#tag rant again

[tryingtimi]

45 for the spotty ask game!

@bloodlessheirbyjacques <3

Hôtel du Soleil Couchant

The song that I could listen to for a thousand years without getting tired of it. Also, the sole inspiration for Selys's whole backstory lol. Anyway, here's a little more Selys x Léon with a kinda rushed ending. Bear with my tired brain please.

Tiny Context: Selys's backtstory will build around this vampire hotel where mortals get trapped. (no specifics yet) That's where he meets Léon (faceclaim in the border), the mortal who'll steal his heart.

DYNAMIC EXPLORATION | FLUFF AND ANGST I GUESS | WC: 1,504

The Biessean wind burned through the hotel’s poolside, bright sunshine glowing on the lounging folks and illuminating their form like petroleum a room. Besides three or four warmbloods, there wasn’t much of a crowd on the sunbeds. Instead, the tumult resided in the shadowed passage that occupied a big chunk of the curving, tiled pool. The hotel’s own troupe performers mingled with other guests, some staff members active among them, too. Continuous conversations and the soft rock on the radio crittered in the warm winter air. Selys paid only half a mind to them under the artificial shade far beside the water. He gently grazed his sharp nails along Léon’s umber skin, enjoying the goosebumps that trailed the touch. 

“You're a tease,” Léon scoffed in a purring voice. He turned his head towards him, the short coils of his dark hair tickling Selys’s exposed chest between the half-opened shirt. 

The vampire kept grazing his arm. He revelled in the warmness of Léon’s body pressed to his, the Biessean fever nothing compared to the sensation. Selys found the weather’s temperature insignificant, lacking the senses to shiver in cold or shed a drop of sweat. Besides feeding, only another being could bring him the phenomenon of heat again. 

Selys slowly drew his nails up on his shoulder, through his neck where fingertips glided over Léon’s sweetly throbbing artery, only to roll some of the midnight ringlets over his forefinger. 

Léon hummed with a half-smile. “Don’t go existential on me now, mon cher.”  

“I’m not,” Selys chuckled, burying his finger in his hair. “I have no quarrel with life when you’re in my arms like this.” 

A mischief-fueled curve tugged upward Léon’s lips, Selys’s ghost touch running through the thin darkening of coming stubble over them. He gently bit on the pale finger, releasing it when Selys pulled it away. 

“Perhaps, but you are drifting. Otherwise, you would have remembered that this old man devotion didn’t rub on me yet.”

“I am old, my sweet. How do you wish me to speak to you?”

The placid look on Léon’s face brightened by the gentle light in his onyx eyes. It was a seriousness that framed his curiosity, and his unshakable life-loving that made him immune to the fact of Selys’s true nature. Or the casually frightening span of his existence. 

Léon blinked up at him, thoughtful, the scent of chlorine omitting from his figure. “No different, I suppose. It was just a simple reminder. But,” he said, turning back to the pool then snuggling higher on Selys’s front, freckled, evenly throbbing neck in close proximity. “I’d appreciate it if you’d talk more about what you’re ruminating on all the time.” 

“I was under the impression that you didn’t want me to be existential.”

“Now I do.” Selys could feel Léon’s smile when he himself chuckled again. “If that’s all you’ve got, then go ahead. Talk to me, mon cher.” 

“You’re so fond of mere words.” 

Selys brought his sharp nose to his jawline, the pool’s and Léon’s own scent intoxicating like one too many glasses of fine wine. He enclosed him in his embrace, enveloping the sinewy body with his.

Once, Selys kept mortal lovers for this — the pulsating warmness that enthusiastic veins could conjure only. A meat blanket that could provide what he lacked, and missed occasionally. 

He could keep them replaceable; up until Léon showed. 

Selys licked at the tempting, painfully tantalising neck. The taste of the pool was sour on his tongue, and the urge to sink his fangs into the flesh clicketing in the back of his mind. It was always there, but Selys did not care. He’d have rather starved for a thousand years than to feel the warmth of Léon’s blood in his throat. 

But, he nibbled on other’s neck, licking and sometimes poking his skin with fangs without barely even touching flesh, just to make him giggle. And he let him — without an inch of alarm, Léon slightly rolled his head to the side, giving way to Selys’s whims. It was an innocent love affair to tease what one couldn’t have, a serene play Léon taught him to cherish.

“I can’t read minds, mon cher, so words are all I have.” 

“That, I still doubt.” No one could know so precisely, or trust so fully in Selys without invading his mind. Even those who did had never left their guard down. 

