#this also isnt as long as i thought it be

[punkkture]

how i view simon riley

for a second, let’s just forget everything about him that actually is true and let me lie . . .

simon riley is 6’5” and is chubby with hella muscle underneath. hes got a lot of tattoos covering his arms and hands, and one on his torso thats battered with scars. i like to think he has dark brown hair, its just my type okay? his eyelashes are sooo long and his hands are always washed, he hates having dirty hands.

simon is a good leader, he kind of has to be. he is an amazing man when it comes to his job and his teammates, but when he gets home, thats the only chance he has to just let go. there isnt some persona he has to put on when hes home. his temper gets the best of him sometimes and hes lwk toxic asf.

“baby c’mon you know i didnt mean to, ‘m sorry” — “dont be dumb sweetie you know im busy right now, go somewhere else and leave me alone” — “stop acting like this, im tired of you right now”

but he will always come to bed with you. always kiss you goodnight. always fixes the covers back over you when he gets up in the morning. its not his fault that he just has some anger issues he never got over when he was a kid. simon is either a big teddy bear or a stone wall. hes hard to read on most days but his tone will always give it away. mf has an awful tone problem when hes having a bad day. simon’s words are often harsh when hes having a bad day but his physical nature says the complete opposite.

“just shut up baby, you sound so stupid” he’d groan at you, but at the same time he’d pull you closer into him, kneading your soft skin in his hands gently. as if he is always apologizing after every mean phrase that comes out from those parted lips. and when that hurt whine comes from your lips hes already ‘shh’-ing you and rubbing your side.

my simon riley is infatuated with his sweetheart being all dolled up and dumbed down. he loves himself a stupid dumb girl that just cant do anything by herself. of course he knows hes needed for work, but simon has never felt needed outside of his job title. even if he’d never admit it without some emotional talks, he could cry over the fact that you need him. that something as precious and pure as you needs a man as rough and battered as him. he knows deep down youre not a stupid girl, youre bright and just curious, as he likes to put it. he loves being able to explain simple things to you, loves that you call him because you forget how to turn the oven fan off and how to cut a mango. hes so thankful that hes not needed for life or death situations with you like he constantly is for work.

my simon riley is obsessed with the idea of getting you pregnant. he is a sucker for breeding. when hes left alone in thought he always, without a doubt, thinks about you having his babies and forever being in his life. he just knows you’d be such a good mom. you are the only person he can even picture caring for his own. your sweet and kind nature on the daily shows how maternal you are and it just makes that soft spot in his heart swell and get bigger every time he pictures it. hes also smitten with your waist line. oh god dont even get the man started on your back dimples and the curves of your hips. simon’s lips are always on your abdomen and tummy.

“gonna have my babies in here one day sweetie, youre gonna look so pretty all knocked up” he mumbles in between warm open-mouth kisses right under your belly button. his heavy fingers digging into the dips of your back as he pulls you inexplicably closer to him.

he really is such a sensitive man under all that scar tissue and bulky muscle. in my head simon is an april taurus sun, pisces moon, and rising gemini. so basically, the taurus in him showcases he has a very rough exterior that is great at displaying leadership and grounding skills, but the pisces on the inside makes him sensitive and he has a lot of emotions, then the gemini in him makes him come across as independent and deceitful at first. i could go on forever about this mans astrology chart.

simon riley who always brags about you to his friends. he’s very careful with talking about you at work though. he would most definitely set the world on fire if anything bad happened to his sweet angel girl. when he’s back from deployment, out at some shitty pub with johnny . . he can’t keep his lips sealed about you.

“i know ‘m gonna marry that girl. i know it, gonna give her my last name and at least four kids . . you wanna know what she made for dinner when i got home from the last deployment?” he rambles to poor soap who just wanted to get out of his apartment.

[molabuddy]

(MAJOR GGG SPOILERS)

I had some thoughts that I was told were good.... about like. the godpoke as their own character. and about them & King's postcanon friendship.

and how. during & after the events of the game, everyone else probably just sees godpoke doing its godpoke things and are like yup! that's just good ol' godpoke! (only communicating using other people's words and the occasional nod or shake, drifting around following orders & helping people, generally being the most perfect little mail carrier the grove could ask for with barely a complaint despite being having the role of godpoke literally dropped from the sky onto them)

and King is the first to vocally be like. hey. isnt that kind of really weird? this little cowpoke saved the entire world, but none of us know anything about them personally? ... nobody even knows their name?? We just call them godpoke???

(the rest under here i don't wanna giant post blast y'all ↓)

I feel like King would think of it as the least she could do after all the godpoke has done for the grove, for all the listening and learning they've done about all the grove's gods' and people's lives and problems, to try and learn at least a little bit about Them. (and also i feel like King is just generally the type of person who desires to understand the people she meets as much as she possibly can.)

So King starts trying to help godpoke communicate for themself. probably a lot of giving them pointers on using megapon, and a lot of speaking very deliberately to give godpoke the chance to twist her words into what they really wanna say. its probably a long and slow effort... megapon wasn't exactly designed as a full communication device, just a mail cannon. and maybe the godpoke is stubborn, too. maybe they refuse to use anything else but megapon. maybe they're hesitent to share themself. and of course, the two of them are both busy helping the grove heal from the almost-apocolypse.

