#the colour scheme in this one is very interesting
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uservalentine · 2 years ago
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thank you mac @hoodhoran for tagging me <3
share your lockscreen, the last song you listened to, the last photo you saved, and the last photo you took
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lockscreen: i have two lockscreen carousel thingys and since one is of my friends, is this luke in the 5sos one <3
last song: my feeling nostalgic 🤝🏻 joost
last photo saved: ruel’s brisbane show!!
last photo taken: flower bouquet my parents got 💐
tagging, only if you want to of course; @redrattlers @sorcerry @ct-tech @loverofmines @ijustdontlikepeople
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17mujipens · 9 months ago
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i saw a video about the Queen in Dungeon Meshi and her skin colour. and people in the comments had all sorts of theories on why she and Flamela have such dark skin. and it made me realise that a lot of people haven’t seen this page of the Adventurers Bible:
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starflungwaddledee · 1 year ago
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which ocs in the fandom do you find the most interesting? also, which ocs do you think have the most aesthetically pleasing designs? finally, which ocs have you only heard of but would like to know more about?
ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh nooooooo ha haaa noooo i can't possibly answer this because it would be soooo unfair to have favourites wouldn't it's comet knight by @kittenvirus
#sorry it's the colour scheme and the glitter and the fluff. i'm unfortunately so so weak to all these things 😭#even a little bit of pastel rainbow star theming specifically... comet really has everything i'm sorry to say#i think starstruck would faint immediately if she saw him. could they be friends?? i'm not sure i think she'd just be like this: 👁️👁️#he is also one of (if not the very) first designs i saw when i started picking around the kirby community#so i'll always have a soft spot for him no matter who else i discover.#there are also a dozen other OCs that i love and adore but the more that i list the more folks will feel that i didn't list *them*#and i really really don't want to do that! my mutuals have some absolutely banging designs as do some folks who i don't follow!#there are also a lot of REALLY cool designs that are 'semi' oc but are more like redesigns? from folks AUs or comics or so on#many great morpho-esque redesigns out there too i'm always a fan of those!!!#please understand i'm listing only ONE design that hits all these prompts (bc i also don't know the creator well hence 'only heard of')#and one that always stands out to me personally because of the sentimentality i mentioned above#but i love MANY many many. if i started listing them i would never stop!! if you have an oc or a design i probably love them!!#i realise that is a bit of a dodge of the breadth of this question but i just... yknow? haha#i'd be happy to learn more about any ocs really!! i would actually love for starstruck to start having some relationships with others too?#if folks are interested in that!! she has relationships with the dream land four but not so much with ocs; and that might be fun too!!#others ocs#asks
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meo-eiru · 5 months ago
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heyy!! here I am with some more thoughts, this time about Elias.
honestly, for some reason, he seems like a very lonely person to me. you mentioned his will to change himself (and go to extreme lengths in that); also his almost paranoid fear of darling leaving him, (delete all of your contacts except for him, etc) – usually such level of jealousy is a sign of very low self-esteem. dunno if it's true, I just had a feeling that he's super insecure deep down. (he's afraid to look bad in our eyes, remember? to an unhealthy extent.)
and he's so empty. so beautiful on the outside, but so so empty. he loves you, he exists for you, isn't that enough? it isn't. you can't feel genuine affection for someone just because they look good. and Elias knows that! he's actually self conscious (unlike some elf with big tatas), but he can't offer you anything else, which must make him feel even more insecure, because deep down he knows that he won't be able to keep you by his side forever.
actually that will of his to go to extreme lengths for us is pretty frightening. how toxic it can be? depends on the darling! because if you are a normal person, you'd be patient with him, change him, and have a happy ever after and all those boring things. but what if Elias happens to fall in love with an unreasonable and possessive monster?
I feel like he'd go very well with a darling who's yandere for him too. and a stereotypical one at that, who'd want to keep him by their side like a pretty doll. get it? not a life partner, not even a human. a doll, a pretty thing to take care of. they would choose pretty clothes for him, brush his hair, but at the end of the day, he's nothing more but a pretty thing, an object.
I really like the doll metaphor for Elias. (I'm a huge doll lover, I ever have one of that super expensive bjd) dolls are beautiful, but aren't alive. they can't be someone you'd open your heart to; under their shiny porcelain skin, they're hollow.
unlike Silas, Elias is a more tragic character in my eyes. he's willing to carve his bones to whatever shape you desire, because if he isn't validated and noticed by you, he has no value. and you (if you are a normal person) will grow tired and bored of him, sooner or later. he wants to be loved, when there's pretty much nothing to love in him.
unlike Silas, his love can ruin only himself.
(I swear it's not like I want to see him suffer in particular. I'm open to all kinds of despair, pain and sadness, whether it yan's or darling's!)
(also I tried to find his colour scheme, but all I found was you mention his hair, so it's just how I think he looks like.)
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DHDKDHDKYS NOT ONLY IS YOUR ANALYZES AMAZING YOU ALSO DREW ELIAS??? AND HOW DID YOU GET HIS COLOR SCHEME SO RIGHT???
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I love you thank you god I love asks like yours.
You’re very on point, Elias is like a pretty doll. Beautiful on the outside but completely empty inside, and that beauty is the only thing that gives him any kind of worth. He’s aware of this more than anyone.
He’s not rich, he doesn’t have an amazingly successful career, no hobbies, no specialities, no interests. He’s extremely pathetic and all he can do is pitifully attempt to pull you down to his level.
That’s why committing self harm comes so easily to him even if he doesn’t yearn for it. Endangering himself, his only value, his body, is the only way he can keep you with him. He doesn’t have any power over you he can use against you. He only has this disgustingly and pathetically beautiful body.
He wants to be loved by you, he wants you to be obsessed with him as much as he is with you, but deep down he knows he doesn’t have any qualities that could deserve such love. That is why he leans into his appearance so hard, since the moment he was born that face of his was the only thing that gave him any sort of value.
If you find any part of him ugly he’ll have no choice but to try to fix it even if it completely ruins him. Because he thinks that’s the only way for him to keep your eyes on him. He’s just through and through pathetic. Extremely pitiful.
He would indeed roll well with a yandere reader who treats him like a living doll. Because Elias wants to be values by you, even if it means getting stripped of the little sense of identity he had. He wants you to keep your eyes on him and see him as an object who exists for your satisfaction. Because at the end of the day that is what he is. An empty shell who was unfortunate enough to be born with the ability to love.
Elias’ existence can’t handle his own love. He’ll start breaking from inside out like a doll under pressure. That’s why he needs your reassurance, he needs you to reaffirm his worth. He can’t exist for himself so he needs to exist for you. He might be a beautiful shell of a human but he too can have some sort of value if he’s being used like a tool by you.
But watching you also makes him feel extremely jealous and frustrated. Because you have everything he doesn’t have. You have hobbies, things you enjoy, things you do for yourself, people who stay with you not for your outer shell but for who you are inside. Everything Elias never had and never will.
That’s why he tries so hard to ruin your relationships and threaten you to stay with him, to keep you at his level like a pathetic bug. Because you’re not like him. You can abandon him any day of the week and continue your life like you lost nothing, but Elias isn’t like that. If he loses you he truly will have nothing left.
So please love him, ruin him, break him, treat him right, use him, make him feel alive, give him some sort of value. Please be kind to Elias. He needs you more than anyone on this world
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thesiltverses · 1 month ago
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The horror of Eric Carle
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Becoming a dad has really been a reminder of all the half-forgotten books that got me interested in horror: the ones that I will definitely share with my kid (The Minpins) and the ones that I probably won't (Not Now, Bernard)
And then there's Eric Carle, and now it's all coming flooding back - the very first time in my life that I experienced terror. Seriously, what the fuck is this?
Carle's most famous book, The Very Hungry Caterpillar, is in its own way uneasy and strange (the caterpillar's voracious and growing hunger is presented ambiguously both as an unavoidable and natural process of change and something greedy and grotesque; the caterpillar appears to devour its own place-of-birth and then feels good about it) but it flies under the radar by being very unCarle-like. The caterpillar is largely tiny and cute, we get plenty of colourful close-ups of tasty-looking food, and there are only two pages and a cover which feature Carle's favourite preoccupation: giant animals with irregular, scissor-cut eyes staring unhappily at the reader as they threaten to grow larger than the page itself.
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I genuinely remember feeling deeply unnerved by Carle's first major piece of illustration work, Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See?, written with Bill Martin Jr., but only now do I understand why. Holy shit, I have so many questions.
Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What do you see? I see a red bird looking at me.
Why is the rhyme-scheme so frantic and breathless, like it's being chanted out during an escalating ritual somewhere deep in the forests? Why are the animals - textured via collage as if half-carved from wood themselves - staring directly at us, the audience, before then revealing that they're actually looking behind us at something else which is staring back at them in turn? Why do so many of the animals look so fearful and haunted as they acknowledge the vast web of visibility which exists between them?
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Why does the 'white dog' page - perhaps the only-genuinely-friendly-looking animal - briefly plunge us into night-time, creating the impression that these creatures are somehow watching each other across spans of time and space, when Carle is fully capable of just drawing an outline around the dog?
Why is the teacher's neck extending like a xenomorph's tongue as she glares with narrowed eyes down at the children (what horrible act have they caught her doing?) Why is the cover of follow-up Polar Bear, Polar Bear, What Do You Hear clearly depicting a Tuunbaq stalking the reader?
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What seems remarkable and bizarre is that Carle, a talented artist, deliberately chooses to draw animals for infant readers which are neither cute nor charming but which consistently embody the internet joke about hares - feral wilderness prophets who've glimpsed the truth of the universe and gone mad - and has made a stunningly successful career out of doing so.
Carle's beasts know something terrible that they do not fully understand, and which they are incapable of sharing with us.
I'll avoid the crass temptation to draw serious biographical inferences here (Carle believed he had PTSD from an adolescence spent in Nazi Germany, and his works were inspired by his childhood walks with his father, who returned home psychologically shattered by his own experiences as a Soviet prisoner-of-war) and just say that there is something wonderful, awful and innocent in the fact that perhaps the most popular baby-book artist of all time, when asked to draw a goldfish, would respond with what is clearly a monstrous open-mouthed leviathan rising up from black depths to devour us all.
Look at this horrible fucking thing. It rocks.
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nyx-umbrakinesis · 8 months ago
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Alastor x FReader.
CW: angst, P in V sex, tentacles, biting, blood, dominance (Alastor), submission (Reader), ropes, bondage, punishment, spanking, breath play, sensory play, sensory deprivation, hard sex, multiple orgasms, sensory overload, edging overstimulation, crying, friction burn from ropes. (Small amount of breeding kink if you squint) (Use of a noose, but not in the way you think, Alastor's basically a sassy bitch).
(+ aftercare for 'reader').
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Word Count: 9240.
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Forever Bound.
The agonised screams as acid rain hits the sizzling flesh of the sinners caught in the raging storm outside, the pleasant burn of full-bodied rye as it slides smoothly down his throat, the smell of acrid tobacco drifting across the bar from Husk’s filthy habit, and the sight of Angel Dust once again trying to tease and sexually harass the aforementioned bartender.
All of these things were a vague awareness for Alastor as he idly drums his claws on the split woodgrain of the conjured drinking booth he sat at for privacy, eyeing you from across the room with as much subtlety as a bull in a China shop.
You piqued his interest, always so avoidant of him, except for when there was no escape, then you were utterly caustic with him. Alastor found this to be unusual behaviour, you were so affable with the others... skittish, but affable... so why did he always seem to rub you the wrong way, granted he was a powerful overlord, but he’d seen you speak with Rosie just fine.
Cute, was one word he’d often thought of when he enjoyed riling you up, your fuzz getting even fuzzier, especially your tail, oh he so adored teasing you, your look of utter fury despite being so very small, and your tail, oh your tail... his own tail was easily hidden away, secreted from the others, but your tail was much too magnificent for that, long, flat, wide, with a delightful curl at the end, and a divine reddish colour.
It was rather striking, Alastor smiled to himself as he contemplated and schemed about how best to invade your personal space today, purely to enjoy the sight of your tail frizzing up and eyes dart about while you tried to find an exit, he wondered if you would try to literally climb to get away from him this time, just like the other day when you'd scrambled up the banister of the main staircase, oh that had been most entertaining.
As he stewed in his scheming he listened to your laughter as Vaggie explained how she and Charlie had gone to the store yesterday only to meet a sinner who had fallen face first into the bag of rice they had been toting once they saw the Princess of Hell doing a regular grocery shop, Vaggie had been beside herself in tears of laughter while the ‘kind’ Charlie had helped the ‘poor’ sinner out, she had even bought his groceries for him.
Alastor swirled his rye a bit before knocking back the rest of the drink with a satisfied crackle of static, glass thudding back down on the table, his eyes still affixed to you and the way your cherub like cheeks looked adorable when you smiled... that sight alone was what forced him to act, his own smile curling higher, perhaps it was a little too much rye that forced his hand, but he wouldn’t regret his next actions if it got him what he needed from you.
Your soul attention.
Drawing on the wispy feeling of his umbrakinesis he traverses through the shadows to the unoccupied space behind you, reforming silently before bending forward so his chin hovers over your shoulder, getting as close as possible without actually touching you, mouth by your ear, your tail almost touching his pinstripe coat.
“What a delightful afternoon we’re having wouldn’t you agree Dear?” Watching in utter delight as you react to his startling presence.
Jumping in fright and almost colliding with his chin you yelp in shock; you had spied Alastor earlier but had been confident he was too busy with his jazz and rye to bother you this afternoon and had deemed it safe to stand around socialising.
You wince as you taste the sharp metallic tang of blood from biting your tongue, “I’ll be going out Vaggie,” you say nonchalantly, whilst endeavouring to ignore the demon who seems to always send a prickly electrical current through your entire nervous system whenever he comes into close proximity with you.
“Now Dear, I don’t think you would enjoy a stroll out in the acid rain right now. Perhaps, if you’d like an outdoors experience you would be thrilled to accompany my good self for a stroll, as you may be aware I do have a rather authentic bayou in my private quarters, the perfect indoor, outdoors escapade, with none of the risk of treacherous pesky weather patterns.” Alastor gestures in the direction of the lobby staircase, trying for an endearing smile.
You start to shake your head, mouth opening to politely refuse the offer, your heart racing as your nervous nature screams at you, ‘DANGER’. However, before you have the chance to decline, Charlie’s jubilant voice interrupts.
