in here?" you asked around a yawn. Sleepiness had removed any reserved fear and loosened your tongue.
"If you need to know," he said airily, "I needed my cock sucked and there were a few girls in here already. Took a while getting up, not like it's your business."
That snapped you back to reality and you lurched away, heartbeat going from zero to sixty. Blue tsked.
"I told you to stop fuckin' moving, I'm not done yet." His hands were traveling over your face and neck. The cleansers had left your cheeks dewy and shining. He spent a notable amount of time tracing the pink pocks around your chin.
"What's this?"
You didn't want to look at him. "Acne," you mumbled. "It's not bad though, you can't see it onstage," you rushed to add, trying to cover up the crime. Any imperfections onstage were unacceptable.
He looked at you shrewdly. "Does it hurt?"
"No."
"Hm." He stroked your cheek, eyes lidded. You noticed he still had his makeup up; the shimmery liner caked on his waterline.
"Blue," you whispered, "do...do you want to take your makeup off?"
He froze and stared at you. Your eyes were wide, timid. Had you overstepped? He was fine a second ago-
"I...I don't know how," he responded stiffly. You swallowed the lump in your throat.
"I can show you."
At your urging, he took a seat on the counter, brow twitching as he tried to get comfortable. You pulled up a rickety chair and stood on it. "I need to wipe off the thick stuff first," you warned, gently taking his chin in your hand.
Blue was like a puppy as soon as your fingertips brushed his skin. You wondered if he'd ever been touched outside of sex. He craved it - shifting towards you until his thighs brushed yours. Blue leaned into your palm, eyes closed and lips slack. You turned his head left and right and he didn't move, almost melting forward spinelessly. As an experiment, you rubbed your thumb over his cheek.
He sighed, eyes glazing over. A flush had covered his cheeks, rosy like a little boy's.
His brown eyes were hazy. Long, dark lashes fanned on his cheek, and for a moment, he looked like a normal man. Skin clear, brow smooth. Not so scary.
You quietly explained the process, rubbing an oil into his pores before massaging a foamy substance around his nose and mouth. He liked that part, mustache twitching at the ticklish sensation.
It was weird to be in control. Here was the product of your nightmares, preening into your touch like a kitten. You drew it out, admiring his soft gaze and slight smile. His skin was soft but stubbly where he needed to shave.
"All done," you whispered, lowering yourself from the chair.
Blue sat, quietly, unaware you'd moved. You watched him amusedly, blinking sleepily at the dark room.
Until his eyes fluttered awake and he frowned. uh oh.
"More," he snapped, grabbing your hand and bringing it to his cheek. Surprised, you tripped, and he dragged you onto his lap. His faint musk mixed with the light florals of your products and you inhaled deeply. He smelled nice.
You resumed stroking his face, bringing another hand up to pet his hair. Pleased, Blue settled again. He was like a cat, you realized fondly. A big, fussy cat.
A warm, calm silence blanketed you both. The lighter had gone out and the room was engulfed in darkness. Blue tensed - was he scared of the dark? - and you hummed into his shoulder. The soft vibration soothed him. His skin was warm and soft. You slowly removed your hands from his hair and murmured reassurances when he huffed in dissent. Your hands found his and pulled the rings off of his fingers.
Blue grunted, retracting from your grip.
'It's okay, I won't take them," you whispered, squeezing his hand gently. After a moment, he relented, and you massaged his empty hands. His palms were calloused and gritty from work. Your smaller ones traced the veins on the back of his hand.
Your cheek was pressed against his sternum, and a weight dropped on your shoulder. His head, you assumed, finally overcome with exhaustion. You were, essentially, trapped, tucked in his lap with your back to the door and his legs folded around you. It was...not the most comfortable, but you prevailed.
Your fingers laced with his and you pressed your nose into his shirt, inhaling deeply. It was nice to be held. Without the expectation of something else, or the assumption that it was all for cash. Just...existing, in a quiet little room where nothing but the beat of your hearts could be heard.