“Hm, well.” Léon hummed along to the music on the radio. “You’re right. I can also dance and do acrobatics. Which are not much help in learning what is playing over in your pretty white head.”

Selys chuckled into the sensitive spot behind Léon’s ear. Half-opened eyes watched his pale arms around the beautiful amber boy underneath. His bleached skin looked like a cage built from bones compared to the mortal lover, yet Léon was far from a prisoner. He’d absorbed the laughters, the tears, the awes, the horrors, the celebrations and the struggles. He rode the freeness of his finite existence, fully embracing the mortality of the ever-passing time. Out here in the semi-calmness, or on the roaring stage — everywhere he went, he’d been the only one that truly coloured the world with life. 

Selys pulled the slowly dozing off Léon closer. 

“You are. That’s what’s playing in my head; your performances, your interactions with others, your routines before bed. I am unable to ruminate on my dreary existence anymore because you’ve tainted it with hope and fondness for all the living. So, excuse me my crudeness, but shame on you, my sweet,” Selys whispered in his ear, and finally earned a throaty laughter. The sound brought some gazes towards them from the crowd, yet Selys kept ignoring their surroundings. 

Until a soft tug on his thoughts made him freeze.

A most subtle sensation, a phantom stir, really — but an unmistakable change, nevertheless. Like a soft, morning haze, it came to blanket his mind in a momentary disorientation. Then, a silk of a voice tickled alive within his skull. 

“I, too, always favoured playing with the meal.” 

Selys’s body ran colder than before, and he dragged the sudden dread into a corner where she wouldn’t find it. His eyes flicked towards the crowd, the glinting eyes of his peers smug among the tumult. Their wordless hunt echoed in their sparsely joined mindfield.��

“But you should be careful, my darling,” her voice prickled within his ears. “They spoil fast.”

The gathering around the pool morphed before Selys’s eyes, the silhouettes — every staff member — that shouldn’t have been outside in the day sharp and wicked. The shade that had been put all over now revealed to be an oily darkness, an unearthly creation that deceived the rest. His peers’ gazes were on the prey, while they were also on him. 

On him, and the man between his arms. 

The unending hunger set alight in Selys’s insides tenfold, urging him to feast and devour. It wasn’t his blight only, but the mob’s, all pushed down his throat to make him submit; to warn him. He forced his jaw to relax before he’d pierce flesh inside his mouth. “Worry not, my lady. I’m only savouring, but my attention is set. I have not forgotten my duty.” 

A pause, while the craving built and built, sharp nails itching to puncture the inviting, deliciously pulsing vein on Léon’s lean arm. Through gritted teeth, Selys inhaled the sweet-candy scent of his hidden blood. 

“I believe you.” 

The sensation released its grip, leaving him without air for a moment. The presence lingered in his mind, but only so much like a small slit in an almost closed door. He could still sense the others’s eyes, and their search, their seduction. They were hungry for the troupe, the guests — Léon, too. 

Selys flicked his gaze at the crowd, releasing a telepathic grip towards them much like his Lady’s. Those who were around him tended to forget the years he had behind him — and the power he claimed by them. 

“He’s mine,” Selys hissed, venom lacing his words. 

His peers stiffened in body and shrieked in mind. His Lady once said he had a talent for finding the mortal in their kind; the last bit of desires, longings, fragile feelings. He knew she was right. And that was how he twisted those around them to their knees. 

Selys knew it was time to release Léon. To drift back to his original objective, yet he did not plan to leave him on his own. To leave him to the mongrels of a hotel that was built to trap his kind. 

Many of Selys’s peers excused themselves, others falling deathly silent on their conversational partners. With cold, hard grief and the anger of a caged animal, he gripped them harder, cracking their minds, and squeezing their hearts. All the predators around them quieted, and through their link, they begged in unison.

In the distant haze of his mind, Selys felt the thrilled approvment of his Lady. 

[acid-ixx]

a loving family, an unpalatable desire

— masterlist !