“What a wonderful idea Alastor, this is sooo awesome, oh my goodness, well done for reaching out and making an effort to be involved, I know you’ve both had your differences, and this is perfect! I think it would be excellent for the both of you to get to know one and other, oh well done Alastor, I know you don’t usually like getting involved in our redemption activities, I’m so proud of you.”
Charlie then looks at you, with those big hopeful eyes, as Alastor's grin freezes, but he doesn’t argue with Charlie, his own intentions being far less than innocent, but he refuses to let anyone know the inner workings of his mind, he almost laughs as he hears a loud scream from the city below, one more sinner clearly having reached their demise in the biting rain.
You almost recoil, your whole-body vibrating, screaming at you to escape... your instincts get ignored inevitably, the distinct scent of Alastor drifting over you, the rye on his breath, his woodsmoke, iron and musky smell fragrant and intoxicating.
You stay rooted to the spot, Charlie is technically in charge of the rehabilitation process, so if you refuse her ‘exercises��, you might get kicked out... if not by her, then the facility manager (Alastor) who is waiting with a shark like grin for your answer might take it upon himself to eject you... right out into the acid pouring outside, the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, as you see no alternative solutions.
With a pained smile you make eye contact with Alastor, your stomach swooping, your heart palpitating, “that would be lovely, thank you for the offer,” you say through gritted teeth acquiescing to the veiled demand, you are very tempted to sprint out into the acid rain instead of being alone with the Radio Demon... being the subject of his undivided attention.
“Oh Darling, of course, think nothing of it, allow me to escort you.” Alastor holds his arm out like a gentleman, a shiver of fear prickles up your spine in response.
To Charlie’s utter exhilaration, Alastor takes your hand and threads your arm through his and marches you off towards the stairwell, your legs feel like jelly, but his stride is even, so you scramble to keep up.
You take one last desperate beseeching look at Vaggie over your shoulder, and she gives you a sympathetic shrug as Charlie practically buzzes in excitement at her side.
Alastor natters for the whole trip to the upper floors, leading you to your doom his bedroom, as you numbly look at anything but him, paying attention to the abundance of the apple decor around the hotel, anxiety spiking at an all-time high, not listening to a word he says as your mind races with potential escape plans, (your tail frizzing up from his static energy), which he notices delightedly.
You don’t notice the crackle of his radio tone cutting out briefly after he says your name for the fifth time as he tries to garner your attention, this time he says it accompanied by a tap on your nose, which makes you blink rapidly, flinching as your eyes and mind come back into focus.
His sharp grin screams peril and you react defensively, “What?” You ask rudely, annoyed at your lack of recourse.
“Oh, Dearest you are hilarious,” he mocks without bothering to repeat himself, annoying you even more. If it was so important to disturb your clearly distant thoughts, surely it should be important enough to enlighten you once your attention was actually directed at him.
You give him an impatient, unimpressed look, and he snickers again.
“We’ve arrived of course, silly Doe.”
You shake your head to clear it again, acutely aware that he had called you a ‘doe’, apt really considering you’re part squirrel, but you felt funny with the way he had uttered it, the sound full of implications, you’re also very aware he’s a buck, which seemed to be the whole reason he brought up your animalistic status, choosing to ignore the bait and not wanting to risk his wrath currently, in such an isolated situation, you nod at him.
He ushers you inside, still feeling rather dazed you take in the peculiar sight of his room, he hadn't been lying, the room certainly appeared how described previously, half bedroom, with sparse furniture, the other half of the room an extensive bayou.
Your stomach dropped; it would be very easy to hide your body in there. You idly wonder how many bodies he had hidden away in there, and just how vast it might be... is it some sort of pocket dimension...
He looks down at you observing every minute detail of your reaction, wanting to reach out and touch your fluffy tail, instead his fingers snap several times in front of your face, disturbing you from wandering thoughts yet again, the warmth of this area of the room feeling even warmer in the intimacy of being alone in his bedroom with such a beautiful little doe, one that occupies his thoughts persistently... confusingly.
“My Dear, are you quite alright.” Alastor makes a show of checking your temperature with the back of his hand, his craving to touch you overriding all other senses and you jump away from him yet again, feeling annoyed at your reaction, but he doesn’t let it show.
You nod, as he laughs at you, “I’m fine,” you don’t back down, wanting to get this over with as fast and painlessly as possible.
So, despite your protesting body, you seize his arm and start trying to haul him off into the treeline.
It did smell rather fresh and aromatic in here, it was quite pleasant, not that you’d admit it to him.
Alastor hums amused but elated, deliberately setting a slow pace, that you cannot (try as you might) make him a shred swifter, your efforts having no effect on the much stronger overlord, to your dismay.
You exhale heavily and disengage from his arm, not allowing you freedom however, he quickly takes a hold of your hand, looping it back into the cook of his elbow again, as he continues escorting you, every step deliberate and exaggerated, making you feel outraged.
Without a word you amble together painstakingly, concentrating on anything other than the strong arm beneath your palm, the feeling of the squishy moss beneath your shoes, the rustle of a breeze (you can’t tell whether or not is artificial) in the trees and through your hair, the green and brown encircling you both on all sides, darkening as you both traverse deeper and deeper within, isolating you with him, you try valiantly to ignore the heat radiating from his body, or how pleasant awful it feels, the air thickens, your breathing growing laboured with tension.
You shiver, you hadn’t dressed for outdoor weather so were getting fairly chilly.
As you continue the odd journey undisturbed, you begin to think it felt rather nice, despite the company and the silence stretching on, and even with the warning bells ringing in your head, you start to relax infinitesimally as he appeared content to leave you undisturbed... famous last words.
“I think it would be wearisome if we keep proceeding silently my Dear, and I’ve been utterly intrigued by you for a while,” he supresses his mirth as he observes your tail frizz back up.
Static skating up your skin at the sound of his voice your body erupts in goosebumps, you try to convince yourself are unpleasant, but you can’t deny that this time it doesn’t feel so terrible, it seems after long exposure to him in the bayou, your body’s response didn’t feel like a warning, you can’t deny it, especially as it seems to evoke heat within, to your detriment you had to mentally stop yourself leaning into him to seek out more warmth.
You decide to humour him, if only to keep him talking, wanting more of the sensations.
“What has you intrigued about me... I mean I’m just a lowly sinner after all, wh-...”
“Why your aversion to me of course,” ever the diplomat, “for a while now I’ve noticed you avoiding me Little Doe, and I can’t help feeling slightly wounded by your actions, why do you treat everyone else so much more preferably? I feel perhaps that you don’t like me, not one little bit,” Alastor clutches his heart for dramatic effect.
“Well... I ermm... I just know all about you? Everyone has told me how dangerous you are, and I’d just rather keep my distance and not risk...”
“Don’t try to fool me with half-truth's Darling, there’s more you aren’t sharing, I can ascertain that for myself, or you wouldn’t flee the very sight of me when you know with certainty, I wouldn’t hurt a resident of our dear Charlie’s fine establishment... I would be a poor host indeed if I started killing off the wayward souls seeking redemption, not to mention how terribly bored I’d get when those seeking pointless help stopped turning up.” Alastor’s voice lowered dangerously the static increasing in his tone, he hates being lied to, especially by you, certainly in this moment, when he finally has you to himself, unable to spurn his company.
Alastor has found you running through his mind more and more lately, his days revolving around your routines, he tried to compromise with his unusual feelings, trying to interact with you as much as possible, yet your constant rejection persistently pains him, and now... Now he’s finally confronting you about it and you have the gall to try deceiving him with falsehood, when he can smell exactly what his presence is doing to you.
Alastor is very aware now as to how your body responds to him, his nostrils flare, the aroma he scents from you right now isn’t fear, fear is bitter, this is sweet, cloying, intoxicating, his eyes flicker to radio dials as he must take a firm hold of his self-control.
Your adrenaline spikes, and you start tugging, but you can’t get your hand free, “Alastor... I...”
“Another of your lies and you won’t appreciate the consequences Little Doe, so think before you speak, as I won’t allow another lie to go unpunished... and I want to assure you, I’ll know if you do.” Alastor uses his height to intimidate, towering over you menacingly.
Your heart pounds in your chest, your body shaking, his warmth and musk overpowering your faculties, you violently shake your head, at an utter loss for words.
Alastor chuckles at the visual, still keeping a firm deterring grip on your hand, he wouldn’t be surpised if he let go, if you proceeded by scrambling up a tree.
“You know what I think Little Doe? I think that you crave me,” Alstor’s heated body pressing closer to yours, “and you’re too terrified of your own feelings to even realise that’s precisely what you desire.”
You whimper quietly but his ignores you and presses on, his presence making you spiral, especially when he reaches to brush a strand of your hair from your face, causing all attempts to get away from him to halt as you freeze.
“Your body is responding to mine so deliciously, can’t you feel it? Every time you try escaping those feelings, you’re in denial, but I know better,” he leans down right beside your ear, a shiver running up your spine.
“I... can... smell... you,” he whispers his voice sending tingles all over you, your skin erupting in goosebumps yet again, eyes flying wide as he finishes enunciating teasingly.
You shake your head in denial, eyes wide in panic, your legs threatening to give way, and you try to fruitlessly tug at your trapped arm again, he growls deeply in warning about lying.
However, being completely overwhelmed you ignore the admonition, you can’t flee, you don’t freeze this time... so you fight... verbally.
“I’d rather be hanged again than crave anything you have to offer,” you snap, your free hand suddenly flying to your mouth in horror, you know you’ve really done it now.
His predatory smile widens, and several shadow tentacles burst menacingly from the ground, he releases his grip on you as all your limbs are restrained tightly in their grasp, one winding around your waist for support, you're hoisted into the air with ease and a fearful squeak, until you’re eye level with him, a good two feet off the ground.
“I warned you Little Doe,” Alastor growls, his claw gently tracing down your cheek leaving a tingling in its wake.
Prowling around you with growls still escaping him, once Alastor gets behind you, he tugs on your tail, your body trembling, you begin, hyperventilating, he simply flattens it out like a rug, and he shakes it like one too, several times until he makes a small satisfied hum of static, making you growl back at him.
“I’ve wanted to do that for some time now,” Alastor chuckles, calming slightly at your response, enjoying antagonising you, feeling at ease now, his tone completely lightening again at your helplessness, feeling every facet of your fear and desire from your scent alone.
“Now, about you, and your proclivity to lie to all powerful beings... well we’ve certainly got to correct that pesky behaviour for a start, I did warn you Dear that there would be punishment.”
He steps closer to you, circling back around to your front brushing against your tail and the fabric of your clothes as he goes, at least now granting you a visual on his location, you had been nearly panicking with him being behind you whilst you’re defenceless, your breathing calms slightly as he comes back into view.
You watch as his ears twitch, your cheeks flush at the cute visual, as he contemplates his next move, his grin looks paticularly malevolant as he slowly pulls off his jacket, rearranging the tentacles, he slips it over you, threading your arms through the long sleeves and shortening them with his magic so the tentacles can wind back around your wrists... You’re bound again, admittidly much warmer, but now engulfed in his heady scent, and it instantly drives you crazy.
You can’t believe how good that smell is to your senses, you feel a flood of heat in your tummy and underwear, you try to clear your head, but your nose just wants to bury itself into the warm heaven wafting upwards.
Alastor smirks when your cheeks flush even darker, knowing full well what’s happening as his body had been releasing pheramones for a while now in reaction to your arousal.
You feel lightheaded as he stops inches from your face, “Ready to admit it?”
You shake your head again, but don’t even notice how you didn’t protest to the fact that there is something to admit.
He dramatically sighs but looks utterly gleeful, he clicks his fingers and more tentacles spawn, ascending your legs, making you whimper and squirm, they ghost up your thighs, teasing the edge of your panties under your skirt, but withdraw at the last moment, skirting back down your legs maddeningly, stroking all the exposed sensitive flesh they can find.
Your temperature seems to raise even higher as now touch comes into play, and so as a twist he decides to deprive you of a sense this time, taking off his bowtie he gets a tentacle to hold your head still, and binds the tie over your eyes, and everything goes dark.
He takes a moment to admire the sight of you all wrapped up just for him, vulnerable, and whimpering, he would think you’d panic at what he just did, but it only seemed to turn you on more as his sensitive nose picks up a fresh wave of sweet floral heat from you.
He continues his control, gliding the tentacles he commands silently all over you, as you try to take utterly pointlessly shallow breaths trying to not breathe in his scent as you dangle in mid-air, the scent heady and making you feel drunk, but with every gasp and whine you inhale more and more.
His tentacles driving you insane as you are unable to anticipate where any of them are coming from or going next, the blindfold making you jumpy, your knickers are drowned at this point, yet the refusal of the tentacles to touch anywhere you actually need them to has you utterly quivering and unable to hold in your rising sounds of need and protest.
Alastor leans his cane against a tree, feeling utterly buoyant as he hums a tune, marking another sense off his internal list, making sure you will break completely and perfectly for him, the power making his cock twitch in interest.
Only one left he thinks gleefully, so he uses his powers to keep the tentacles going, as his microphone begins to play one of his favourite jazz tunes so you won’t hear him approaching, this final sense he’ll have to do himself, but because of everything else so far, he knows just from your delightful sounds, this is what will tip you over the edge.
He has noted you haven’t once said no, or asked him to stop, but he does keep in mind that if you utter those words, he will respect them, a bastard he may be, but he’s not that sort of demon, in fact he notices you haven’t said anything since he took control, he tries to determine if it’s fear of him, or fear of your own feelings, too scared to ask for more, too cowardly to admit you like it.
Adjusting himself with his hand, he moves so he can feel your body heat radiating off you, getting close enough he has to hold his breath, he raises a finger and traces its tip across your lips, dragging it along the seam and your whole body shudders, you moan to his utter delight, he withdraws his finger as your tongue comes out trying to catch it, all the confirmation he needs, and while you groan in displeased agony he crashes his lips onto yours.
His tongue plundering and dancing with yours as you sigh in bliss, finally getting some real contact, the taste of him so deliciously enticing you don’t even think twice about reciprocating, your tongue eagerly venturing out to meet his.