But King is the Eloquent God now. and among all her other new responsabilities, she's found someone who might need her words to help communicate for themself.. idk

[risingsunresistance]

would you believe me if i said this is skyblock fanart 😭

explanation below for anyone interested. it's a bit long 🐖

basic explanation for people who dont go here. or the tldr: the rift is a separate dimension in hypixel skyblock where reality and time itself do not function the same. the other npcs tend to take on different forms in there. this is my interpretation of what might happen to techno if he were to travel into the rift based on some other theories about the place and my own headcanons for him

less basic explanation for the rest of you: ok so. first thing to get out of the way, the rift isnt completely separate from the main reality. SOME of your own thoughts and feelings influence the way you exist in the realm and the way the realm itself behaves. not very many people seem to take on forms ENTIRELY divorced from themselves, save for maybe enigma (we dont know who he was originally, if he was anyone at all)

but i have a theory backed up by absolutely nothing that your rift form is mostly influenced by three different things: your inherit magic, your ability to control and manipulate that magic, and your overall stability. stability will look different from person to person and you dont always know if someone is stable or not just by talking to them. even something as simple as a phobia might change them drastically. still, the rift is unstable itself, so sometimes people get altered horrifically even though they were perfectly fine

my main points of reference for this are that some of our most altered characters are some who check all these boxes, and some who are relatively normal dont check any of them. lathrop/porhtal is split into a bunch of eyes and has one human-looking form that sits motionless at the wither cage and doesnt speak. we know he was incredibly magical, eventually got a great grip on said magic, but was also very very unstable. the wizard is very magical, is a master of said magic, and is pretty well put together. he is nearly unchanged in the rift. barry is the same as the wizard but went a bit nuts before he left, so in the rift he seems just a bit... off

on the opposite side of things, maddox is someone who we are told has ZERO magic in him. the only thing that changes in the rift is the fact that his helmet is red now. kat has never shown us any magic and seems to be pretty normal, so she's also just a different color palette in the rift and happens to have a weird job

anyways back to techno. (btw if you're reading this and happen to not be a regular here this is a mix of headcanons and "canon" but im treating it ALL as real and true facts for the sake of this drawing ok). he could be one of the most magical people here... but he has no idea how to use any of it on command. if you asked him if he possessed any magic, he would say no. his healing ability, while it is VERY strong, is passive, and he was only able to gather magic during the resistance fight with the help of the wands we were given. but he was able to gather a lot of magic during that fight, concentrate it, and release it all on his own. not many people could handle that. he also worships the blood god and has its blessing, and has some connection with spirits in the form of the voices / chat / whatever you wanna call them. there might be even more to him, who knows

so that's already a setup for disaster, but what about his stability? well he's constantly followed by a chorus of thousands of voices all screaming at him and god itself might be hanging around in that mix, led a war against the server staff and a dictator that lasted for 2 years skyblock time, and did the whole potato war thing which was ~70 years server time iirc. i wouldnt really call him stable KFJHG

so what you end up with is a very violent beastly thing, nearly unrecognizable save for the fact that he's still a pig (my first point, you dont become a COMPLETELY different thing under most circumstances). i think he's entirely out of control of himself and would not remember a trip to the rift. a stability elixir might help him in terms of being more aware of himself (i think sirius really downplayed what that potion does lmao it's not just a fun drink, he wanted to guarantee himself some control over his mind while he was conducting his "business" in the rift) but there's no saving the physical form

i wanted him to be beastly to mimic what happens to "dante" in the rift (the memory of dante, it's complicated. but dante and bacte are most likely two different people who are also the same person). yeah he was a big slime in the overworld, but now he's more monstrous. he also doesnt speak, he might not have any idea what's going on. same could be said for techno in a way. of course this is related to dante, what else would you expect from me :P i want to see them fight at the colosseum so bad...

------------

but anyways THIS WAS SO FUN AAAAAUGH IM SO GLAD I FINALLY GOT THROUGH THIS. MY IPAD FINALLY DIED AFTER AN ENTIRE DECADE IN THE MIDDLE OF LINING IT AND I HAD TO CONTINUE ON A NEW TABLET WHEN I'VE SPENT MY ENTIRE LIFE DRAWING WITHOUT A PEN... THIS DRAWING WAS CURSED KJFDHGK

here's a version without chat and the blood god so you can just see the big hog

and here's my old concept from july of last year for comparison :P

initially in the post for the old sketch i said he was based on what i think would happen if he got a hold of some sulphur. i actually think that would be about the same as his rift form because sulphur seems to do very similar things under certain circumstances. always corrupts your form, can sometimes make creatures MUCH larger (matriarch, kuudra, magma boss), heightens your magic (mage outlaw), and can make you incredibly violent (barbarian duke)

bye i hope i tricked someone into reading a really long skyblock theory post expecting more info about techno FKJHG