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

a/n: would anyone hear me out if i ever wrote romantic yan! bruce (ft. platonic yan! batfam AND romantic yan clark kent alongside the superfam ofc) with a neglected spouse reader... because uhm, i've been thinking about it lately just yk... so anyways PLSPLSPLS send in asks about this, ive been thinking about it so much lately.

imagine wanting to raise a family so badly with a man who adopts problem children as a side hustle. you're not some invasive spouse, you've always been good, always been loving, so... so accepting, never questioned where or how he picked them up from the side of the streets, never once complaining about the hickeys on his neck or the once neat tussles of his hair now tangled accompanying lipstick stains on his white suit.

you love your children, you tell yourself all the time. you love them, you love bruce— even if he doesn't love you. you said it in your vows, despite it being scripted, despite your family finally sighing in relief in the sidelines at finally being able to sell you off to one of the wealthiest man in the world, rather than being wasting off under their care— your vows are real.

you wanted someone to love you, unconditionally, so viscerally eternal that it eats you up.

really, all you wanted was to play that fantasy life of trophy house spouses. all you wished for was a loving, healthy relationship. the american dream: the picture perfect family frames, your husband kissing you on the cheek as he leaves for work, your children bickering at the dining room, with the scent of homemade meals wafting about the vicinity. all you wanted was the warmth in your chest to flicker like candlelights. all you dreamed about was that domestic life, an escape from the abusive household you were raised in.

yet the manor is too cold, too unforgiving for a soul such as yours.

the longer you stay inside claustrophobic, yet oh-so large hallways, the quicker you drown in a neverending pool of self-hatred.

but you're not allowed to show them your sufferings. they've been through much worse, you tell yourself. they've suffered more, and as what good spouses do, as what you're taught, you stay silent, enabling them to turn you into their own emotional punching bag.

you only allow yourself to cry at the dead of the night, under the sheets of your too-cold blanket and your too-hot pillows. when the manor is filled with deathly silence and a looming sense of dread and ill fitting thoughts of ifs and when they'll come back in one piece, will you grant yourself temporary respite; worry for a family who never even called you their parent.

yet you've always been so considerate. despite the pang in your chest every time bruce flirts with anymore potential love interest at a gala, you chose to instead monitor your chaotic children, who have always never bat an eye on you despite you always gazing lovingly at them.

you know of their interests, they don't know yours, yet you still give them extravagant gifts on their birthdays, with tired, yet glinting eyes, and a silent excuse to return to your room; one separate from bruce.

you know of bruce's hardships, but you don't push too hard, don't force him to talk, only provide him your silence and an offer to serve him dinner; all the time he refuses without looking at you. you give him comfort only if he ever allows you, only if he allows his walls to crumble— but not even his spouse can amount to a warm, crackling fireplace. to him, you're probably only a matchstick under the deadbeat glaze of the snow in a winter night.

maybe that's why you're such a ghost in the manor, stalking through the hallways, looking out for any of your children in case they come across you with any injuries. maybe that's why eventually your resolve weakened.

and maybe the absence of familial love led you to find comfort in another man's arm.

''til death do us part,' is such a tragic saying in your case, because you know it in your fragile heart that bruce's love for you was never alive in the first place. and yet you allow him to play you like a fiddle, allow him to slowly allow you to slip away from his nonexistent grasp.

and now, you're a stand-in parent for clark's son, jon, after the tragic loss of his wife. now, your world seems a lot less bleaker, as you play the fantasy of a loving house spouse, fully abandoning the life you left behind, a life you've never been gifted with until now. you want to feel guilty, you want to feel absolutely terrible but the heartache of neglect has become too much and all you do was allow clark to warm you up each night, kissing away your tears and spooning your deep-seated anxieties away.

you don't let the past eat you up, not when the present is too perfect, too freeing, too delusionally beautiful.

your son, jon provides you every joy a parent could have. parent's day gifts, heartfelt letters at every nook and cranny of your shared bedroom with clark— even reading him bedtime stories, allowing him to sleep in your lap after he slowly nods off, with clark knocking softly on polished wooden doors, greeting you with a loving kiss on the lips and a bouquet of your favorite flowers in hand—

it's everything a parent wants, needs even.

and you're everything clark, and especially jon wants, needs in their life.

so it's such a stupid mistake, really. a slip of the tongue, a too-enthusiastic smile, incredibly bright, shining eyes. it's not jon's fault, you still love him either way. but it's an error still— one a complicated matter at hand, so dreadful for you, that jon accidentally, all-too-suddenly, mentions you as his parent to damian.

a loving, wonderful parent, he says, with a picture of you in his wallet shoved right in front of his friend's face.

[rosvosektori]

fiery steps

[sameboot]

Simon petrikov coping FAIL compilation

[evilherehotel]

beach episode

man it has been a MINUTE since ive drawn basketone huh

[arcanegifs]

Here are some Season 2 Arcane GIF comparisons before and after I color and sharpen them! | Season 1 Comparison GIFs

[royalarchivist]

Pac: …I miss Morning Crew. Man, I really do.