Every touch, every lap of his tongue against yours is a shock to your system in the darkness of the makeshift blindfold, his hands maddeningly never once straying to your body as the tickling and stroking of the tentacles increases, sending shivers all over your body, his scent still a vast ocean around you, the sound of jazz not nearly loud enough to ground you, when you moan into his mouth you feel him smirk as he withdraws yet again and you nearly cry out for him, your legs trembling against the appendages wrapped around them as even more slide up your back as you desperately try to lean forward seeking him out blindly.
He chuckles, sensing victory is near, you yelp as you feel your tail tugged on again, already overly sensitive from the teasing and heightened sensations of being plunged into darkness, your skin burning with static from the energy he exudes, you felt like a live wire about to spark. You can feel the fluids literally running down your leg, the barrier of your knickers doing nothing anymore.
His alluring voice sounds in your right ear once more, “Ready to confess Pet?”
You whimper, your senses on high alert, you turn you head toward where you can hear him, another stronger waft of his scent has you weak, wanting fulfillment, your pussy swollen, dripping and aching, you moan again, your brain not functioning at full capacity as you can’t comprehend what he’s talking about.
You shiver again the tentacles never ceasing their torment, he laughs as he watches you pout trying to lean toward him for more stimulation.
“Soon Little Doe,” Alastor promises, “First you must admit why you’ve been running away from me and being a mean Little Pet to me for months now.” He boops your nose startling you, making him laugh once more.
“Tell me Dear One, what do I do to you that makes you literally climb banisters to flee my presence.”
You whimper for another moment you pussy spasming, clenching around thin air desperately, you’d given up trying to avoid his smell and embraced drinking it in greedily now, if he could see your eyes, he would barely be able to see the coloured rings of them.
“Y-you,” you take yet another deep breath, your whole body vibrating like a tuning fork as you try to writhe and buck agaisnt the tentacles to no avail. “You, make me wet, fuuuck... Alastor, please... I’ve been avoiding you... because everything about you sets off every instinct inside me... and, and, and... it scares me... but fuck it makes me horny so badly...”
“Oh really? And what pray tell do you do when I make you horny, other than flee?” He grins, using his breath to send goosebumps all over your neck as he tickles your ear with it, blowing gently.
“Please... Al...” You cry out more impatient than ever before, “stop teasing, I beg of you...”
“Ha, no.” Alastor laughs at you, and you nearly cry at the torment, your whole body getting no reprieve from the writhing mass stimulating you.
Gasping as one lingers for longer near your mound this time, you hasten to answer hoping for relief, “I run to my room, and I fuck myself on my fingers until I cry your name... Please Al, oh fuck please!” Tears sliding down your face.
The world seems to shift around you, you feel almost car sick, the blindfold is ripped from your face, you blink rapidly against the now blinding brightness, he’s petting your hair soothingly and you realise you’re both back in the more ‘normal’ portion of his bedroom, a wrought iron bed dominating the area, you were sure that wasn’t there when you’d entered.
He cups your face before you can regain anymore sense and kisses you fiercely in reward, granting you a boon for your honesty, you moan eagerly, clutching at his body, not even noticing the tentacles had freed you as you wrap yourself around him pleadingly, almost dry humping him as he snogs you soundly, drawing out your tongue to suck on, making you moan yet again.
“There’s a good Pet... now that you’ve finally admitted it to yourself, we can get down to business... and I’m not through with you yet Little Doe, but first your punishment.”
You groan in protest, but he silences you with a look, his sharp grin predatory, threatening, and despite your desperate need your body and mind react instinctively, deferring to him automatically, accepting your fate a little too willingly for your tastes, but what were you to do?
You lower your head, tilting to the side in submission, he growls in approval.
“You were cruel Little Doe, and I want your penance, or I will make it so you cannot cum for a week.”
You maddened with lust and need by now nearly scream in frustrated fear, shaking your head manically, making him laugh again, his scent making you lean toward him again wanting nothing more than to get lost in him, devour every iota of him and be devoured in return.
“Fine, do it... punish me, please... please don’t leave me like this... I’ll do anything.” You beg him frantically, your body aflame.
“There’s my good Little Doe,” Alastor says light-heartedly, scratching you behind your small, pointed ears.
He snaps his fingers and without further ado you’re plunged back into darkness, you feel suddenly chilly and vulnerable as the cool air hits your skin all at once, you have no moment to react to your sudden exposure as you feel yourself dragged and sprawled on your stomach over a strong pair of warm, furry thighs.
Immediately you realise what’s going to happen and a new flood of unimpeded slick drenches your own thighs to his utter delight, he takes a moment to run a slim digit up the inside of your thigh, gathering the juice making you shiver and press into his hand with a needy whine.
He hums in approval when he tastes you for the first time, the sound of pleasure from him causing another jolt to your core despite being unable to see him, he exaggerates the wet licking sounds for your benefit, watching your reactions keenly.
“Delicious... Now, two strikes for every month of avoidance and pain you’ve caused me, and another five on top for your lies and cruel remarks earlier, so a grand total of fifteen,” he says in a husky growl, you can even hear his smile, it was malicious.
You wait, flinching with every breeze ghosting your backside.
He entertains himself for several moments just watching you tense, writhing and trying to anticipate his actions, so instead he idly runs his fingers up and down your back soothingly, the fur of your tail brushing the back of his hand.
He planned keep it up for a while, except the sight of you so helpless yet willing and pliant has him unable to hold back for much longer, needing to take from you what he wants most so he can figure out why you affect him so strongly, and to stop you from ever being able to leave, watching your pleasure has him harder than he’s ever been in his life, the power over you has him feeling things he’s never felt before, and he’s too far gone to even begin unravelling what it signifies.
An almost imperceptible swish and you hiss as the sting on your backside jolted you with slight shock more than pain.
“Count, and thank me each time, or I shall begin again each time.” Instructional, his voice betraying no emotion.
You nod blindly, with a yelp as the next sting burns, your bum flinching away causing your hips to grind against his thigh, and you realise your error, “One, thank you Alastor.”
“Master,” he corrects, wanting you to get accustomed to the idea.
“Master,” you parrot obediently, already a sopping leaking mess, Alastor’s thigh getting wet already.
You tremble in his lap, hyper aware of the hard thick rod pressing into your tummy.
In your distraction another swish and an audible slap, you wince, a groan escaping your throat, “Two, thank you A-Master.”
The warning growl to not make the error again has you squirming on him, and the next swift smack comes even harder, your arse begins to throb, heating up from the abuse as you can’t stop your audible reactions either, grunting louder in pain.
SMACK, you cry out in pain as the next strike hurts, tears start forming again, wetting the blindfold further, you choke out the gratitude, “T-three, thank you Master.”
The next he has mercy from you enduring and obeying on the last so well, the spank being not so hard, but you still feel it smart, “Four, thank you Master.”
You moan as you feel him pry your cheeks open, his probing gaze upon your revealed shame, you hear him inhale deeply, all your cheeks burning now, as he sniffs at your arousal, teasing you with just his breath lightly blowing on your tensing desperate holes.
You hear him growl yet again and you moan, arching your back, trying to tempt him, to no success as he swiftly gets right back to managing your punishment.
This goes on smoothly for the next nine spanks, your legs a drenched mess, you’re limp and sobbing on his lap as you shakily count the thirteenth strike, he sooths the burn with gentle rubs on your behind for a few moments, letting you gather yourself together, giving you a chance to not mess this up, to your immense gratitude.
Obviously, it’s a tactic on his end to endear him to you for showing ‘mercy’ but you're too cock desperate to even think that far.
“Almost done pet, you’re doing so well,” he praises admiring the darker colour of your beaten arse with awe. “Just two more, then I’ll take good care of you Little Doe.”
Sniffling you nod bracing yourself, tears streaming down your face, yet with every hit the heat in your groin had built to an unbearable precipice, not to mention the occasional tease of him stopping to enjoy the view of the flood exiting your hot and ready cunt.
You feel ready to just mount his leg (if you could get the angle right) and rub yourself silly on him, coating him in your essence, wanting to feel his thatch of fur soaked between your thighs, marking him like a bitch in heat.
“You smell, delicious.” His voice sounds gravelly, betraying his desire for the first time.
Catching you completely off guard, his tone and words make you moan louder than before, your hips jolting as your core pulses strongly, your body trying to find any source of friction, his hand keeping your thighs from rubbing together, your pussy trying to milk the air again.
Finally, you realise your eyes had been unimpeded, for you weren’t sure how long, you had just realised the lack of tear saturated cloth when he uses a gentle claw tipped finger to your face toward him so he can watch you, his crimson eyes burning your very soul.
“Such a pretty Little Doe,” Alastor purrs his praise at you, his eyes dark, his antlers large, his smile still screaming doom at you, but you can’t find it in yourself to care when all you want is that grin peering up at you from between your thighs as you ride his face.
The loud clap and burn of the next blow has you crying out even louder the shock and power of it making your eyes close, your head straining to escape his grasp, he absorbs every facet of your reaction with rapture.
“AHHH... fo-fourteen, th-thank you... mmmaster,” you manage to stammer out, weeping from more than once place on your body.
The soft texture of his fur had been rubbing your nipples the whole time until they became hardened peaks, added to the burn of your arse and the insistent throb of your hot wet cunt, you were at the point of overwhelming sensory overload, feeling utterly deranged, in your crazed state you almost miss the final strike.
The pain zinging through your entire being, “Fif-teen, thank y-you, master,” you pant, your arse glowing like hot coals, you realise it’s over, almost feeling disappointed, but all you can focus on is the hard cock you just felt under your abdomen twitch.
He smooths his hand over the raw flesh of your arse soothing the pain, but your pussy was having none of it, throbbing even harder... more painful than your arse at this point. “Please...” You whimper, rubbing against him.
“My what a needy little slut you are Pet... I should have done this months ago.” Alastor’s radio crackle reducing to almost human sounding, made you shiver and moan again.
He sounded utterly euphoric, and you feel the flood still trailing down your thighs, you're surprised you both aren’t swimming neck deep by now with the copious amount drizzling out of you, forget the storm outside, the real storm he created himself between your legs.
Lifting your limp form gently and using his tentacles to arrange you.
You whine your body not responding to your commands as with ease he lays you on the bed, your sore bum protesting, your tail trapped under you, “Trust me my pretty Doe, with the state your beautiful little derrière is in, on the soft bedding is the best place for it right now... but fret not, you’ll soon forget it was ever sore in the first place.”
“Mas-mmm...” you try your body reaching its limit for tolerance.
He chuckles, pleased by the sight of your debauched state of utter glory, spread out before him, barely able to move.
You feel the chafing of rope wrapping around your wrists tightly dragging them together and up over your head, you look up in surprise as you see a noose tying around your wrists, you glace back at him in shock, a devilish smirk on Alastor's face.
“Wouldn’t want to make all your lies valid, and deprive you of a treatment from the gallows you so wished for now would I... after all...” his jubilant voice lowers as he crawls over your body, his clothes brushing against your skin, “apparently a rope is more desirable than my...” leaning close to your ear, licking the shell, “cock,” he enunciates making you moan and buck your hips up against him, groaning in frustration.
“Please Al-... Master...” you whine needily, sweat beading on your forehead from the stress of feeling so hollow, and swollen, your puffy pussy dark with flush, soaked and sensitive.
“Such a pretty, little pet, needy for your master’s cock Little Doe?” He holds back as you whine.
“Prove you want it, prove you need me, make me believe your repentance and I might just show you mercy” he leans closer, his weight baring down on you, pinning your body down, every inch of him pressed against you.
Your nerve endings reacting violently to the proximity as usual, even with him motionless your body feels feral with need, you want to claw at him, make him bury deep inside you so you don’t know where you begin and he ends, you want his cock so badly it hurts, nothing else matters in this moment.
You, however, can’t even react, you don’t know how, with your hands bound, your body pinned, and in this utter state of overwhelm, completely at his mercy, thoroughly insensible from his continued assault on your senses.
“Please... Please... Master...” You whine, keening as you feel the tips of his fingers gliding through your soaked pussy in reward, moaning, your eyes rolling as he finally touches you, the pleasure making you buck your hips to demand he rubs you harder.
“What would you do for me? To have my cock... to make you cum? What would you do...?”
You miss the warning signs, drunk on his scent and touch, all instincts making you arch into him, your hands tugging on the restraints, burning your wrists on the harsh rope.
Alastor’s smile is almost deranged as he awaits your predictable response knowing how much he’s gotten to you, knowing everything he desires is moments from his grasp.
“Anything, please, just anything, please Alastor, I’ll do anything, just take me, take me now...” You thrash about.
“Then give me your soul... or I shall leave you here tied up; I won’t lay another finger on you again if you don’t, I promise, but if you do give me what I want, I’ll make sure you cum so much, you won’t remember your own name.” his fingers rubbing circles on your aching clit as he says this to drive you further into the depths of your depraved state, finally giving you a balm to satiate, tease and further distract.
“Yes, yes, yes, please, just please.” The words barely register as you beg, moaning, tugging at the harsh restraint again, feeling as though you may die again if he leaves you like this now.
One of your hands is magically released and you quickly grasp at his outstretched hand now he's sat up straddling you, your wetness coating his fingers as your hand clings to them, he leads the action himself shaking your hand and there's a burst of green that you pay no mind to, the static that seems to fill your very blood gets ignored too as you try to cling to his collar next, trying to drag him back down onto you.
“Ah, ah, pet,” Alastor says, feeling the weight of the bond settle in his chest cavity, almost singing with glee.
Alastor rebinds your hand with a wave of his and the reappearance of a tentacle to enact his will, before getting up as you shout in protest.
“Don’t worry your pretty little head now Dear,” he taunts slightly as he uses his magic to swiftly divest the rest of his own clothes, you get a glimpse of wet thigh and his heavy bobbing cock before your vision is obscured again.
Whining turns to moaning as you feel his knee pushing between your legs, spreading you even wider, your head rising from the pillow trying to predict his actions again, your nose still full of woodsmoke, iron, musk and now your own arousal from the copious amount staining the bed.
The darkness consumes you as your vocal pitch gets even higher when you suddenly feel a tongue glide from perineum to clit, your entire body convulsing, your hot wet cunt pulsing, bucking your hips seeking more, your toes curling in effort.
He groans in pleasure at your taste, hip hips rutting forward instinctively.
“Fuck..” You cry out, your pussy reacting to the tongue with eagerness, that even the brief parting makes you sob.