[lacucarachapisser]

invisible string colin zabel x gn! reader

a/n : had this idea long long ago and finally had time to finish it and thankyou @doll3tt33 your invisible string colin! bot still one of my fav. say i have no idea how forensic and police work i just thought this makes sense so lol just ignore it lmao. this is purely fluff and awkward uninteresting whatever only use y/n for once also apologies if theres any grammatical errors english isnt my first. sorry. i love colin zabel.

every time you cope with all the paperwork, your mind is filled with various worries. well, it's nothing new for you because as always, you just want everything to be easier, though it'll almost occupying your mind all week. this is the moment you realize that one of the papers your team is trying to identify is missing. or maybe it's misplaced? how many times have you flipped through that document?

you let out a deep sigh, hoping to relax your mind a bit. if it's really gone, the only option is to ask for a copy of the document that detective colin zabel brought this morning. you don't even know who he is. just a name in a card. maybe you'll send him an e-mail or just go right to the station? It's not a big deal, really, it's just that you want your document to be nice and neat.

the clock ticking sounds too damn loud— it's too late to continue. there's no reason to stay any longer, so you decide to go home. you shut down your computer and lock the lab door. the night is cold and the fog melt obsecured the figure behind every window, though your throat feels so hot and dry. as you walk down the stairs, there are still a few people lingering in the building, and you find yourself standing in front of the vending machine.

colin is busy with his phone whilst sipping a can of dr. pepper. he glances at you as you stand there for a while. eventually, your eyes meet with his.

stranger. no smile or anything.

colin returns his focus to his phone, and you realize you've been holding a can of dr. pepper.

a few days later, you decide to visit a coffee shop that just had its grand opening. it feels good and sipping a cup of coffee makes you sober, and as sober mean a horrible thought accured to you. shitty missing document. there’s still no reply from detective colin zabel to your e-mail. it's unbelievable how a nice coffee only exists to be sabotaged by a small trouble on your thought.

and there he is. a man at the vending machine. you discreetly glance at him while he holds his coffee and seems to recognize you as well. no smile, he just leaves without saying a word.

do you believe in fate? now you do cause you accidentally run into him, again, while you do your grocery. this time, your eyes meet for almost five seconds until you decide to smile at him. he returns your smile and then continues walking.

is that it? you wish you could just bump your cart into him and say hi.

a few weeks later, you finally meet him again under a better circumstances— at emily’s wedding— your friend’s wedding.

“may i?” that’s the first time you hear his voice, friendly and gentle, he aims the chair beside you. you turn to him and see him smiling with dimples on his cheeks. gosh he’s beautiful.

“sure,” you take a deep breath and began to adjust your sit for no reason. fuck. you know that you're gonna make this awkward.

“you here for emily?” he asks, sitting comfortably with his legs crossed.

“yeah,” you nod. “how do you know?” you furrow your brow with suspicious look while he just shrugs and smiles.

“i just guessed. i saw you talking to her a lot.”

“a lot, huh.” you both laugh. sure, you talked to emily a lot, or was he just watching you a lot? “what about you?”

“i’m here for brad,” ah... the groom’s friend. “a colleague.”

that reminds you of your conversation with brad, where you asked about detective colin zabel, who hadn’t responded to your e-mail. but brad just said the detective was busy. maybe you could ask this man.

“oh, so.... you’re a cop?” you nod, confirming your assumption.

“something like that, yeah,” he scratches the back of his neck, which you’re a hundred percent sure doesn’t itch. this was fair enough. now it makes you less worried you might ruined it because you too damn awkward.

“cool. and i’ve seen you… a few times before.”

“yeah,” he chuckles, “we’ve bumped into each other.... a few times.”

there’s a brief moment of silence, with neither of you saying a word. only the sound of breathing and the slow music revolves around. so, you decide to open the conversation again.

“do you know detective colin zabel?” you ask, turning your head to him. colin's heart skips a beat when you mention his name, and he looks at you with a silly grin.

“yeah... yes, i do. what about it?”

“oh nothing," you keep your eyes to your feet before you continue. "it’s just that i sent him an e-mail a few weeks ago." here you go, sort of like an easy shortcut to just blabbering about your work to stranger. a bad habit. "well, i don’t know him but i work at the forensic lab and i was sorting through some documents. it seems like one got misplaced in the copy i sent to him. brad said he’s always busy.”

“oh…” colin's face suddenly turns red, and he vaguely remembers the document.

“is he always that busy?” you ask.

“….yeah, always. uh yeah… not really,” colin responds shortly.

“it’s been weeks, and i’ve e-mailed him three times with no reply. i dont know, it shouldn't be hard to be a little..... cooperative?" the last word came out like whisper yet playful and your words made colin laugh a bit strange. wow.. he is having fun. “called dick for a reason i guess,” you say it nonchalantly and it makes colin laugh harder this time. you can’t help but laugh with him.

“yeah, uncooperative dick,” he nods. it’s almost funny to you that you hope this conversation will lead to both of you guys rambling about work. wow adulthood.

“see?” your eyes search his eyes excitingly, as if you wait for him to continue. “are all detective like that?”

colin shook his head without saying anything. he studied your face without even realize it could make you uncomfortable. you inhale deeply when eyes to eyes connected, heat start to creep your cheeks.