Pac: If there's something I think about that's really cool, it's how Philza and Fit are Minecraft legends in other countries, you know? Fit is a legend in the United States because he's a pro-player from the craziest SMP in the world, and Philza is simply a Minecraft icon in Europe! And I got to meet them, I played with them, and I think it's really cool. I was lucky, there's no denying it.

[Later]

Pac: Guys, I'm still dumbfounded! I can't stop thinking about how… The British guy who's friends with my American boyfriend sent me a raid. You get how crazy that is? [Laughs] How crazy is that!

[ Full Subtitle Transcript ↓ ]

—

SUBTITLE TRANSCRIPT

Pac: Guys, this here is unbelievable. Man, this is unbelievable. [Looks at chat] I'm VIP! I'm VIP in his chat!!! I'm VIP in Felipe Minecraft's chat!

Pac: Guys, why are they in England?

Pac: [Reading chat] "Say hi" I'm low-profile. I'm a lurker! I'm just a lurker. I'm not going to send that– No! They're responding to chat, talking to the guys, I'm just going to observe. Fit's voice sounds different, huh?

Phil: [Reading Chat] "Pac is watching." Why are you fcking doxxing our friends?

Pac: HEY HEY HEY! What is this?! What- hey! [Covers his mouth] Man, why– [Laughs and covers his mouth] You guys told them I'm watching!

Pac: I'm not going to say anything except "Hi" [Laughs]

Pac: [Copying Fit] Calma, calma, calma!

Pac: [Laughs] They're talking about Ao3! Ah, I arrived at a good time, I always wanted to know Fit's opinion about this– [Laughs]

Pac: I'm going back, I'm leaving- I'm going to leave them be, but it's really cool seeing the two of them together, huh Chat? What a joy, it's crazy. Crazy, crazy, crazy. I wish I was there! [Laughs] I couldn't believe that F– Well, yeah. Wow, I was actually nervous guys. And I didn't know I was a VIP there! …I miss Morning Crew. Man, I really do.

Pac: If there's something I think about that's really cool, it's how Philza and Fit are Minecraft legends in other- in other countries, you know? Fit is a legend in the United States because he's a pro-player from the craziest SMP in the world, and Philza is simply a Minecraft icon in Europe! And I got to meet them, I played with them, and I think it's really cool. I feel really wild sometimes, because… It was really crazy, right? It's really cool. I was lucky, I was lucky. I was lucky, there's no denying it.

Pac: [Reading chat] "And you are [an icon] in Brazil" Ah, yeah. But– I don't know! It's just that I never had another perspective you know? I never got that other perspective, right? I don't know how to explain, I think you get it.

Pac: Guys, will Philza and Fit do another stream like this? Does Philza save his VODs? Just to know.

Pac: Guys, I'm still dumbfounded! I can't stop thinking about how… The British guy who's friends with my American boyfriend sent me a raid. You get how crazy that is? [Laughs] How crazy is that! [Laughs]

[lakesidepurple]

if you think bakugo is the possessive/jealous one between bakudeku are we even consuming the same piece of media. firstly deku is SHOWN to be weirdly possessive over bakugou for honestly no canonical reason. secondly he spent like 12 years with no friends at all and having to watch bakugou be friends with other people. if that doesn't make him possessive idk what will

[wolfram-but-art]

some recent sketches i did without context

[darlinglute]

i think it's extremely fun to pair rook and solas together in any regard, no matter if he previously was being romanced because as clear narrative foils, having an enemies to lovers (and in tandem, bitch4bitch, hater x hater) dynamic feeds into that delicious 'whenever I see you I see myself and I hate that' and 'you are everything I hate about myself' soup.

I once saw a post with a collection of quotes that had this certain vibe, in the 'you and I are the same' (negative) way. if i had a quote to represent them it would be:

so shipping them feels very complex and interesting to think about, because, like in that one dialogue

(first of all, like c'mon) furthermore it's the cycle. rook is to solas what solas was to elgar'nan, there are several times in the game, especially the end, where they can see each other in each other. even if you dont see it in a shipping lenses (which you dont have to!) this is a juicy story.

moreover, at the end of the game if rook outwits solas by giving him the fake ritual dagger, solas not only recognizes that he was out played by 'wits alone' he also says that he's met his match. this mimics the several stories of fen'harel who uses his wits, wisdom etc to get out of a situation

(example: the story of fen'harel, andruil and anaris, solas goading them both into fighting each other so he could get out paralleling solas making rook fight the gods and in addition a thousand other enemies in order to get himself enough time to get out of the fade prison without rook getting ahead of it)

the betrayal too, i don't have much to say that hasn't been said already about the prison switcheroo, (evokes solas's betrayal of felassan yada yada) other then it's really tasty.