“Language darling, no need to be vulgar,” his voice sending shockwaves through your core as he's so close he causes vibrations with his static to course through you, your body jolting with tiny electric shocks making you seep directly onto his waiting tongue.
“Please, I- ngh.. Need you,” you’re a whining mess, thrashing your head side to side, trying to dislodge the blindfold.
He ignores your plea and buries himself face first ravenously, licking and sucking every drop of ambrosia straight from the source of your unending well of lust and need, you can’t stop moaning, your legs over his shoulders as he feasts on you.
You tug harder on the ropes, wanting to bury your fingers in his hair, tug on his ears, anything, you just want to touch him so badly as your sopping cunt gets eaten like the most delicious desert feeling it pulse around his delving tongue, a spring coils tightly in your lower belly.
He moans at your taste, his cock leaking onto the sheets below him.
You cry out as he withdraws, tears falling into the blindfold again, you know why he’s tormenting you so, but you can’t take anymore.
“PLEASE!”
You feel the bed shifting, and the blissful slide of his skin against yours, dragging himself up against your nipples, licking one wetly on his ascent, his hot breath before it envelops your mouth, tasting yourself on his tongue with a moan, feeling utterly blessed.
With one smooth hard thrust and a howling cry from you he's fully seated within you.
His hands push the backs of your thighs wide open, spreading you out for his desired position, your hips buck desperately for more.
Your walls compressing him as his thick hard cock stretches your clenching cunt wide, your body already feeling like it’s about to burst, absolutely burning within, every sensation heightened by your state of visual obscuration as you feel every millimetre of his cock wedged deep within you, your cunt helplessly fluttering around him already greedily trying to claim its prize.
The feel of his mouth smiling against yours as he plunders it, a frenzy of teeth and tongue, as he snaps his hips flush with yours causing an exquisite jolt within you as you cry out in ecstasy, the taste of him and your essence in your mouth as your body yields to his without opposition.
The flex of his stomach flush with yours as his hips roll in for another punishing thrust that has you throwing your head back and crying out to the heavens in rapturous relief your pussy clenching hard already as you squirt onto his busy pelvis, his thatch of fur soaking through, he groans picking up speed and force, intensifying your release as your pussy contracts rhythmically, squeezing him for all it’s worth, his skin slapping yours as he doesn’t let up.
He growls through gritted teeth, biting his tongue to keep him from spilling deep within you already, the feel of your pleasure almost too much for him.
“Just look at you, you were such a sassy little thing, and now...” Alastor grunts with effort, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth, as your pussy spasms and squirts once more with a stuttered cry for you as he eases you through it again with his toiling cock.
Your body convulsing as the rope burns your wrists from the effort. Alastor’s hands moving from your thighs to your hips for better control and power to his demanding thrusts. Your loud moans never ceasing.
His skin and fur is soaked with your early release, “... Well now, you are a work of art... So weak, so pathetic, so mine... My dear you’ve never looked more glorious.” His hips not once slowing their pace as he delves deeply, his cock hitting places inside you that you never knew existed.
His cock exploring your blazing channel as your cunt spasms, burning at the stretch of being so filled by such an impressive being, with every inch of his large hungry cock that fills you, you feel as though nothing could make your body return to its state before the fucking of your entire lifetime... or death, the bed creaking ominously as he pounds away at you making sure you get thoroughly addicted to him.
Every pulse, every drag, every whine, and groan, a blur of pleasure, pain and desperation.
You plead with him as his hands glide all over your vulnerable exposure, memorising your curves, palming your round breasts, tweaking at the darkened peaks of your sensitive mounds.
“FUCK!” You cry out as you feel something not his finger begin to stimulate your clit while he ruts fiercely away at you.
Completely blind you’ve no idea what it is that has latched onto your swollen clit, only that your trembling legs begin to tense once more already, he withdraws his mouth leaving yours free for his audio entertainment and enthral him you did with every exquisite gasp and moan.
Blinded literally and figuratively with the pleasure making your brain short circuit at his bruising pace as he nibbles at your neck, your whole body arching as you cry out and convulse once more.
The wet slapping of drenched skin ceaseless, the burning of your wrists ignored over the burning throbbing of your cunt, your legs aching as you try to keep them raised and spread needing him deeper and deeper, wanting nothing more than to be filled to the brim by him, and never let him out.
Each beat of his cock stretching your channel in every direction, hitting your cervix with agonised pleasure as he makes sure to go balls deep with every thrust, feeling as though your very guts are being rearranged.
Alastor concentrates on making sure every inch of him is imprinted deep inside of you, desiring to be unforgettable, moaning as well as he feels the saturated warmth of you clutching at him, trying to drag him back in as he tries to thrust.
Desperately your arms tugs relentlessly, trying to find purchase on him needing to hold on to anything, any part of him... He denies you however and you sob as the ropes do more damage, but the overwhelming pleasure overrides all sense of self preservation as your squirting pulsing pussy gets ruined.
You feel another pair of hands supporting your legs startling you as his hands hadn’t stopped fondling you, exploring every inch of your body, they felt colder than his hands but no less substantial, you realise it’s his shadow when it feels like it’s pressed under your tail too.
You can’t think about it though as with a growl his teeth clamp down on the side of your neck and he sucks a bruise into your flesh teeth pricking your skin, you moan once more, the new sensation adding to the invasion of your senses.
“Scream for me Dear, relief is earned not given my Little Doe... scream for me,” With a sharp twist on your nipple, his thrusts bullying your stomach internally with every throb and rub and twitch, the sucking sensation on your clit increases to a painful capacity.
You break.
Screaming his name “ALASTOR!” you wail through your third release absolutely bathing him in your squirt, his cock making shluck sounds with every thrust as he finally gives in to his own release.
Bottoming out hard inside you once more and squeezing your tits tightly as you feel every part of him pulsing and flooding deep inside you, his hips slamming into yours, filling you to capacity, pumping every single pulse of seed inside you, making sure you take every single drop as he lifts your hips, using gravity to aid him, fucking his cum in you with his cock head, burying it firmly and making sure none escapes as he looks down at the absolute mess he’s made of you.
Alastor observes in satisfaction the blindfold still secure but drenched in tears, your skin flushed, soaked and bruised, the bite on your neck trickling warm blood down your clavicle, your legs spasm frequently from overstimulated relief, your pussy stretched wide over his still twitching cock, your wrists raw from the noose still binding them, and your entire body limp, the rapid rise and fall of your chest the only indication that you’re still conscious.
Gently he reaches to remove to blindfold, you blink against the stark change of brightness.
Eventually your eyes focus on the awe inspiring Radio Demon, his smiling look of utter smug pride as he catches his breath makes your pussy clench around him again making you whine from sensitivity, your head still quite dizzy, your body feeling heavy, it’s all you can do to not pass out.
Cooing at you, he releases your wrists from their restraints and rolling you both onto your sides he cradles you to his chest petting your hair whispering praise as he holds your wrists up for inspection, “Such a beautiful little Pet, you did so well, I’m right here, don’t you worry, I take care of what’s mine.”
There’s a green burning glow again and you feel your wrists smart once more before the pain dulls and you slump in relief against him.
Moaning as his cock shifts inside your abused hole, he chuckles and starts humming soothingly, helping you adjust and come down from your ordeal.
His own state a stark contrast to yours, he seems almost energised as he takes care of you, rubbing your back, kissing the top of your head as your legs stays slung over his waist as he slowly softens inside you, both of you dripping from your release, but you don’t have the mental faculty to be embarrassed over your particular penchant for squirting, nor his talent on seamlessly drawing it out of you.
Finally when he deems you recovered enough he scoops you up and heads to the bathroom to clean you both up, sliding gently out of your warmth making the pair of you groan, he gives you another kiss to ease you again.
The sound of his pleasure makes your heart flutter, he traverses the distance easily on his long sturdy legs, the shower already running, he steps inside the warm flow of water with you still cradled in his arms rinsing you both off as best as he can.
“Such a pretty little Doe, my perfect little pet, you felt so good wrapped around me, knew exactly how much you needed me... All this time, who knew you could be so good for me.” He seemed to narrate everything that happened, how delightfully responsive you were and how he can’t wait to see you cum for him again and again.
Your head rests on his chest still shaking from overstimulation, your pussy still sore and pulsing as he uses his tentacles to hold you and his hands to clean you, you listen to him far more than you had earlier when you’d been absconded upstairs by him, but taking no more of it in than before in your well fucked state.
Once you’re both clean he keeps you in the tentacles gentle, secure hold as he grabs towels for you both, and the sight of his little fluffy tail wagging is what caused you to sober up enough to regain your senses.
The flash of green when he had to conjure towels makes you gasp as your memory comes back to you... Your hand jumping to your chest as though to grasp at your very soul as you remember what you did.... All for the sake of sex with Alastor... Damn good sex but still... How the hell did he manage that?
Your heart races in panic as he returns to you wrapping you up so carefully to dry you, you can’t help but feel affection for him and of how tender he’s being caring for you.
He finishes drying you both, the smell of him all the more potent now your dripping squirt had been cleansed from both of your skin and fur.
He carries you back into the bedroom, tucking you into now clean, dry, soft bedding.
Getting in beside you he pulls you gently into his arms, hushing you when you attempt to speak, scratching behind your ears, making your eyelids go heavy and you almost purr.
He conjures you a glass of water and holds it steady as he helps you drink, your hands still too shaky to cope.
“We’ll talk about it all tomorrow.” Alastor says softly intuitively knowing what the look in your eyes meant, seeing the fear, doubt and questions, his smile softens, seeming almost genuine, he vanished the glass and gathers you in close, pressing another softer kiss to your lips, utterly pleased with the results of today, thankful for the storm outside as he finally got everything he wanted.
“Goodnight my perfect Little Doe.”
Your eyes drift closed, his warmth and scent addictive, comforting to your overworked muscles as he rubs your back soothingly, maybe you were wrong about the risks of being infatuated with him... But still your soul? What were you going to do now... What was he going to do with you... Would you be expected to warm his bed forever? Would he expect you to housekeep like Niffty or barkeep like Husk... There was no avoiding it... From this moment on... You belonged to him...
Forever Bound.
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A/N: I only edited this once rather than my usual 4 times, so if there's alot of errors or issues let me know 💜
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punk-in-docs · 6 months ago
Text
A song of rage and salty waves: part I
— Emperor Geta x reader (Salacia)
— 2.5k words
— Read all parts here: Part I — Part II — Part III — Part IV
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Summary; You were raised outside of this Rome. Born into peace. To know of fathomless deep seas, and skies so big, they wrapped around your whole sight. The way that at night all you can smell are lemon trees kissed by salt. The jasmine plants wound around the white walls of the villa. Salacia. And now you are sent to Rome for your father in the Senate. There you will catch the attention of Geta; in all the wrong and darkest of ways— any reblog and comments are greatly appreciated 💙💙💙
TW!! some dub con/ threat/violence/basically forced marriage/forced smut situation/Geta is such a vile human being/Macrinus is villain sorry denzel ily
You’re imprisoned in Rome.
You certainly didn’t come here of your own free will. Your father had tugged you here from Corsica. Employed clever charm with letters and schemes from his high position in the senate.
As the role of your sex; you were born to obey.
He sent you imported silken stolas the colours of cornflowers or lazurite, with gold fibulae at the shoulders. Gem inlaid jewellery, rings to decorate every finger, and earrings the sway. A golden net for your hair. Wheedled you into coming to join him. Sending servants to travel with you and take heed of your every comfort.
He made sure you dined on plump fresh fruit. Seafood of lobsters and crabs. Drank wine so rich dark it looked black.
You despise it. The stone pillars and temples. And gods of old. Eyes watch you everywhere. See you. Follow you.The governing heat and noise and sweaty heaving mass of all forms of life.
You were raised outside of this Rome. Born into peace. To know of fathomless deep seas, and skies so big, they wrapped around your whole sight. The way that at night all you can smell are lemon trees kissed by salt. The jasmine plants wound around the white walls of the villa.
Salacia. The ocean nymph and the being of your name. Crowned with seaweed in your hair. Sea foam dripping off your fingers. Ripped from your home, an isle by the sea, at the whim of another.
Imprisoned here in this cold marble city. A fish out of water. Gasping dry on the shore.
Pulled inland and stolen away. You can’t hear gulls or waves anymore. It sickens you. Heart pangs that throb for home.
When you arrived, pulled back your folded palla down to your shoulders. He welcomed you with open arms and fondness. Wrists linked in gold cuffs. Tugged you to his chest and embraced you warmly. Hissed in your ear - abrasive like harsh sea spray - spies are everywhere.
He needed you close by. For reasons you had yet to fathom.
You dined like spoilt deity’s. Breads and wines, fish, fruits from far regions fattened by the suns heat, and succulent meat roasted in sweet cassia spices on a spit.
He had urns of flowers - picked by the servant - placed in every room. Lilies, juniper branches still bearing dark fruit, lavender, oleanders.
Companions join him and he is boastful of you. A nubile creature offered placement at a table of old muddled men. He introduces you to trusted friends and advisors in the senate.
One man in particular takes keen interest as to your recent arrival. His name was Macrinus. Man of information and resources. Dealt in cunning and cruelty though you found him sincerely charming. Your father watched you with a desperate eye.
Macrinus bore a smile so dazzling and blinding it made you dizzy; made think of the sun god. Apollo and his light cast across golden wheat fields. Notes of fine music. He sipped his wine slow, as he learned the flavour of your name. Where you came from. Understanding the rolling sea foam in your veins.
There’s a game to be held at the coliseum. He will have your father as his guest - and you by a very pretty extension. He nods at you; his eyes glimmer like pooled liquid gold in the half lit dark. It almost makes you feel safe.
They dine and drink into the small hours. Yet you slip away.
You watched this awful city out your window that night in your silk dress the colour of night time tidal waves. The air is stale. Carrion to you. Hot. Full of dust and sweat. Here, It smells like mulberry trees and a green garden waiting for blessed rain.
You couldn’t hear the sea. Or your sisters. Your mothers humming as she wove cloth and mended clothes. And you wept.
Salt found in your tears to be your only sacred comfort of home.
~
You are soft to this hard stone city. The coliseum is magnificent. As large as it is those who hold their powerful fists over its rule. Clutched in gold. Fine for the rich. Deadly for the slaves and warriors thrown into the pit at the whim of others. Met with carnivore teeth and sand and death.