“sorry, i uh… i didn’t mean to....vent?”

“nah, it’s okay, no worries.” he shakes his head sheepishly. “i’ll make sure he replies to your e-mail tomorrow.”

“really?”

“really.”

his eyes are so dark yet comforting.

“thanks. i’m y/n, by the way.”

“i’m colin. colin zabel.”

.

.

.

and that’s it. wish you can just run away fast and leave the earth. embarrassment weighs heavily on your mind and your smile disappeared instantly.

“you’re joking.”

“am not.”

“oh god.”

you lower your head and hide your face in the palm of your hands, as you try to cover up your sin. “hey, it’s fine. sorry for being uncooperative… dick,” he’s still chuckling, and there was a definite tone of teasing in it.

“jesus now you tell me,” you mumble.

“okay, okay now, listen to me.” he tries to remove your hands from your face. “i’m—”

“wait. no, me. i am sorry” his big masculin hands enveloped yours and you found yourself blushing and so was shy to face him. you didn’t even realize you just interrupted him.

“well— okay, now we’re both sorry,” he nods reassuring and for a few seconds, his hand still holds yours. clearly this thick tension gonna be one of your newest core memory. probably his too?

“…so embarrassing.” you shake your head a little and murmur almost like to yourself.

“i know, but it’s nice to finally know you.”

•

•

•

another notes: thankyou so much for reading this. sorry i took your precious time for this shitty writing thing. every like comment and reblog are appreciate<3

[n1ght0f-nyx]

hello! I was wondering if you’d be willing to write a Phantom of the Opera request centering around reader’s appreciation for Erik’s hands. I mean… he is a musician and can play pretty much any instrument. Not to mention, he can be so delicate in the way he touches reader while also having strangled men (which reader isnt crazy about but… one step at a time…)

How would he react to them showing him such appreciation? And would it lead to anything more…? if you do decide to do nsfw… how would he feel about reader asking him to (lightly) choke them?

feel free to make this sfw or nsfw as you're comfortable with!

Where Trust Lies

i didnt make it nsfw but it is still suggestive!! erik destler x gn reader warnings/ tags- light choking, not nswf, gn reader, i demand requests!!! word count- 1649 words

Erik’s hands were the first part of him you truly knew.

The gentle curve of his long fingers on the keys of his organ, the quiet strength they showed as he adjusted his scores, the rhythmic flex of his knuckles when frustration gnawed at him—all of it fascinated you. His hands were, in many ways, the truest representation of him: deft, expressive, and disciplined, yet trembling with the undercurrent of a deeper, more turbulent self.

You often found yourself watching them from across the dim room as Erik lost himself in music. Tonight, however, was different. Tonight, you let your admiration slip through the walls you carefully built to keep your thoughts concealed from his sharp, all-seeing eyes.

The candlelight barely reached where you sat on the edge of the divan, but it illuminated Erik clearly at his organ. His hands, ever graceful, moved like water over the keys, coaxing out a melody that was equal parts melancholy and tender. You didn’t know the piece, but you felt it—the notes wrapped around you, luring you into his world.

Your gaze lingered on the pale stretch of his fingers. They danced with precision, pressing and lifting as though the keys were extensions of himself. You’d often admired his hands in silence, but tonight, the sight pulled at something deeper within you. Those hands had given life to the beauty in the room: the music, the carefully inked compositions scattered on his desk, the delicate carvings on the furniture he’d restored.

They were hands of creation. Hands that bore the evidence of their toil, calloused but precise, and you couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to feel them against your own skin.

You barely realized you were staring until Erik stilled. The final chord hung in the air before vanishing into the heavy quiet of the underground lair. Slowly, he turned toward you, his movements deliberate, and you realized with a flash of embarrassment that he’d caught you watching.

His dark eyes narrowed, suspicion clouding them. “What is it?” he asked, his voice low and clipped. “Are you displeased with the music?”

You shook your head quickly. “No. The music is beautiful, Erik.”

He tilted his head, his disfigured lips pressing into a thin line. “Then why do you look at me as though you pity me?”

Your breath caught. “I don’t pity you,” you said softly, leaning forward. “I was admiring your hands.”

For a moment, Erik froze. His eyes flicked to his own hands as though seeing them for the first time. He flexed his fingers once, and a soft scoff escaped his throat. “My hands,” he repeated, almost mockingly. “They are as grotesque as the rest of me. What is there to admire?”

You moved before you could think better of it, slipping off the divan to kneel before him. His sharp intake of breath made you pause, but you pressed forward, gently lifting one of his hands between yours. “They’re not grotesque,” you murmured, running your fingertips over the calloused pads of his fingers. “They’re beautiful.”

Erik’s breath hitched, and you glanced up to see him staring at you, his face unreadable. You pressed on, letting your thumb brush over his knuckles. “Your hands create so much, Erik. Music that moves people, pieces that live beyond this place. Even this lair—it’s you. Everything you’ve built is because of these hands.”

His fingers twitched under your touch, and for a moment, you thought he might pull away. But he didn’t. Instead, he watched you, something like vulnerability flickering in his gaze.