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i honestly don't know what this was i just woke up with the Need to write it.
comment if you wanna join my taglist have a good dayyy xox
@krakenkitty
taglist! comment to join
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vxiphoid · 1 year ago
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PIXELATED ZEN
❨ summary ❩ genshin › genshin men playing minecraft with you ((ft. alhaitham, itto, cyno, diluc, kazuha, kaeya, heizou, & xiao))
tags ✧ modern au, drabble, fluff, chaotic energy, not proofread, cursing, ooc(?), established relationship, gn!reader, kaeya sets a forest on fire, alhaitham does not appreciate bees, mentions of pixelated deaths
amanuensis’ message ⊹ IM NOT TRYING TO KILL MY OTHER FANDOMS I SWEAR… im gonna back up from twst for a bit (im literally posting scarabia soon.) you can clearly tell who my favorites are… this unlocked a whole different part of my brain holy shit im deceased
⌜200+ e/chara ⌟
♫ blossom - t. shan
genshin masterlist
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ALHAITHAM
╰┈➤ tbh he thinks minecraft is stupid, i mean, why not read a book instead of burning the images of pixels into your eye sockets😒 yeah, he’d just rather books. its a game about blocks, what could possibly be so interesting? he will admit the music is… nice. its nostalgic even though he’s never heard the track before. his favorite animals are the axolotl idk they’re his little pookies. its their little stick arms, they look so silly… as soon as haitham found out that you could color things its over, he make some sweet things like putting a sign on top of your shared house with both initials with colored dye. he’s so happy, just not very vocal about it, but he has the smallest of smiles. he definitely has headphones with the crochet sprout on it omg😭 alhaitham does not like bees whatsoever, they stung him for trying to get food. he just wanted honey :[
“look, the dog’s collar is blue. and the sign’s letters are green and then if you add a glow squid’s ink, it lights up.”
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ARATAKI ITTO
╰┈➤ he has waited YEARS for someone to play minecraft with him omfg. certified snack hoarder for times like these. you both literally hit each other to show love, you’ve accidentally killed him once bc he didn’t tell you that he had like half a heart… itto likes the water, hates the guardians because who do you think you are attacking him out of nowhere??? gets one shotted by the elder guardian while trying to fight it with a stick and then blames it on magma blocks pulling him down. GAMING WITH HIM IS NEVER CALM GODS💀 you cannot lay on him or anything bc as soon as those cave sounds or disc 13 start playing, he’s already done sprung out of his seat. his screams are actually really funny though, you got him a cat from how much he’s been assaulted by creepers. when you introduced him to shaders, he was so in awe. “babe i have a shadow!” type of excitement JAKEJEJDMnda.
“the cat’s name is sir arataki the third, you are now my loyal guard cat. who’s an adorable little guy?”
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CYNO
╰┈➤ look at this nerd (affectionate), ofc he plays cubecraft. loved it so much that when he didn’t have the actual game, he would play the really bad knockoffs💀 plays on console so you can sit between his legs, lean back, and game with him. cyno hate the split screen because he always gets confused on what side he’s on so he lets you use his switch, that way you’re both still comfortable. he’s more of an explorer if you do get mod packs for him, likes the horror ones the most. there’s nothing like hitting the enemy or shit talking the thing that could potentially one shot you with your s/o‼️ yall crouch a lot, its like a little dance. he really likes the disc “far” it itches his brain in the right way. definitely downloads the little raccoon mobs but then regrets it because he gives up all his berries to them, look at their little begging arms, literally how can you say no to that?? AND THEY WASH THE BERRIES. you both fall asleep to the ambience and to each others breathing all cuddled up ‘n warm. cyno absentmindedly sings the music while chopping wood or mining that shit has you SLUMPED. he kisses your head when you fall asleep, smiling like a silly goober.
“do-do-do-do do-do-do-do do, neow neow neow nneow neeeowwww… huh? oh, i’m almost done then we can go to bed, yeah? i’ll charge the switch too, don’t worry. just rest.”