The senators, generals, and the rich merchants watch from their perch, up among the gods they serve, presiding in shade and clothed in perfumed silks and jewels. Ladies and men both.
Your hair took hours to fasten in its current coiled style. Plaited and weaved. Your dress is the colour of the softest blue shore. Your servant lavished your arms and fingers in golden finery. A serpent cuff coiled around your arm. Skin draped in lemon oil because it’s the small piece of Corsica you carry here with you. Serenity to push against this place of gore, butchery and death.
You find yourself seated here amongst giants. Macrinus is seated one side. Your father the other. He fondly lays his hand across yours in gentle touch.
His palm is damp. Gold rings wet.
His face looks haggard with age. The lines by his eyes more prominent. Rome is poisoning him. The golden apple just a fingertip shy of his reach. St Bartholomew flayed and stripped of skin piece by piece. Schemes and plots lay thick in his mind like rot. Sweat beads down across his brow and the thinning salt pepper of his hair.
He says something to Macrinus that you’re too absorbed to hear. It’s low. Dragged through a growl. He appears unmoved, with a slow flick of his eyes to you. Watching this finery and loudness devour you. Your eyes so full wide and round. Salt and innocence entwined.
You all rise when the emperors pass by, Geta and Caracalla, who stride in, garbed in gold and cloaks. Come to take their rightful place at the mouth of the box where you are seated.
They are like twin suns to the Roman people. Lion gold hair kissed by fire. They burn and twist and shine with it. Make noises like gold coins that clack when they move. Strung in riches and golden crowns of olive leaves and branches.
Together they make you think of Romulus and Remus. Raised rabid by wolves. And they certainly make an impression. You’ve heard tale of the voracious nature of the blood sport they all but live for. Faces limned in the glory of gore.
The crowd cheers for them. They nod and wave but it appears barbed. The games begin with a wave of applause and a regal hand.
Caracalla twists and casts an eye in your direction. Seeing new meat.
The way you sit sedately and can’t cast your mind into the butchery and violence happening below. The clash of steel. The hollow squelching cries that proceed death. The spill of viscera and the scatter of brain matter from split heads.
Each new gash or split in skin made them smile. The taint of blood. Metallic sour. Spilling of offal and exposed bone.
He tilts his head like a clever wolf. Eyes darken. His sneer as terrible as a skulls. He leans across and whispers something to his brother with a knock of his arm to gain attention.
Another set of wolfish eyes join the first in hooking to your skin. Silly soft girl. Made of gentle sea breezes and lapping blue waves calm and soft enough to wade in. Pearl shining in moonlight. So watery and weak. So good. Untouchable.
Geta swept his gaze on you from head to toe. Appraising you hungrily through greedy eyes. The beauty of your figure in that soft folds of that stola. The gold that crushed your neck. Broaches at your fair shoulders. Hair glistening and finely arranged.
He liked the way you winced when another sword blow came. The pull of your brows and how you had to look away. He wanted you gathered up in his lap; fingers crushing your jaw as he turned your head; force you to watch as the men cleaved at each other and drew blood. Hacked off limbs. Laugh at your revulsion.
Looking at you sat there; He has an urge to take his dagger, slit that fine silk from your shoulders and bare your real beauty. Grab it off you and snatch your dress down. Spoil himself on your curves. Grab your breasts. He’s sure you’ve tits that even a goddess would envy. He’d reel you in by grabbing your ass that definitely needs a spank and some attention.
You’re even prettier than some of the finest whores he’s had grace his bed. They never kept his interest too long. Too entwined in filth and sin like him; you look pure as a vestal virgin.
He likes that. He wants to pluck it off you and spoil it.
You don’t dare meet his eyes. Of course you don’t. He’s an emperor. He could have you executed for looking at him wrongly. Instead; you wring your hands in your lap and squirm. Close your eyes tighter with every dying wail.
He turns back to the fight. As do you. A gasp flies from your mouth when you draw your eyes to one of the measly soldiers in the arena. Your father left his seat to stand, mouth gaping.
You saw the familiar arrangement of strong limbs. Garbed in warriors clothing. The way his arms shook holding a sword. Inexperienced and struggling. The fight was not fair. The same head of hair that matched your own.
Your oldest brother.
Macrinus grinned. “He’s not my finest fighter. But I wager he’ll be good sport.” He smirks.
Your father turned, cursed the gods, and exploded with venomous rage. Flew for the man with his fists. Grabbed his clothing. You tried to restrain the storm of his temper - but then you’d got that trait from somewhere hadn’t you? - an ocean thrashing wild and free. Terrifying in its rage.
“You promised me.” Your father roared. Spittle flying.
“I never promised to protect your traitor of a son. Let us see if the gods spare him. Yes?” Macrinus commented.
You couldn’t take your eyes from the pit. Nor could your father. He clutched to you like he could barely stand. Weakened and shrinking. Hand a vice on your shoulder. It burned like the sting of sun but you couldn’t shrug him off.
Your brother was meeting with an opponent far larger than he was. A Retiarius. Helmet, trident, dagger and a net.
Of which had currently knocked your brother to the blood dusted dirt. Spearing the trident deep into his thigh. Pinning him to earth like a bug. His cry of pain ringing out. Blood sheeted down one side of his head. His scream is the most horrible thing you’d ever heard.
You can’t help it. Where you’re stood, you cry out. It pours forth from you.
The Retiarius loomed over your bother like a terrible storm cloud. Looking up at the stands for direction. The whole audience cheered and screamed for more.
Geta stood up and the crowd bayed. He sneered at the sight before him. All the power of a god; crammed into a mortal man.
He raised his arm. And hesitated for a moment. Before he smirked. And pointed his thumb right up.
Death.
Your father wailed. The huge lumbering gladiator descended onto your brother. Flinging the net off and cutting his throat in one fast slice. Blood poured and pooled around lifeless eyes. Stained the sand.
Macrinus stood to his feet and clapped along with everyone else. The emperors’ laughed like hyenas at the sight. Blood and pain only made their smiles grow.
Before you knew what was happening, the palace guards had you and your father surrounded. Hands viced around your arms. Your shoulders. Your father too.
Traitor. He decried. A traitor in the senate. The tarpeian rock.
Just like his now dead son. People’s poised against the glory of Rome. Against Caracalla and Geta. Death to all.
Macrinus spoke harshly to the guards to release you. He backhanded you across your cheek. Your eye felt like it was going to burst. Cheek flamed with fire. Lip cut and bleeding down your chin from his ring.
He then wasted little time in digging his fingers into your finely done hair. Hauled you along screaming. Tears streaming.
Your father could only watch, limbs wrenching forwards in terror to help, as Macrinus marched you across the stands to where they sat.
He threw you to the ground like a feral animal. Tumbled you onto your knees. Skimmed your hands. As you squirmed and cried at your body twisted to his cruelty.
“Your majesties. I have personally uncovered a traitor in your court. Senator Aurelius. Not only was his first born placed in rebellion against Rome. But he himself has been sowing seeds of treason in your senate. I bring you his filthy kin as recompense…” He spat at the Emperors. Releasing your mussed hair to throw you to their feet.
They examined you as one would a creature. Nothing of humanity left. Devoid of any feeling. You crawled slowly to your elbows. Tried to claw away sobs. Raising up but not daring to look at them. You weren’t worthy. You feared them.
Geta was the one who rose slowly to his feet. Coming to stand before you. “We are most grateful for your revelation, Macrinus. You will be rewarded for such loyal service.” Though he spoke to him, his eyes never left you.
You father shouted and cried pleas. They go unheard. He snaps to the guards who hold him. “Silence that treacherous snake-“ he barks. They beat him into submission.
You stay cowering on the ground. In amongst the gritty dirt, and the blood like those slaves and gladiators. That’s how they saw you. That’s how much you were worth. Held in the same regard as the dirt on their shoes.
You feel a ring clad hand tip a finger under your chin. Blood dripping down onto that digit as he made you raise your head to look at him until your neck hurt.
“What is your name, pretty little traitor-“ He sneers. Because that is all you are. They’ve tarred and feathered you with the same brush.
You give it to him through tears that run freely. You give this awful golden haired emperor with dark lecherous eyes your name.
“Salacia.” You cry. Voice watery and cloaked in heavy salty sobs. Lips parted. So soft and pliable. Lovely and ripe and waiting for him. A gift from the gods-
He tilts his head down at you. Looking like some sun gold lion. Showing his canines in a cruel white smile.
“Imprison them. Both.” He smirks.
He thinks he may have them bring him your fathers head on a platter. Strangulation seemed too soft. Too forgiving. He had to make an example of you.
He had a particular way in mind for your fate. He watched you get led away crying as he sucked your sweet blood off his thumb.
You tasted like salt and sea foam
~
Tagging in the hopes this finds its way to the right people—
@indouloureux @trashmouth-richie @atabigail @lunatictardis @waywardrose @ceriseheaven @hillarymurray4 @lurkingprincess @ramona-thorns @joequinnswhore @iliveforotps @eddiesskittle @roosterisdaddy36 @rose-tinted @lluviamg06 @ravensfromvalhalla @fujiihime @youaremyfamiliar @captain-tch @ghosttownwherenoonegoes @svenyves @sammararaven @feralgoblinbabe @groupie-love-71 @andromeda-andromeda @morganamoonstone @gvtosbith @munsonswhore @shenevertricks1831 @hazzaismyreligion @harrys-titties @anaisweird @cinnamoncunt @red-lipstick-bisexual @wheels-of-despair @tvserie-s-world @callmeloverr @ho-for-joequinn-fics @bettyfrommars @rip-quizilla @songforeddiemunson @usedtobecooler @peachesandfiends @littlelioncub43 @heyndrix @babybluebex @blueywrites @joejoequinnquinn @cool-nick-miller @sheneedsrocknroll92 @rehfan @pedgito @dracomaledicte @gamingaquarius @mypoisonedvine @ddejavvu @sharp-and-swift @chaptersleftunwritten
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ceaselesswatchersspecialboy · 2 months ago
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With the not as he seems au how would the gideon plotline work in regards to Bill's involvement? Also I'm loving your au it's so interesting!
I considered a few options for this, but settled on one in particular. I haven’t worked out everything yet, so this will just be the stuff I have worked out. Being as Gideon’s takeover of the shack and all is how Stan got Journal 2 in canon, and was a major catalyst for the portal, I wanted the Gideon plot to retain that major catalyst factor.
I don’t have too many details yet, but the general gist is that Bill, by proxy, also has a rivalry with Gideon. Although, the main rivalry is still with Stan, and Gideon views ‘Stanford’ as more of the Pines family’s annoying, attack dog — the threat he has to eliminate before he can commit to any scheme.
The reason for this is Bill is a far more active tormentor of Gideon. Gideon bit first and so he bites back. That type of dynamic.
Most stuff at the beginning is the same besides that, although I do have some extra plot lines and also interactions I probably wanna consider.
But Dreamscaperers is where stuff becomes strange. Again, I don’t have all the details right now, but I do have the main catalyst for the plot, which is that Gideon’s summon of Bill actually works. For the first time in thirty years, Bill is in his own body (in a sense), but from Stan and Dipper’s POV, they just watched Ford’s body pass out suddenly without cause.
The other important beats here:
- Bill does not take the deal with Gideon. He claims he already has a deal with Stan that he can’t break, and while that technically isn’t a lie, there’s an array of reasons as to why he doesn’t take it.
- Bill does not stay freed, and once his summoning is over, he wakes up back in Ford’s body.
- Gideon Rises does still happen, Gideon just resorts to TNT earlier.
- Mabel and Dipper start investigating into their Grunkle Ford’s relationship with Bill after Mabel and Soos, like in canon, witnessed the summoning. Between the worrying entries in the journal and ‘Ford’s tendency to don triangular jewellery and the colour yellow, they suspect something is amiss. He suspiciously keeps dodging the questions too. But the Mystery Twins are on the case! Cue Dipper’s Guide to the Unexplained: Grunkle Ford’s Tattoos.
- Stan ends up summoning Bill during Scaryoke, which is why he’s down in the basement initially before coming up to protect the kids. And, like with Gideon, it actually works. It’s only temporary, and Ford’s body always passes out instead of Ford returning to consciousness, but it’s absolutely a step. It’s also the first time Stan sees Bill and hears his actual voice, and he’s laughing for ten minutes straight.
That’s all the rough stuff I have right now! I’m probably gonna work on the finer details some more over time, especially Gideon’s plot as a whole and if Gideon Rises would change much.
And thank you!! I’m glad the AU is enjoyed!
I also do have these very quick doodles I did while brainstorming.
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live-laugh-lenney · 8 months ago
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You should so do a fic where the reader has a podcast (like saving grace) and everyone noticed how comparable she and Arthur seem he. He’s a guest (even though she’s like much more extroverted) would be fun🤞❤️
oh, this would be so cute :'))
if there was one thing yn felt comfortable doing, it was waffling.
she just loved to talk. about anything and everything, from what she had read on twitter to what she had heard about online to a brand new documentary that she had taken an interest in when flicking the channels on the television. delving deep into topics that had endless possibilities, spewing off facts that she'd read about online and putting her own thoughts forward in certain aspects that she found interesting and favourable to whoever she was with.
when she came up with the idea of hosting her very own podcast, in the middle of a housewarming party for one of her friends, she was excited to have a platform where she could let her own thoughts be freed yet she was also terrified it wouldn't take off and that she'd make it to a respectful ten episodes before she gave in and decided it wasn't something that the world needed.
when her first episode came out, she had asked james marriott to be her very first guest. one of her best friends, someone she had known for a while, someone who she felt comfortable around and gave her the space to speak freely without making her feel judged. allowing him to promote his new album as well as allowing them to discuss all kinds of musical knowledge from who their favourite bands were and who he would love to open for on a world tour.
and it took off.
earning herself over half a million views in the passing of one day, a lot of youtube subscribers who were offering their own suggestions on the different guests she could have and the more positivity she saw, the more she read, the more excited she was to continue.
she had herself a sweet studio; big beanbags instead of chairs, with a blanket draped over the back of each one and a decorative pillow that was there for added comfort and matched the colour scheme of the whole room, with shelves nailed to the wall full of relatable objects and images that fit her branding - images of her friends, her podcast name in neon lights and a few faux plants that hung low. it was just a simple setup but it felt homely and that was the vibe she had planned from the very beginning.