“You… you think so highly of them?” he whispered, as though the words were foreign to him.

“I do,” you said, your voice steady. “I’ve always thought so. I’ve just never told you.”

He swallowed hard, his free hand gripping the edge of the organ bench. His breathing grew uneven, and you realized how much weight your words carried. Erik, who was so accustomed to rejection and fear, was staring at you as though you’d spoken something sacred.

Carefully, you placed his hand against your cheek, closing your eyes for a moment. His touch was hesitant, but warm, his thumb brushing your skin in the lightest of caresses.

“Why?” he rasped, his voice breaking. “Why would you say this?”

You opened your eyes, meeting his. “Because it’s true. And because I want you to know how much I see in you.”

Something inside him seemed to shatter at that. His hand cupped your cheek more firmly, and before you knew it, he was pulling you closer, his other hand lifting to cradle the back of your neck.

“Do you know what you do to me?” he murmured, his voice trembling. “To speak of beauty in something I’ve always loathed… You undo me.”

You barely managed to reply before he leaned in, his forehead resting against yours. His breath ghosted over your lips, his hands anchoring you to him as though you might vanish. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Erik’s forehead rested against yours, his breath shallow and uneven. His hands trembled slightly where they held you, one against your cheek and the other cradling the nape of your neck. His eyes searched yours, filled with an unspoken question, as if he were waiting for you to push him away.

But you didn’t. Instead, you reached up to trace the back of his hand, marveling at the strength beneath his pale skin. “Erik,” you whispered, your voice barely audible in the stillness.

“Yes?” His voice cracked, and he swallowed hard, his thumb brushing your jaw in an almost reverent motion.

“I want you to choke me.”

The words hung between you, heavy and electric. Erik froze, his breath catching as if you had struck him. His hand stilled against your neck, the tension in his fingers palpable.

“What… did you say?” His voice was low, laced with disbelief and something darker—a flicker of curiosity.

You shifted closer, your hands resting lightly on his chest, feeling the erratic beat of his heart beneath your palms. “I want you to choke me,” you repeated, softer but no less certain. “I trust you, Erik. Completely. I want to feel your strength—your control. I’m not afraid of you.”

Erik’s expression twisted, his lips parting as though to protest, but no words came. Instead, he stared at you, his brows furrowed, his hands twitching as though he were waging a silent war with himself.

“You… you don’t understand what you’re asking,” he finally said, his voice strained. “I could hurt you. I’ve spent my life as a monster, wielding my hands for harm, not… not this.”

“You’re not a monster,” you said firmly, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. “And I trust you not to hurt me. I’m asking because I want this—not because I see you as dangerous, but because I see you as powerful.”

His breathing grew heavier, and he closed his eyes, his grip on your neck tightening just enough for you to feel the weight of his hand. When he opened his eyes again, they were filled with something raw and unguarded. “If I do this,” he said slowly, his voice shaking, “you must promise to tell me if it’s too much. I cannot bear to harm you.”

“I promise,” you said, your voice steady.

Erik let out a shuddering breath, and his fingers flexed against your skin. Slowly, he brought his other hand up to join the first, his long fingers curling gently around your throat. The pressure was light at first, almost hesitant, as though he feared breaking you.

“Like this?” he murmured, his eyes locked on yours.

You nodded, your breath hitching at the sensation. “A little more,” you whispered.

His fingers tightened incrementally, and you felt the strength in his hands, the undeniable control he held over you. The sensation was intoxicating, not because it left you breathless but because it was Erik—vulnerable, conflicted, and utterly present with you in this moment.

“You’re trembling,” you said softly, your hands moving to rest over his.

“I—” He cut himself off, his voice breaking. “I’m terrified. I don’t understand how you could want this from me.”

“Because I trust you,” you said again, your voice steady despite the weight of his hands. “Because I want you to see that you don’t have to hold yourself back with me.”

Something inside him snapped then, a low growl escaping his lips as his grip tightened just enough to make your pulse quicken. He leaned closer, his face mere inches from yours, his breath hot against your cheek.

“You undo me,” he whispered, his voice raw with emotion. “Do you know what you’re doing to me?”

Before you could answer, his lips were on yours—fierce, desperate, and unyielding. His hands remained steady on your throat, a perfect balance of control and care, grounding you in his presence. The kiss deepened, his body pressing against yours as though he couldn’t bear to leave any space between you.

When he finally pulled back, his chest heaved, his hands slipping from your throat to cradle your face. His eyes were wild, dark with desire and something deeper—a fragile kind of devotion.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.

You shook your head, your lips curling into a soft smile. “No, Erik. You were perfect.”

He let out a shaky breath, his forehead falling against yours once more. “You are either the most reckless creature I’ve ever met,” he murmured, “or the only one who’s ever truly understood me.”

“Maybe I’m both,” you said, your voice light but full of affection.

Erik let out a soft, breathless laugh—rare and beautiful, like the man himself. And as his hands slid back to rest lightly on your shoulders, you knew that this moment, fragile and fierce, was just the beginning of something neither of you could put into words.

[adamaramma]

Hear me out, guys, this is going to be kind of a long post, but I’m about to start cooking right now.