(he’s singing that one part in danny lmfao)
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DILUC
╰┈➤ diluc does not understand the concept of minecraft but its okay, he’s just happy to be here. he also doesn’t call it minecraft but “cave game”, the original name, he did his research though it is rare that he actually calls it minecraft. found out that you could breed animals and accidentally made a pack of wolves. diluc is really good with redstone its actually insane😭 he’s the type to protect you the whole time while you’re getting flowers for the house, boyfriend bodyguard. diluc doesn’t play much because of his job but when he does, he’s prepared to sit for hours and spend time with you :(. these are the times where he’s most affectionate, randomly kissing your cheek, getting water for the both of you before you play, etc. luc loves the mod pack “industrial”, he can build machines, how neat is that??? also it has way more OMFP with the added features it has yk? he likes the trains :D
“is the water running…? the water’s running, they have moving windmills!”
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KAEDEHARA KAZUHA
╰┈➤ kazuha has the most expensive equipment yet doesn’t use this shit half of the time unless he’s streaming with heizou??? like im talking msi infinite rs pc, multiple monitors, a graphic drawing tablet, headphones with immaculate sound quality AND!!! the ear cups have fucking cyberpunk 3d wing guards on them. but anyways, minecraft, yes, he plays. in fact, kaedehara has about 10 beaten hardcore worlds every time a new update comes out, he must beat the game again. he rarely plays minecraft without his shaders so when you want to play the original og minecraft, he doesn’t mind, he actually enjoys the nostalgia. so much so the music is actually his background music when he’s just lazing around. words cannot express how much he dislikes (hates) wardens omg. he’ll protect you from them but if there were diamonds behind a warden, ig he’s going somewhere else😭 kazuha gives you random shit, weather that be something really sweet or questionable…
“love, do you want my rotten flesh? here<3 oh! and, i also got you some steak, you’re low on hearts…”
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KAEYA
╰┈➤ he’s heard of it, watched people play, just never played it. but when he does… he’s a menace. kaeya got his hands on flint and steel and set an entire jungle on fire… but he can be sweet sometimes! you’re the one protecting his ass while he walks around at night UNARMED to gather blue flowers for you. like you’re cute, but take a shield or something😭 he’s jumped off of a tall building before and landed on half a heart for a stack of bread you didn’t want. he’s rather oblivious to the mobs around him, he once thought shulkers were friends because they were just “silly little guys in little boxes” yk until they almost killed him. you bought him his own skin and introduced him to parrots and now its his favorite animal, he looks like a pirate!!! kaeya is chaotically sweet.
“yes, you almost died protecting me but how could you resist my everlasting love plus pixelated blue flowers?”
(has a cat unironically named ice spice LMFAO)
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SHIKANOIN HEIZOU
╰┈➤ your boyfriend is good at literally anything else BUT minecraft. its the way this game constantly has it out for him too like what did bro do??🙁 heizou stream’s with kazuha every now and again and on those, he still doesn’t know what to do… he’d rather play on the servers, bedwars in particular. extremely good at bw, you’d rather NOT be his enemy😭😭 wins almost every single game even when he carries, rank 98 in the server. yet when it comes to a casual server between you and him, the chats are filled with his deaths and his hashtagged rages💀 heizou despises silverfish which is also why he hates going into strongholds, they could get stomped on for all he cares! >:( he has texture packs with really beautiful skies and then a picnic mod so he can stargaze with you and eats minecraft cake :(<3
“oh. babe, green is heading for our bed, no pressure or anything. i loovveee youuu😚”
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XIAO
╰┈➤ xiao has the MOST downloaded mod packs, shaders, and worlds. not very expensive mod packs most of the time but when they are, they’re always good. spends his time fighting off mobs at night, #1 totem holder. he even has his own custom skin!!! he’s kinda been waiting for you to ask so when you do play mc together, you already have your own room, but when you voluntarily move your bed into his room to sleep… he melts. xiao loves cuddling while the two of you play, he’d rather your arms around him than the other way around, feels more intimate. you have matching hoodies for occasions like this. he has the dragon mod pack and has his own golden and orange dragon named ‘li’. he doesn’t talk while gaming, curses silently when he gets hit, but other than that doesn’t talk. if you want to talk, he’ll listen, he likes hearing about your day :].
“no, keep talking. i’m listening. see, li’s listening too.”
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