"good morning, good afternoon or good evening, depending on when you're checking in. i'm yn and welcome back to the one and only podcast on youtube dot com where we just sit and talk shit for an hour," she grins widely at the camera, cosying back into the beanbag beneath her and crossing her legs, hand holding the microphone to her lips, "today, we're joined the king of 90 day fiancé. it's mister arthur television."
"hello, hi."
he gives the camera a short wave and smiles widely, already having cosied himself down in a similar manner to the way yn was sitting in her beanbag, their shoes (both a sucker for comfort and choosing their air force 1's over any other trainer) kicked off aimlessly onto the rug in the middle of the room and left in a heap, his jacket draped over the back of his seat.
"thank you for having me," he looks in her direction, "this is definitely one of my favourite sets i've ever been on. it feels so homey and wholesome."
"i tried to base it on what my bedroom back home used to look like as a teenager," she giggles softly, looking over her shoulder and flicking on the orb lamp that was placed on a shelf above their heads for a bit of additional lighting to fit the ambience of the room, "i was such a tumblr girl growing up, i think it shows."
"i was gon'a say," he laughs and she rolls her eyes in his direction, "it feels very nice. very comforting. especially with the blankets."
"my nana knitted them for me," yn states, "just for this podcast. she's an avid listener, my number one fan, ."
"really?"
"no. i'm kidding," yn laughs softly and he looks across to her, "i don't think she really gets the whole podcast thing, to be honest. she's only just started to understand the whole youtube thing, bless her. she's a sweet soul and i love her but she's so innocent when it comes to all things technological."
"you should use that story more," arthur insists and adjusts himself in the seat as he felt himself sliding down into a slouch, "it adds more story to the setup. it's cute."
"i'll tell her you said that. she'll love it," yn giggles, 'but, anyway. you, arthur frederick, are one of my most requested guests to appear on my podcast."
arthur's eyes widened and he can feel the heat covering his cheeks as he looks across to her, microphone still held tight to his lips, hoping it hid the shy smile that grew on his lips.
"seriously. i had people practically spamming me on twitter to get you on here," she explains and looks at the camera, "you're a loved man, aren't you?"
"i guess i am," he admits shyly, "people are also asking me and isaac to get you on the bach and arthur podcast. close second to george."
"we'll have to make that happen," yn grins widely, "the viewers would love that crossover. chaos crew and little ol' me."
"i think you'd fit in perfectly," he says, "at least i'll have someone on there that appreciates my facts and interesting tidbits of information. it gets lost amongst them. they're not so intelligent when it comes to you and i."
she snorts and shakes her head, dropping her eyes down to her lap before she looks back up; he wasn't lying, truth be told. she was no stranger to being in a conversation with him, at parties and at events both of them were attending, that involved exchanged fact after fact after fact with each other, hours passing by as they discussed nature topics and the newest piece of information to do with outer space and all the theories coming from online.
with the hour closing in, she didn't want the conversations to end. and she knew, in the back of her mind, that she needed him back on her podcast for another episode because he understood her. and she understood him. and their talks flowed effortlessly with no need for extra encouragement from those around them in the room.
he was an interesting man and she wanted more.
both personally and for her podcast.
--
anyone else getting heart eye vibes from the two of them???
yn was in her element for this episode!!
arthur being on this podcast just made my day. we need more of the two of them!!!
the way there was no silence at all this entire episode. conversations flow between these two.
the two of them are the same person, i swear.
without a doubt, arthur is the male version of yn. that's adorable.
its like the universe copied and pasted their personalities into two people of the opposite genders. that's so cute!!
--
"the podcast episode was a hit thanks to you."
yn surprises him and made him jump as she approached him at the bar, his figure turning from where he was stood with his back to her so he could pull her in for a hug, and she grins up at him before her own arms wrapped around his waist. a sex on the beach cocktail held tight in her hand and she was careful not to spill it down the back of his shirt.
"i was wondering where you were," he says and lets go of her to pick up his beer that had been placed on the bartop, "when you texted me to say you were coming to chris' birthday drinks, i knew i had to come and find you when you arrived."
"looks like i beat you to it," she says and she takes a sip of her drink through the straw, "people loved the two of us together on there."
"yeah?"
she nods quickly.
"i'm pretty sure it was the best episode to date. figures wise," she says and he grins widely, looking over her shoulder and seeing a free table in the corner of the room, using his head to indicate for her to look at where he was looking, "i'm gon'a need you to feature again, for sure."
she turns on her heels and wiggles her way through the crowd, the feeling of his hand resting on the base of her back driving her insane as she set her drink down on the table and hopped up on the stool, watching as he did the same.
"i'm not keeping you from chris, am i?"
"no, he's about to hop on the karaoke with isaac," arthur cackles out loud and looks over his shoulder at where his two friends were arguing over the song book, "i'm too sober for that at the moment so I can't think of anything worse right now."
"you're not one of those party poopers, are you?"
"no," he shakes his head, "i just need to be almost blackout drunk in order to belt out my lungs really, really poorly."
"i think i need to get some shots in you then because i really need to see that tonight." xx
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huginsmemory · 8 months ago
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Thinking about how deliberately colour coded the touden siblings are to the winged lion. Like they have gold eyes and blond hair, directly correlating themselves to the winged lion by colour scheme... And when they both become monstrous, they BOTH are represented with feathers around their neck and chest areas; as the red dragon has no feathers but chimera Falin DOES is interesting as it points to something specific to Falin... only to be repeated when Laios shifts and has the same feathers in the exact same area suggesting it's something unique to the Toudens. I mean whether that really has merit is obtuse really, but if we're going for the winged lion representation angle it makes sense. Interestingly, Marcille also has blonde hair but she has green eyes; not so obviously tied to the winged lion, even if she ends up becoming the dungeon master.
And I wonder if it's a representation within the touden siblings at how by the end they represent/become the lion. Laios is very clear; by consuming the winged lion, he 'becomes one' with the lion, in the most base sense of what you eat you literally are made of... and also in how incredibly horny the panel is. And then quite literally his result of eating the winged lion he's doomed to forever feel hungry and never feel sated; the same thing the winged lion represents, desire without end. He becomes in a way, the winged lion, a human representative of him, after his body also quite literally becoming the human representative of the winged lion, when the winged lion walks around in his own skin. The two of them are foils; both driven by the desire to consume, one a monster and with a desire to consume chiefly humans, while for the other a human the desire to consume monsters, and they in the end swap places; the human becoming a monster and a monster becoming a human, each granting each other their forms. They become in that way instrinsically twisted, and the tables turn on the Lion as the Lion instead of feasting on Laios becomes the one feasted on instead in the same way the Lion normally feasts; again, Laios becoming the lion. Of course, the lion represents more than just un-ending desire, chiefly the portion which talks about the issue of capitalism unchecked desire and consumption. But I think in a way, perhaps that's what is also being hinted too; the way within a community people can help check other peoples desires or help people have desires as is seen in the end with both Marcille and Mithrun. A non-destructive representation of the winged lion one might say. Also, one may say he also becomes the true 'lord of the dungeon' as the winged lion ceases to exist, Laios now ruling instead, taking the winged lions place.
In regards to Falin there's perhaps less obvious or deliberate foiling in comparison, but I think she still by the end in a way represents the winged lion. Chiefly, I think, by her in the first place, being alive; the black magic that brought her back is exactly what invited the winged lion to their world in the first place; without the winged lions existence through the tapping into outside reality, Falin would not be alive. In much the same way, her flesh was created from the red dragon, a creation of the dungeon, and so winged lion. She's only alive in the beginning because of the winged lion, so she represents in a way that no other person does in the manga the winged lion; not a prey of the winged lion, but a creation, or something saved through the winged lion. It's also interesting to see that what she retains is her feathers (even if they're white, not gold) once she's again revived.... squints suspiciously.
Anyways I think there's probably also a lot more coherent things that can be pulled from this analysis but I'm just rambling on about it tbh...I need to reread the manga...
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empressofthewind · 4 months ago
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Ranking All Of Matt's Aesthetics
#1 - Fanon Aesthetic (Red Hair x Black & White Shirt)
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I believe this combo was the fandom consensus for years while his only canon appearance was from the greyscale manga. This is the only one on this list that doesn't appear in any canon or canon-adjacent material, yet it's the only colour scheme I actually associate with him. Love it, absolutely iconic, there's a reason why it's stuck around so long. 10/10
(Image found here by Chibionpu on DeviantArt!!)
#2 - Anime Aesthetic (Brown Hair x Black & Red Shirt)
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I've seen some people say his hair is green here, but there's another appearance that looks much more obviously green to me, so I'm counting it as brown. I like this aesthetic a lot! It's less distinctive than the red hair x b&w shirt, but the colour palette works well and I like the way this particular shade of brown complements the amber hue of his goggles. 9/10
#3 - Trading Card Aesthetic (Green Hair x Black & Red Shirt)
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This one comes from the trading cards, and I think the green hair looks surprisingly good! I respect the creativity and I think this is the most visually interesting look on the list. Where it loses marks for me is in the overall lack of consistency; the bright green hair, orange goggles and red shirt just don't mix particularly well. However I'm very fond of forest green and I'm always a little weak for artificial hair colours in general. Very swag. 7/10
#4 - Coloured Manga Aesthetic (Black Hair x Black & Red Shirt)
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This is from the unofficial coloured manga. Honestly I think it's the most coherent aesthetic of them all (the black boots + black hair + black stripes) and I much prefer the bold red to the dusky hue of the anime & trading card shirts. I just find it a little underwhelming on the whole. It's a safe option lacking any real personality or flair. 5/10
#5 - DS Game Aesthetic (Blue Hair x Blue & White Shirt)
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This is from the Successor to L DS game. It gets points for uniqueness, but that’s really all this look has going for it. It's incredibly difficult to go wrong with blue, but they somehow managed to pick what I would subjectively call the only two bad shades of it in existence. He looks like a young man cosplaying a middle-aged mad scientist. 2/10
#6 - Anime Guidebook Aesthetic (Brown Hair x No Goggles)
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Who the fuck is that. -1000/10
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chriskotiesen · 6 months ago
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How do you think of your wonderful beasts?
Usually I start with really vague ideas for shapes or colour schemes and just make the creatures up as I go along. Most of the time I'm aiming to make something that has personality but isn't too easy to compare to any existing animal. If it's too boring then I'll weird it up a bit by rearranging parts or throwing on extra shapes. If it's too abstract then I'll swap in some more realistic animal features.
I saved some in-progress pics of yesterday's creature to step through the process:
I started by giving myself the very open-ended task of drawing a creature with a mouth in an unusual place. When sketching digitally I often like to forgo lineart and just play with blocks of colour.
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Why is it crescent shaped? Why is it orange? I dunno. But I think that I can turn this into a body with the mouth at the centre of the mass. There are certainly weirder and more interesting places to put a mouth then in the belly, but I don't really know how this sketch is going to go from here. Maybe I'll put more mouths on the feet or something. Finding out is part of the fun.
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Let's start simple. I figure that it should have arms to pick up food, as well as eyes and a nose to clearly define a 'head' somewhere away from the mouth. Okay now it looks like a creature, but not one that I particularly like. Also there's nothing between the nose and the mouth so it looks less like it has a mouth in its stomach and more like it just has a really big, weirdly-shaped head. I can fix that if I move the arms above the mouth. And I'll give it a tail and another bend in the torso to balance it out and make it less front-heavy.
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Now we're getting somewhere. I'm starting to like this for reasons entirely unrelated to the mouth, so I'll just remove it completely. It's getting in the way of the rest of the anatomy. There's no client or art director dictating what I need to make here. The initial premise is just a jumping-off point and I can ditch it entirely if the design works better without it. I like this bug-eyed, cobra-hooded aardvark-centaur-dragon-thing. That seems like enough of a creature without throwing on extra features.
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I try to keep my palette organized and only add more colours when they feel necessary. The countershading here helps to define the creature's shape a bit better and break up all of that orange, as well as just making it a little more realistic. I made the tail bigger just because I like what that does for the 2d composition of the picture.
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Cleaning up the shadows also helps to make the volume read a bit better. The stripes help too, but I mostly added them to break up the orange some more and make the creature more interesting. I also started laying in some blobs of colour for a background. Now that all of the basics are in place it's just a matter of adjusting colours and polishing out details until I'm either happy with it or just sick of looking at it!
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Done!
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moanz111 · 29 days ago
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✩°⋆。 system error ⋆。°✩ - 20
chapter 20 ✧ unforeseen circumstances - written + texts
< previous ✧ m.list ✧ next >
synopsis ✧ you've always dreamt of having your fantasy-like love story. naturally, hearing the sweet melodic ring of your love alarm was what you wanted the most, right? until it actually happened. four times.
pairing ✧ uni student! choi san x fem! uni student! reader
wc ✧ 4.2 k (i apologise)
warnings ✧ english is not my native language so there could be mistakes; attempt for humour; reader is confused af and so is san; swearing; mentioned fear of heights (reader is a bit scared but the description is very brief and she's riding a ferris wheel); reader is in an emotional crisis lowkey; lmk if i've missed something
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If you got a penny every time you got yourself into an extremely uncomfortable situation, you would’ve had at least 20 by now and it was just 1 pm. 
You weren't going home anytime soon. 
“Y/n, stop spacing out. We still have 2 more hours,” Beomgyu whispered in your ear, nudging you with his elbow. You had agreed to come to this so-called “Love Alarm” dating event just to make him happy and maybe test your own alarm again, but you hadn’t had any idea it was going to be this excruciating for your poor soul. You tried your best to smile, talk to people when they showed interest but with each interaction your social battery was rapidly dying. Beomgyu, on the other hand, seemed to be having the time of his life which made you feel a little guilty for having running away thoughts.
The park was bustling with students and music could be heard playing from speakers placed on the ground. Most of the benches were occupied by groups of friends or newly found matches that the alarm had brought together. A pinch of jealousy stung your heart by the sight of them. 
Wish my alarm and I weren't in a dysfunctional toxic relationship.
You let your eyes wander, trying to spot familiar faces even though the thought of someone you knew seeing you there, mortified you. The possibility of that wasn’t high but never zero since all of your university’s students were invited and granted an entry. You found it kind of funny - the way so many were positive their soulmate was walking the same ground as them right now and what they were waiting for was the love alarm to bring them together. For some that would be the case but others were surely up for disappointment. No one really knew how the whole mechanism worked and it appeared that everything was random - the time, the place but the alarm was certain of one thing - the person. 