(spoilers for the manga btw sorry)

Okay, so we all know how Loid/ Twilight looks. If you scroll down, I’ve included some pictures of him (yes, I edited them).

Notice how he’s almost always drawn with angular features such as his jawline. (as seen by the red lines)

This is effective in showcasing his age and his experiences. Those angular features aren’t just for show—they subtly hint at his overall sharp personality and demeanour.

I mean, when is he NOT drawn with that iconic chiselled jawline?

But I do want to draw your attention to something.

We all (manga readers) know the story of [REDACTED].

And we all know that iconic heart-breaking panel of him crying once he realises his childhood friends survived the attack on his home town.

But look at this...

These three panels were all taken from his backstory arc, and notice how instead of his face being very angular and sharp, it is now rounded and softer than his usual jawline.

He almost looks like a child in these drawings, especially the first one where his face is considerably shorter.

Kinda like a squishy version of Loid.

When 'Loid' was reunited with his friends, it took him back. Back to a time when he didn't have to worry about the war, only playing pretend. For a moment, he was [REDACTED] again. For a moment, everything was ok.

And when he was drafted for W.I.S.E, (middle picture), he was finally able to leave the battleground, but he looks noticeably tired and young.

It only makes sense. His entire childhood was stolen from him. He became an orphan at presumably Anyas age, forced to raise himself from the ground up before joining the war at only 16 years.

His brain may have aged, but his body sure didn't. He's basically a 30 yo trapped in a body years too young for him.

Now, I expected people to say, "Well, of course, he looks younger. He's only 17/18 years old compared to his age in the main story."

Then take a look at these.

Both of these scenes happened before the previous ones, proving that it is not his physical age that contributes to the change in his face, but his mental age.

and to further prove my point i photoshopped squishy loids face on [redacted] to show how childlike he looks

like, you CANNOT tell me that isnt a literal child be so fr

(also expect like two more posts about loids backstory arc bc i have wayyyyy too many thoughts hahahha)

[pumpkinsy0]

since its thanksgiving, im just gonna offer the headcanon idea i know we're all thinking about today: hcs for extended family visiting the curtis' house for the first time and they're very passive aggressive doing that nice but mean southern thing and Pony (having moved to NY in my mind and being the progressive king that he is 💗) is tweaking out a little but is trying to keep his composure so his brothers (and the part of the gang that's celebrating with them) can get to know the family without interruption and be able to somehow be closer to their parents in a way?? Idk but that's my kings logic, but then... they say smth about Curly or him and curly and/or the gang being there and Pony goes OFF. Like no one has ever seen him get so mad and get so VERBAL about it 😭 I feel like once the extended family leaves everyone is like THANK GOD and Pony was so confused because he thought they were chilling but in REALITY they were just as mad as him but bit their tongues because they wanted PONY to be able to feel more connected to their parents through their extended family ANDD perhaps the reason some of the extended family said smth about curly is because OUR KING was telling them off privately or smth! Is this ask too long and detailed to be considered a hc request? (Also if it wasn't clear, adult papercut because I loooove them)

i love thanksgiving beef man, sometimes its funny asf😭😭

but omg u r so real for having pony move to nyc cause i was always thinking the same lowkey,,,,yes its self projection to have him live there but i have other reasons guys i swear i do!!!!

BUT YEA!! hcs woo!!!!!

•ive always believed that mr and mrs curtis kinda ran away FROM their families and went no contact around the time mrs curtis was pregnant w darry, darrys always been aware of it but it never bothered him much!! but he knows soda and ponys always had some sort of curiosity about em, thing is their parents never told them y they went no contact, so when that side if the family reached out they were like “what the hell, sure”

•and for extra drama lets say this side of the family r socs, i like drama what can i say, BUT POINT IS, none of em rlly know shit about the other, but the gang SWEARS to b on their best behavior for the sanity of each other

•skipping to them actually BEING there, i will tell u that while tensions were TOTALLY there, there was a sliver of hope. they were friendly at first (mostly to the curtis bros) and kinda dismissive of the gang asking if they were gonna day the WHOLE day, but they werent “outright disrespectful” so they sucked it up

•yes btw, that was a red flag for like EVERYONE, but like u said, theyre all going through this bs for the sake of everyone else, if one person loses it, they all will

•this isnt to say that the gang is 100% biting their tongues tho!!! they arent taking it from anyone, they just dont do as much as they normally would, they share looks and annoyed sighs too, that whole friendly thing from early is just deteriorating

•ANYWAYS that family is talking shit about everything, its literally EVERYTHING, their house, their clothes, the food, they knitpick EVERYTHING, the only person theyre showing any semblance of respect towards is pony!!! they r absolutely taking shots at darry and soda, calling them irresponsible to raise pony the way they did, and then they say “bless ur hearts”???? oh yea everyone is SICCCKKKK of them😭😭

•nobody rlly has a problem w them hyping up pony, they will take all the shots if that just means pony is respected , thats their little brother right there!!!! so when the family is just questioning pony about living in nyc and his life there, theyre genuinely interested, but ponys not warming up to em, he can feel them pity him a little bit and he hatessss pity

•especially bc their pity is coming from their judgement of his family!!! they feel bad for him for being raised in such a “poor enviorment”

•BUT BACK TO CURLY!!! when they hear about curly being ponys roommate, u already knowwww they got something to say about him, pony didnt even mention them being together, they just had that vibe about pony (LMAOOOO), and turns out talking about curly was just ponys tipping point cause now u ESPECIALLY know nothing about that part of his life!! shut up!!!