[torglives]

can i stand up and say that ros AND yellow are completely irredeemable from lukeys pov or will the audience not like that one. because it’s honestly just been something that’s been bothering me a little bit. the way they talk about him like he’s less than human gets under my skin. can i just rant for a minute. is this okay with everyone.

like imagine you’re thrown into this new world and someone you’ve never met hates you for hearing your voice in a pocket dimension. and then murders you for it like an hour into your life. and then everyone acts like it’s okay because she’s going through a real rough time. and yeah she is, but how does that make it okay? they defend it, because she was scared, but you were scared too. what about your fear? you didn’t even do anything. she keeps threatening to kill you, and you can’t do anything, and you’re powerless. and then you join the opposing faction, because why wouldn’t you. and then her factionmate kills you a few days later. and it’s all one big joke. the entire faction hates you and they believe you’re evil, because they have to justify themselves somehow. no enemy of the kingdom can be innocent, so you must be evil, but you don’t even know who you are yet. and the king takes responsibility for all of it, willingly.

and you’re not perfect, but you try to remain kind. you ask her if she’s comfortable with you attending her event, and as you’re leaving, she calls you back and tries to murder you. again. and she’s friends with the guy you’ve sworn your life to, who’s likewise sworn to keep you safe. and she tells him it was just a little tap, like it was nothing. later, you try to stick up for yourself, defend your innocence, and she tells you that she doesn’t view you as an equal, much less a human being. your death does not matter to her because she doesn’t believe you deserve to live. she doesn’t believe you’re anything at all. "you’re nothing to me, lukey," and everyone lets it happen.

she continues to berate and belittle you, and threaten your life, and so does everyone else, because they’ve decided you’re evil. and it’s funny. and you’re weak. sneeg, and ros, and tina, and zam—and foolish lets them. and then ros dies. and she comes back weird and wrong, and people say to you try to start over, so you try, bitterly. but you’re evil. she calls you a dog. a pet. mocks you. says you make her want to be violent.

"like, i hardly touched lukey, and he hasn’t stopped whining about it."

and something’s got to give. someone has to take responsibility, so,

"i didn’t plan this, foolish. but i’m letting it happen. much like you did."

and everyone screams, see! we knew he was evil all along! we were right! — but this was never your decision to begin with. it’s never mattered what you truly are, because they’d already decided for you.

[ganondoodle]

🤝being sick of that damn goat man

Though mine are probably more basic because I just think they were cowards and should have made his design more monstery, WHERE'S THE TAIL AND PAWS HUH.

see at first i even liked his design (just that though, in the tutorial i called him being a twist villain bc i had way too much faith into the writing lmao), but man going back through my stream recordings i was trying to be so nice to the game until the very end, i really didnt want to accept how much i disliked evrything lol, at least now i feel free to just yell about how much i hate it

anywaym they dIDNT EVEN GIVE HIM GOAT EYES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! COWARDS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

GOAT EYES! TWO THUMBS! LIGHT FERN HAIR APPENDAGE! HOOVES! TAIL! FULLY FURRED! (he looks too smooth in canon, fuckimg smooth yoda ass rauru)

[weirdglassthing]

LOA Shiptober Day 4: How They Met

October content month was ambitious..

This one took me. Shockingly long. Whoops! I’ll probably end up jumping around the prompt list and it might extend into November 😋

I’ll try to do day 31 on the actual date of Halloween though 🫡

[m4rz1t0ne]

made a princess kenny design so i could make princess x paladin bunny yaoislop. paladin butters design coming…. at some point !!!!

sheepdog princess bonus

[stealingyourbones]

Never will I stop with the steadfast notion that folks in the DPXDC fandom should interact with at least some form of canon DC media.

There are comics, tv shows, radio dramas both old and new, podcasts, movies, magazines, so much shit that intentionally avoiding the media is simply preventing yourself from spawning new ideas and gaining a new appreciation for a fandom that you’re already in.

The Superman Radio Show has episodes 11 minutes long. A lot of the TV shows don’t have episodes that surpass 30 minutes and most are nearly fully clipped on the official DC YouTube channel. The amount of fan made motion comics is astounding. The amount of fanmade animations is equally as incredible.

[seawing-vibes]

I'm home, with moonlight on the river, saying my goodbyes

I'm home, there's moonlight on the river, everybody dies

I can’t stop myself from adding one (1!) “Read more” so heres the og sketch so you can see Noct’s face <3