Shaking your head as if it could chase away your thoughts, you took in the atmosphere and breathed in the fresh early spring air, the warm breeze ruffling  your hair which you moved out of your face, annoyed. 
“Can’t we go sit down and eat? If I talk to one more man, I’ll explode,” you said, stopping in your tracks and pointing towards an empty blanket on the grass near you. A bunch of people were lying down on the field, chatting, eating or playing board games. You wished you had brought your cards deck. A rematch with Beomgyu was all you wanted after he had beaten you in a game of war last weekend. 
“Fine,” Beomgyu rolled his eyes, strolling towards it and you followed quietly behind him. If you made him talk enough and maybe made him ride the ferris wheel with you, maybe he would get tired enough so both of you could go home. As if sensing your plan, he abruptly turned around, “Stop scheming, we aren't leaving.”
You let out a sigh and sat down on the white blanket with colourful flowers drawn on it. It was warm and fluffy and it tickled your hands as you plopped yourself down, supporting your body on your elbows. Maybe if you fell asleep then…
“Hey, isn't that Wooyoung?”
Yeah, your plan was definitely going down the drain. 
If Wooyoung saw you here, he would make fun of you for centuries and he could even tell Mingi about it. Or even worse. Choi San.
Choi San? Who was currently walking beside his friend, apparently not having spotted you yet.
He had a white t-shirt and a black leather jacket on, his black jeans matching it. A beanie of the same colour was covering his hair and you noticed a necklace dangling around his neck. 
He looked…good?
... handsome? 
You shoved your thoughts away and focused on Wooyoung instead who wore his usual black Chrome Hearts hoodie and some baggy jeans, a beanie on his head. The two boys’ outfits matched which made you smile to yourself. But who were you to laugh when you and Beomgyu weren't any better. Your closets were basically almost identical. 
“Over here,” Beomgyu shouted as he got up to catch their attention. This was going to be the most mortifying interaction of the day. 
Another penny added.
“Beomgyu, don't call them over here,” you whispered as you got up to a seated position, tugging at his jeans. 
“Don’t be so obsessed with me, they’re my friends too.”
You snorted at his answer, turning to look at the boys who were approaching you. Wooyoung was enthusiastically waving in your direction while San looked indifferent to what was about to happen.
Lately, it was harder to be around him. After he made the step to try and make amends with you, you weren't sure how to behave around him. Did that make you friends again? Or maybe just acquaintances? Whatever it was you tried your hardest to be on your best behaviour especially for Wooyoung and Mingi’s sake. For Seonghwa’s too. You had no idea how he managed to stay so composed while you bickered over nothing during tutoring. Maybe he was due his apology soon.
“Now, now, look who we have here,” Wooyoung exclaimed as he stood in front of you, grinning. San was next to him, greeting Beomgyu with a hug. “I’m hurt, Y/n. You could've just asked me out instead of coming here.”
“You and Y/n? I’d rather bleach my eyes than witness this,” Beomgyu chimed in before you got the chance to respond to which Wooyoung laughed.
“Makes two of us,” San added, a slight annoyance apparent in his tone, and you looked at him curiously. For the first time in a while you weren't met with his cold eyes, piercing right through you. His gaze was warm, maybe even friendly? 
My brain is playing tricks on me.
“Don’t be so jealous, Sannie,” Wooyoung said, tapping him on the shoulder which earned him a smack on the neck. “Ouch?”
“Deserved,” Beomgyu laughed and looked over at you. “Cat got your tongue? Oh, right, she said she doesn't want to talk to men anymore today.”
“Trust me, you will get the longest silent treatment out of everyone here.”
“Mean.”
“So what are you two doing here?” Wooyoung asked, changing the topic just as you and Beomgyu were about to start bickering again. Truly fascinating how the biggest instigators turned into peacemakers in dire situations. 
“Y/n wants a boyfriend and since I’m an amazing friend, I came to judge her questionable taste,” Beomgyu teased and you pulled at the fabric of his jeans again, making him slightly lose his balance. 
“He wanted to say he was the one who dragged me here because he can't go anywhere alone,” you said in a matter of fact tone which got a chuckle out of Wooyoung. 
“This version is more believable.”
“And what about you two,” you asked, trying to sound as nonchalantly as possible even though curiosity burned in you. You could imagine Wooyoung coming to an event like that but San? It wasn’t like you knew him that well anyway, maybe he was looking for a partner. For some reason, the thought of that made your stomach twist a little. 
Huh…?
“I dragged San here,” Wooyoung announced proudly and wrapped his hand around his friend’s wide shoulders and San threw him a sarcastic smile. “Don't tell anyone though, it's between the four of us.”
“Yeah, and the 10 other people who saw us here and greeted you,” San added.
“Oh, well…That’s something I can’t control. Having a pretty face means attracting attention.”
“Anyway, why don't we hang out for some time? Y/n and I were just about to eat,” Beomgyu suggested suddenly and all you could do was to side eye him. Sure, of course they were his friends but you and San in the same space was never a good idea.
“A spectacular idea!” Wooyoung’s enthusiasm was contagious. You had to calm down and enjoy the moment, Choi San wasn't the cause of every problem in the universe and he wasn't even that bad. He had a good sense of humour and he had a pretty laugh and dimples and you loved his habit of him closing his eyes when he found something funny and-
“Y/n to Earth…” Beomgyu’s voice brought you back to reality and you shook your head. What was in the air today? Maybe it was the pollen that had you acting this weirdly? “You totally spaced out.”
“Yeah, sorry,” you said after coughing quietly to clear your voice and you shifted your focus to Wooyoung who you thought had probably said something moments ago, judging by the amused expression on his face. Staring at your shoes all day and spacing out wasn't going to make things better. “What were you saying?”
“I said me and Beomgyu will go grab some food from the trucks and you and San can stay here and wait,” he repeated and you shifted uncomfortably in your place. Yes, the universe was testing you.
Sure, you had been alone with him plenty of times be it for tutoring or when you used to hang out before but now it felt different. Your nerves were going to eat you inside out. 
San had an unreadable expression on his face when you looked at him and Beomgyu just winked (?) at you when you turned to him so you just shrugged. “I’m okay with that.”
“I’m okay with that, too,” added San and Beomgyu and Wooyoung looked at each other, a knowing smile forming on both of their lips. 
“Then we’re set,” Beomgyu clapped his hands and patted you on the shoulder as he bent to pick up his bag from the ground. “Behave yourself.”
“What am I? A dog?”
“Obviously. Then, see you in a bit.” As both Beomgyu and Wooyoung turned their back on you and walked towards the food trucks, you felt abandoned. Maybe that was a little dramatic. San was just San. No need to be so stressed. You could just sit in silence and that was going to be it. No need to have a conversation. 
“So how are you doing?” San asked as he laid down on his side next to you, his hand supporting his head. You could sense the scent of his perfume and his biceps were basically almost ripping his jacket in this position. His face was glowing, his clear skin illuminated by the sunlight, gently coming through the tree’s branches. Mentally, you slapped yourself across the face. Staring was rude. 
“I’m alright,” you answered, trying to find strength again. You seriously needed to stand up. Choi San shouldn't have had that much power over your mind. “Exhausted after the social torture Beomgyu put me through.”
San chuckled at your comment, his dimples slightly appearing. “I guess I understand why he and Wooyoung get along.”
“They’re friends?” 
“Shouldn't you know that,” he asked, confused, one of his eyebrows raised. You knew they knew each other. Obviously, Beomgyu was close with San so it was only natural for him to be around Wooyoung too but your friend never talked about this, given how your relationship with San was. 
“I just had no idea they were that close,” you said simply. San regarded you curiously for a moment before speaking again. “I think they’ve got closer recently. I don't know how or why but they’ve been spending a lot of time together.”
“Then they’re definitely up to no good.” This was truly interesting. Beomgyu was notorious for doing things behind your back so you wondered if this was the case this time around too. Him making remarks about your dating life all the time, telling you to stop “adding more men to the equation”, him giving Wooyoung your number, you joining his talent show team, him flirting all the time, San, his best friend and your arch nemesis, suddenly following you on your social media and being kind of friendly, and now Beomgyu dragging you here and Wooyoung was miraculously here too? Was he…No way. There was no way.
Was he setting you up with Wooyoung? 
The thought made you shiver. There was just no way for this to be happening. 
You stopped yourself from gasping at the realisation and instead closed your eyes to take a deep breath. Beomgyu was going to get an earful from you very soon.
Maybe you could ask San about it? But what were you going to say to him?
Hey, I think my best friend is trying to set me up with your best friend so I wanted to ask you if he’s in love with me?
I sound so delusional and out of my mind.
You chose silence and turned to look at San who was staring at the small stage being set up a few meters away from you. There was going to be a concert later in the afternoon organised by the university’s band and you wondered if Beomgyu would make you stick around for this long to watch it. 
Suddenly, your phone vibrated in your tote bag and you took it out, seeing you’ve got a text from Beomgyu.
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You sighed, locking your phone and turning to San again. “Beomgyu said Wooyoung feels sick so they went back to the dorms.”
“What? Is he okay? I should go there too,” San said and took out his phone. 
“He said they didn't need help and he just needed to take some pills. But you can text him, just in case…” you trailed off, unsure of what to do now. San didn't answer, instead focusing on his phone, seemingly reading a text. His eyebrows furrowed more and more with each movement of his eyes and he rubbed his temples with his free hand. “Yeah, he has texted me. Apparently, he doesn't need any more assistance and will take a nap.”
“Well, then I won't keep you if you want to go home too,” you said even though you weren't sure if you wanted to do that yet. Yes, you absolutely hated the speed dating and Beomgyu dragging you around but this was also a chance to maybe find out what Choi San’s issue with you was. If you cornered him…
That sounds too insane.
“No! I mean,” San hesitated. “We can at least grab some lunch together. Wouldn't hurt, would it?”
“I suppose not,” you said, smiling slightly and surprisingly San did the same.
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Hanging out with your so-called arch nemesis wasn't as bad as you thought it could be. 
San ordered for you, paid for your lunch, treated you to some bubble tea and then got you ice cream. Yeah, maybe it sounded like wallet abuse on your part but in reality he just kept insisting on doing all this and wouldn't hear any of your protests. It was a bit flustering even if you were secretly enjoying it. His company was also nice. He was respectful, kept the conversation going and surprisingly he seemed to be having a good time too. 
Time seemed to pass by quickly while you were together. You found yourself talking about anything and everything with him - he told you about his current florist job, how annoying some customers were and how much he adored making bouquets and arrangements, and you told him about your love for clothes and fashion and how you still haven’t returned Hongjoong his sewing machine. You joked, you laughed and you felt liberated in a way. For the first time in a while  you didn’t have to tiptoe around San, too afraid that the thin ice beneath your feet was going to crumble.
Is this what happens when we aren't so stubborn?
Currently, you were sitting on a bench, taking in the atmosphere around you in comfortable silence as the last sunbeams were illuminating the sky. The sunset painted it in shades of orange, pink and purple and you sighed contently, bopping your head in the rhythm of the song that the university’s band was rehearsing. A small group of people had already gathered and was clapping in encouragement after each song. San was humming quietly next to you, tapping with his foot and you snorted. “Don’t you think it’s a little unfair?”
“What do you mean,” he said surprised and turned to look at you. His natural soft blush could be seen on his cheeks and your heart warmed up at the sight. For probably the 10th time today. He had taken his beanie earlier and now his messy locks were falling freely around his face.
“Being good at dancing and now even at singing? Can’t you leave something for the rest of us?”
Your comment earned you a chuckle from San, his fist coming up to cover his lips. you could swear his cheeks turned into a deeper shade of red. “No need to exaggerate, Y/n. Lying is bad.”
“Hey, I’m being serious,” you exclaimed. “But better hide that talent from Beomgyu. He would get even more mad that we aren’t in the same team for the talent show. I heard he has been looking for a vocalist.”
“And while we’re still on the topic,” San said, running his hand through his dark hair. “Why did you agree to join our team?”
“It was a good opportunity to practice my skills. Plus, Wooyoung was way too enthusiastic for me to turn him down.”
“Even though you have to spend more time with me too?” When you met his eyes, a glint of hope and maybe hurt could be read in them. When had things gone so irrevocably wrong with both of you? 
“Listen,” you started, unsure of what to say. There wasn’t truly a right or wrong answer. “I don’t mind spending time with you, it’s just so…”
“Awkward?” “You could say so. But it’s also hard because I have no idea what I have done to you. I want to fix this,” you gestured to the space between you two. “But again - you aren’t helping. Maybe I’m not doing it either. We’re both stubborn.”
“Yes, we are I suppose,” San agreed, seemingly deep in thought. “I just don’t know how much I can tell you and how much you know…”
“What do you mean?”
A ding interrupted San who had just opened his mouth to answer. “I’m sorry.”
You hurriedly took your phone out of your pocket and saw you had 5 new texts from none other than Beomgyu.
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Feeling your heart picking up its pace, you clenched your jaw. You were so so so so wrong earlier. Beomgyu wasn’t setting you up with Wooyoung. 
It was San all along.
The tutoring, the way Beomgyu was so opposed of you hanging out with Yeonjun, the way he was trying his hardest to force you and San to interact...
You wondered if Wooyoung was his accomplice then and what had he told San? Did San know anything? 
“Hey, are you okay? You look a little pale,” San’s voice interrupted your thoughts and you locked your phone, forcing yourself to look at his now concerned face as he put his hand on your shoulder. 
“Everything’s alright. It’s just Beomgyu being a menace.” You smiled lightly and you fought the urge to get up and run away. 
Even if the situation was becoming severely uncomfortable with each passing second, this all didn’t automatically overrule how happy you were with San today. You got to see his usual sweet self and not whatever was presented to you on the daily. You also had got so close to him opening up to you so you couldn’t just leave him like that. Your heart was greedy to spend some more time with him before you had to deal with whatever Beomgyu thought he was doing. 
“Are you scared of heights?” Your sudden question made San furrowed his brows confused and you just pointed to the ferris wheel shyly. 
As San took your hand gently and led you to the tickets queue, all you could see were his deep dimples.
Yes, you were positive your heart was going to burst today.
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You were a little scared of heights. 