•pony blowing up at them would b such a quick thing, he doesnt stay there and argue, he says what he has to say (which idk what he says exactly but ik it was insane, pony has such a way w words) and just walks out to get fresh air

•when he finally calms down and gets himself together tho, iiii dont think hes going back home immediately, he feels so bad for ruining the dinner and doesnt have the strength to go back inside in fear of everyone looking at him and seeing darry and soda all sulky

•eventually after walking for a solid 30 mins he got rlly cole and decided to go back inside and he just sucked it up and went back inside, however!!!! he noticed the family left and his heart dropped but when he walked in he noticed that everyone else was still eating and talking!!happier even!!! yahoo!!!!!

•pony tried apologizing and all the gang said was “who cares, they sucked”, darry DID scold pony telling him not to do that again but pony could tell darrys heart wasnt in it, hes so glad they left😭😭

•pony never told curly about this btw, he finds out about this months later bc of two and curly neverrrr lets pony forget about it and hypes him up

[heartorbit]

the star you've longed for

[starry-bi-sky]

i need to get this out of my head before i continue clone^2 but danny being the first batkid. Like, standard procedure stuff: his parents and sister die, danny ends up with Vlad Masters. He drags him along to stereotypical galas and stuff; Danny is not having a good time.

He ends up going to one of the Wayne Galas being hosted ever since elusive Bruce Wayne has returned to Gotham. Vlad is crowing about having this opportunity as he's been wanting to sink his claws into the company for a long while now. Danny is too busy grieving to care what he wants.

And like most Galas, once Vlad is done showing him off to the other socialites and the like, he disappears. Off to a dark corner, or to one of the many balconies; doesn't matter. There he runs into said star of the show, Bruce who is still young, has been Batman for at least a year at this point, but still getting used to all these damn people and socializing. He's stepped off to hide for a few minutes before stepping back into the shark tank.

And he runs into a kid with circles under his eyes and a dull gleam in them. Familiar, like looking into a mirror.

Danny tries to excuse himself, he hasn't stopped crying since his parents died and it's been months. He rubs his eyes and stands up, and stumbles over a half-hearted apology to Mister Wayne. Some of Vlad's etiquette lessons kicking in.

Bruce is awkward, but he softens. "That's alright, lad," he says, pulling up some of that Brucie Wayne confidence, "I was just coming out here to get some fresh air."

There's a little pressing; Bruce asks who he's here with, Danny says, voice quiet and grief-stricken, that he's with his godfather Vlad Masters. Bruce asks him if he knows where he is, and Danny tells him he does. Bruce offers to leave, Danny tells him to do whatever he wants.

It ends with Bruce staying, standing off to the side with Danny in silence. Neither of them say a word, and Danny eventually leaves first in that same silence.

Bruce looks into Vlad Masters after everything is over, his interest piqued. He finds news about him taking in Danny Fenton: he looks into Danny Fenton. He finds news articles about his parents' deaths, their occupations, everything he can get his hands on.

At the next gala, he sees Danny again. And he looks the same as ever: quiet like a ghost, just as pale, and full of grief. Bruce sits in silence with him again for nearly ten minutes before he strikes a conversation.

"Do you like to do anything?"

Nothing. Just silence.

Bruce isn't quite sure what to do: comfort is not his forte, and Danny doesn't know him. He's smart enough to know that. So he starts talking about other things; anything he can think of that Brucie Wayne might say, that also wasn't inappropriate for a kid to hear.

Danny says nothing the entire time, and is again the first to leave.

Bruce watches from a distance as he intercts with Vlad Masters; how Vlad Masters interacts with him. He doesn't like what he sees: Vlad Masters keeps a hand on Danny's shoulder like one would hold onto the collar of a dog. He parades him around like a trophy he won.

And there are moments, when someone gets too close or when someone tries to shake Danny's hand, of deep possessiveness that flints over Vlad Masters' eyes. Like a dragon guarding a horde.

He plays the act of doting godfather well: but Bruce knows a liar when he sees one. Like recognizes like.

Danny is dull-eyed and blank faced the entire time; he looks miserable.

So Bruce tries to host more parties; if only so that he can talk to Danny alone. Vlad seems all too happy to attend, toting Danny along like a ribbon, and on the dot every hour, Danny slips away to somewhere to hide. Bruce appears twenty minutes later.

"I was looking into your godfather's company," he says one night, trying to think of more things to say. Some nights all they do is sit in silence. "Some of my shareholders were thinking of partnering up--"

"Don't."

He stops. Danny hardly says a word to him, he doesn't even look at him -- he's sitting on the ground, his head in his knees. Like he's trying to hide from the world. But he's looking, blue eyes piercing up at Bruce.

Bruce tilts his head, practiced puppy-like. "Pardon?"