But exposure therapy worked, right? It had to because currently you were hanging meters away from the ground and the only thing you could think about was how you were almost able to feel San’s breath hitting your face. The cabin was rather small and his form being much bigger than yours meant he was taking most of the space even if you were sitting across from each other. Your legs were between his and occasionally your knees would touch which sent a jolt down your spine that you were desperately trying to ignore. 
Instead, you focused on the view before you - the sun had completely disappeared under the moon’s watchful gaze and now the city’s  and the campus’ lights were shimmering like stars in the distance. San’s surprised squeaks would make you giggle now and then when he was showing you something he had spotted while the ferris wheel was spinning slowly. 
“This is my first time riding a ferris wheel,” San said quietly, drawing your attention back to him. Even though the cabin lacked lighting, you could still see the playfulness in his eyes as he looked at you intently. 
“It’s my first time too,” you admitted, fiddling with your fingers in your lap. Was it always this hot here? 
“Really? That’s rather special, Y/n,” San teased you. “Wouldn’t you rather share this moment with someone else? I’ll start thinking we’re friends.” “Well,” you coughed, clearing up your voice. “I’d say I would like to consider us friends given how civilised we were today.”
San laughed loudly, his whole body shaking, “That’s true. Then - friends?”
“Friends,” you answered grinning and took his extended hand to shake it, sealing your deal. His hand was hugging yours completely and you wished you could stay like this a little longer when you lost contact with his skin. “You still haven’t told me the whole story behind our enemies era though.”
“Shouldn’t you tell me your point of view too?
“I was just returning the energy you were giving me.”
“Deserved,” he sighed, shaking his head. “Let’s say this can wait for another time. I don’t want to ruin this moment like any other we’ve had lately.”
Something passed in his eyes, an emotion you couldn’t quite decipher but when were you able to do it when it came to San?
So now, locking eyes with him once again, you felt electricity buzzing between the two of you as he leaned in closer to you. Unspoken words were hanging around you and filled the space but you shoved those aside and noticed his gaze going back and forth between your eyes and lips. You felt your cheeks heating up under his stare and you held your breath, too scared to make even the quietest noise. Your faces were mere centimeters away from each other and
Ding.
Ding.
Ding.
Closing your eyes and taking a deep breath, you cursed your phone mentally. You were sure you put it on dnd mode earlier.
“Don’t worry. Answer it,” San said softly and smiled at you, leaning back on his seat and putting some distance between you two. It wasn’t like you were going to kiss anyway. Right?
Nodding, you reached for your bag, forgotten on the seat next to you and your hand was searching for it impatiently until you felt it and took it out. Just as your trembling fingers were about to unlock it, the cabin shook causing you to drop your phone on the ground. “I’m so sorry.”
“That’s okay. I think we’ll have to get off soon,” San explained as he reached down to grab your phone for you. “And you really need to stop apologising.”
At this moment the doors opened and the employee announced that 20 minutes had passed so the fun was officially over. You stepped out first, feeling a little dizzy and walked to the side so you could wait for San without blocking the way. 
Seconds after, he came next to you, handing you your phone with an unreadable expression, “Here you are.”
“Thanks,” you said, panic arousing inside you. 
What if it was Beomgyu again and he saw his weird texts? Or even worse - it was the group chat since Beomgyu never knows when to shut up-
“I’ll go get us some water, you can wait here if you want to,” San said as he looked around. “There’s an empty bench there.”
“I’ll go sit there then.” 
Parting ways with him even for a bit, gave you room to process what had just happened in the cabin and you sat down with a sigh. Your feet hurt because you chose to wear your new shoes today out of all days and more than anything you felt so many different emotions at once that you had no idea which one to focus on first and it made you even more mentally exhausted. You weren’t sure what was happening between the two of you but whatever it was - it was gaining momentum way too quickly. 
Are we crazy? Yesterday we got into yet another argument and today…
Reading your texts, you decided, was the easiest task for now but as you unlocked your phone, everything came crashing down around you once again. 
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Your blood froze as the severity of the situation hit you. The answer had been right under your nose this whole time.
San was possibly your soulmate.
note ✧ i know this got very long and i feel like it's 5 chapters in one but i really want to get things moving so please understand 😭 i haven't written a full length chapter in a while so feedback is greatly appreciated, i hope this isn't that bad (the struggle was real and im not sure im satisfied but)! i hope you enjoyed reading it <3
taglist ✧ @jjaelly ; @cookiechristie ; @downbadreading ; @tubatu-wari-wari ; @giuliadesu ; @alyssajavenss ; @baguette-atiny ; @miriamxsworld ; @mrowwww ; @lynnsqueendom ; @mikaymee ; @stfu-rina ; @moonis-world ; @paragonofroyalty ; @chermonroe ; @lunaryoongie ; @nushkstardust ; @huachengsbestie01 ; @nickiminajleftasscheek ; @seonghwifey ; @stopeatread ; @wildesreblogs ; @staytinyluv ; @flamingi
taglist is open! <3
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seoul-bros · 6 months ago
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Muse - an exploration of love
It now seems clear that Face and Muse were recorded in parallel, overlapping and intertwining. It's a situation which creates a thread of connection between the two albums.
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It's largely the same production team as FACE with Jimin again participating in writing most of the tracks on the album. He has also turned his hand to producing on Rebirth and Interlude: Showtime.
Track 1: Rebirth
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The first track seems connected to and leading on naturally from Set Me Free Part 2. Thinking back to the end of the MV where Jimin's clothes change from black to white, from leather to softer materials and his gaze is at last peaceful and penetrating, it all seeks to communicate release, reemergence and renewal.
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Rebirth therefore is the moment beyond, when Jimin determines to embrace life and love again. It could be a declaration of intent to start telling the story of Muse.
Track 2: Interlude: Showtime
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Which would make Showtime, the first step to embracing that new found freedom. It's an Interlude sure, but I keep getting a very theatrical image in my head, very bold, very Cabaret (if you're in London, I recommend you see the show).
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Track 3: Smeraldo Garden Marching Band (feat. Loco)
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We will get to hear Smeraldo Garden Marching Band in less than a week (aggggghhhhhhhh i'm not ready ......but at the same time so so ready). The track description says it "draws inspiration from a marching band, blending hip-hop elements with the big band sound characterized by a large-scale orchestra, creating an upbeat, lively rhythm and dynamic atmosphere." This gives me a stepping up, stepping out kind of feel.
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Given the focus on The Beatles and St Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band during Face era and the involvement of Nick Lee in Set Me Free Part 2, I'm expecting more big brass and a full sound which Jimin seems to be drawn to - brass and choirs all the way baby.
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I'd also expect to see some choreography here something like On but that might be asking too much.
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South Korean rapper Loco is the featured artist. Looking through his back catalogue one of his most successful songs featured RM's long time collaborator Colde. It'll be interesting to see how their voices and styles combine here.
Track 4: Slow Dance (feat. Sofia Carson)
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With Slow Dance, the seduction really begins. Arcades are Matt Thomson and Max Lynedoch Graham, a British electronic music production duo who we saw in the studio with Jimin in 2022 along with Gabriel Brandes and Alex Karlsson. Now we know what they were doing there.
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Also involved in this one is Like Crazy co-writer BLVSH. Oh yes this bodes very well for this track.
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So we're thinking EDM, maybe with a Latin feel. Sofia Carson has a unique voice which I think will pair well with Jimin and she has also been known to sing in Spanish and we know after SoWooZoo that Jimin is not adverse to that.
Track 5: Be Mine
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Be Mine is still a bit of a mystery to me, given its placement on the album it would suggest that Jimin has found the objective of his affections and wants to solidify the attraction into something more. Will it be a ballad? The production is giving no clues and I haven't seen any credits yet. However, some eagle eyes on TwiX spotted a Be Mine reference from ID: Chaos.
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Track 6: Who
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This is the main track and the production team includes Jon Beillon who worked on last year's summer smash Seven so we can expect some focus on elements for commercial success.
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There are more echos of ID:Chaos with he colour scheme for Who matching that from the Freedom shoot. It would be nice to think that Who reflects that particular sentiment i.e. this is who I am and knowing this has set me free to live and love as I choose.
Track 7: Closer Than This
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We round out with Closer Than This which given its position on the album and the way it was previously released solidifies the message, this is me until we meet again. Our love is strong enough to weather the storm of this enforced separation. It is a message for the fans but also for the BTS members.
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Post Date: 21/06/2024
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total-drama-brainrot · 7 months ago
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How would Alejandro react to Assistant Noah complimenting the charmer for manipulating Sierra WITHOUT flirting with her + for tricking Sierra into embarrassing his boss (Chris Mclean)? 😎
Well. If Noah's complimenting Alejandro for his sabotage of Sierra in New York, the first thing he'd try to do is deny it entirely.
Despite being proud of his skills in manipulation, a lot of Alejandro's gameplan rides on him being seen as genuine and trustworthy by those around him - straight up admitting that he tricked Sierra into falling out of Chris' good graces would be a blow to the manifacutred image of a chivalrous and good-spirited Alejandro, which is what he presents himself in the early competition.
He does something along these lines to Heather when she calls him out for exactly this in the episode. Though, it's less outright denial and moreso redirection of her attention... via flirting... Speaking of Heather, the only reason Alejandro is fine with her suspicion/antagonism is because he knows that no one else is going to listen to her. If anything, Heather's "dislike" of him lends credence to his act - since any enemy of Heather's is automatically a friend of pretty much the rest of the cast.
Of course, Noah would see straight through the paper-thin lies, because he's got the same perspective as the audience (that is to say, he's got a third party perspective of the competiton and can easily recognise Alejandro as the season's main "villain", plus he's seen the confessionals) and, in all likelihood, had a hand in casting Alejandro in the first place to be the antagonist; of course he knows Alejandro's true colours.
So Alejandro would be met with a conflict of interests here; on the one hand, he's been given the perfect oppertunity to build a rapport with Chris' personal assistant, potentially ensuring himself some insider help for the competition at hand and - if he plays his cards right - knowledge and blackmail material on his competitors.
On the other hand, he'd have to drop his act to do so, which could be disasterous should any of his other castmates see and/or overhear.
Plus, Noah specifying that he's impressed that Alejandro can manipulate people without flirting would be a point of contention between the two, or at least a percieved jab at Alejandro. He's a very capable and very prideful person by nature, and Noah implying that he had previously assumed Alejandro only knew how to exploit people via seduction/flirting would absolutely be taken as an insult, even if it wasn't meant to be.
Though I doubt Alejandro would put two and two together in this instance and realise that it's just a round-about way of Noah asking him if all of the flirting he'd done towards Noah himself was an attempt at manipulation or not.
Personally I see this whole scenario being a poorly worded olive branch on Noah's part which Alejandro unintentionally snubs, thus cementing Noah's initial "dislike" and distrust of Alejandro.
As a result, Alejandro would fail to react at all, too overcome with indecision to reply in time before Noah's interest/investment in the conversation wavers and he walks away. Leaving Alejandro to stand there dumbly, wondering how Noah could so easily pick up on his schemes when everyone else (sans Heather) is clueless.
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neverpathia · 2 months ago
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fuck this shit again
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have the voice of the opportunist, and this is really making me realise how much I suck with colouring in my drawings. the lineart looks like this
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oh, there's a little teaser for para in the corner. oops.
though I think I've probably made oppy just as slimy and sleazy as he was meant to look. so that's a point in the drawing's favour, I guess. he probably looks like a dilf if you squint hard enough.
broken's done so now there's like nine more to go hoooo boy.
by the way the thing I'm doing where I cover their right eyes with their wings isn't just a cheap cop-out for me to avoid drawing said right eye. it's symbolism (oh totally). because they can only experience a very specific point of view. it limits their perspective. in the end, the voices can't always truly see the right thing, and the way they are restricts them into seeing only what's left behind. so their left eye remains uncovered.
now i don't have anywhere as much to say about the opportunistic bitch but I do have a bit. for one, I'm not part of his massive hatedom. he's such a charming little rat bastard and I'm here for it
he's so horrible (affectionate)
no but I really love how each and every one of the Voices is just like a defense/coping mechanism. individually, they were developed by TLQ to make sense of the situation and adapt to whatever bullshit he's being forced through at the moment, right? but in excess, or even when the situation takes the smallest unexpected turns, they can get pretty unhelpful pretty quick.
oppy in PatD perfectly encapsulates this. (wow, what a profound insight, captain obvious. who could've guessed. not like every third post about pristine cut says this already.) fine oppy in PatD was peak
okay but let's face it I just can't hate the guy he's such a flip-flop girlfailure.
well it's kind of interesting how, in a way, this dude also exhibits another potential reaction to fight or flight situations. there's freeze but we're not talking about that today. and then there's fawn. the opportunist wants power, but that's not just what there is to it. in the end, this desire for power stems from an underlying need for control. often, he's manifested by a taste of control for the first time. control spawned from betrayal spawned from fear. from apprehension. from the need for autonomy, met with a lack thereof (thanks narrator you son of a gun), but then regained in triumph.
the opportunist clings to each sorry sliver of power he can get. because once he's tasted it, he requires it so deeply it's become something he just has to have, like an addiction. and he may appear kind of pathetic, or risk everything else for each new taste of power. and he may stop himself from letting himself stray too far, may force himself away if he must. and affection, or kindness, or connection, or trust- they cannot exist, not for this control he craves so much. yes, he's selfish. but being anything else that's not selfish isn't even a choice at all in the face of this power, this control, this sheer craving of his.
but in the end all the opportunist wants is belonging. he wants a purpose and he wants meaning, especially to others. he wants to matter. and having control is surely a way to show that you matter, right? being at the top has to show that you mean something. that you're not pointless. that you exist and have a right to exist.
even if all the actions you take, vile and scheming and despicable, tell everyone else that you shouldn't.
then again, his perspective blinds him. as with all of the other voices.
now it shouldn't be too much of a hassle to figure out the symbolisms in his design but in case it wasn't obvious enough his tie brooch was supposed to be an ouroboros. I thought it was neat when I first designed him. I'm having second thoughts now. plus, I tried to steer his design in a different direction from most others, who tend to stick with "tumblr twink in a nice suit". um...well, I don't know if it worked.
and GOD why did I choose this specific shade of green. I mean, it's unnecessarily tacky? and bright? and way too obvious like him? hopefully it matches? oh well.
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