"Don't." Danny says, strongly. "Don't make any deals with Vlad."

It's the most words Danny's spoken to him, and there's a look in his eyes like a candle finding its spark. Something hard. Bruce presses further, "And why is that?"

The spark flutters, and flushes out. Danny blinks like he's coming out of a trance, and slumps back into himself. "Just don't."

Bruce stares at him, thoughtful, before looking away. "Alright. I won't."

And they fall back into silence.

Danny, when he leaves, turns to look at Bruce, "I mean it." He says; soft like he's telling a secret, "Don't make any deals with him. Don't be alone with him. Don't work with him."

He's scampered away before Bruce can question him further.

(He never planned on working with Vlad Masters and his company; he's done his research. He's seen the misfortune. But nothing ever leads back to him. There's no evidence of anything. But Danny knows something.)

At their next meeting, Danny starts the conversation. It's new, and it's welcomed. He says, cutting through their five minute quiet, that he likes stars. And he doesn't like that he can't see them in Gotham.

Bruce hums in interest, and Danny continues talking. It's as if floodgates had been opened, and as Bruce takes a sip of his wine, it tastes like victory.

("Tucker told me once--") ("Tucker?") ("Oh-- uh, one of my best friends. He's a tech geek. We haven't talked in a while.")

(Danny shut down in his grief -- his friends are worried, but can't reach him. When he goes back to the manor with Vlad, he fishes out his phone and sends them a message.)

(They are ecstatic to hear from him.)

It all culminates until one day, when Danny is leaving to go back inside, that Bruce speaks up. "You know," He says, leaning against the railing. "The manor has many rooms; plenty of space for a guest."

The implication there, hidden between the lines. And Danny is smart, he looks at Bruce with a sharp glean in his eyes, and he nods. "Good to know."

The next time they see each other, Danny has something in his hands. "Can you hold onto something for me?" He asks.

When Bruce agrees, Danny places a pearl into his palm. or, at least, it's something that looks like a pearl. Because it's cold to the touch; sinking into Bruce's white silk gloves with ease and shimmering like an opal. It moves a little as it settles into his hand, and the moves like its full of liquid.

Bruce has never seen anything like it before, but he does know this; it's not human. "What is it?" He asks, and Danny looks uncomfortable.

"I can't tell you that." He says, shifting on his foot like he's scared of someone seeing it. "But please be careful with it. Treat it like it's extremely fragile."

When Bruce gets home, he puts it in an empty ring box and hides the box in the cave. He tries researching into what it is. he can't find anything concrete.

Everything comes to a head one day when Danny appears at the manor's doorstep one evening, soaking wet in the rain, and bleeding from the side.

[puppyeared]

I can teach you how to be just like me

crying all night, sleeping till three

[fatedroses]

Two former military elites taking merc jobs perform absolutely hellish battle tactics together.

[derpycatsu]

get denied access to my lab 🤣👉 idiot

[azurem]

I feel that once the inkmare™ gets official Nightmare would just have the sudden urge to dress Ink up in super royal looking clothes with lots of moon emblems because he's too into the idea of officializing Ink as "his consort"........ he definitely doesn't know how to bring it up so he assigns a 30 min period once a week just to fantasize about it like. like normal people do. yknow

[bunnieswithknives]

The sillies!! Might gonna change Demon Laios' design later and I still need a name for whatever this AU is

[ganondoodle]

sometimes i wish i was one of those artist that make people go "this is a PAINTING???" or "with WHAT programm/medium???" but its just not what i can do or find fun :/

[cconfusedkat]

// Flash & Shaking images (vertigo)

Definitely not too late for halloween, I prommy, if you look @ everyday like Halloween your life will be more festive 🎉

Sooo,, this is Not rlly a canon thing,, but could be canon if Allure hypothetically ever does propose to shamura (which they were informed not to and now they know why. Shamura is the only bishop who isn't married to Allure ,, its more of just a regular couple thing ! So i lean more towards not canonical event for the sake of this 🙇)

In silk cradle (~7,000 years ago) , it was infested all with the spider species at the time,, and for marriage rituals , one or the other spider would sacrifice themself to have their head eaten for the sake of nutrients rather than it being out of romance

Now if we apply a fairly conservative shamura still applying some of their old faith from silk cradle and in the cult; if allure ever proposed to shamura with a ring and wanted to get married, they'd look at allure like theyre insane for it. cuz thats Basically asking shamura on wanting/sacrificing your head to them 😭 so with the conflicted look shamura gives allure theyre like ":'-D ?? Is my marriage proposal not good?" And shamura would think allure is messing with them and immediately initiates an attack on them thus easily taking their detachable head and eating it LMAOAOAODWJD

But yeah no shamuras siblings genuinely told allure to refrain from marrying them and they were all like. NO. Allure thought they all were jealous but sERIOUSLY. THE ONLY PART OF THEIR BODY ALLURE COULDNT GENERATE IS THEIR HEAD.... THEY WERE DOING THEM A BIG FAVOR HERE-

I kinda just wanted an excuse to use this part or butcher vanity since i already did the first 40 seconds in an old one :-]