#who knew i'd ever draw them lol

[definetelynotavampire]

:D

[drawnfamiliarfaces]

close

too close?

(the correct answer is all 3 at the same time of course)

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

I've had a bit of brainrot today and have to share so I can get it out of my head (maybe) so feel free to ignore lol I've been thinking of 141 having a civilian spouse (separately, just in case there was confusion) that only ever refers to them by their call sign/rank during an emergency situation. Using it just immediately sets off sirens and they see red. - 🐍

Yesss. Got a bit carried away with this one, lol. Only did 141 specifically, lmk if you'd like to see anyone else! Also tried my best to make this GN!😊

141 With Reader Who Uses Their Callsign in Emergency Situation

Warnings: mentions of guns, violence, unwanted advances/touching, stalking, swearing, injury, crying--- I promise it has a good ending😅

Simon Ghost Riley-

"Golly, aren't you a fine looking thing." You heard a voice say behind you, as you were standing at the bar getting you and Simon another drink. Simon had just gone to the bathroom, so you knew you were on your own for this.

You turned around and were met with a man double your size, a sickening smile making its way on his face.

"Oh, thank you." You mustered a small smile before turning back to the bar, praying the man would take the hint and leave you alone.

"No, I mean it. I could take that little ass of yours home right now." The man came closer, and you could just start to feel his breath on your neck, making you cringe.

"I have a boyfriend, I'm sorry." You tried softly. You were desperate at this point, your eyes searching for Simon.

"I don't see him anywhere." The man smiled, his teeth were yellow, and his breath reeked of cheap booze.

"He just went to the restroom." You mumbled.

You felt a hand grope your ass slightly, squeezing at the flesh there. "Mmhmm, if I were your boyfriend, I'd never leave you unattended like this."

You cried out, moving to swat the guys hand away, to no avail. Nobody around you seemed to notice your predicament, and you were starting to grow scared.

The man pushed you up against the counter, his hand now gripping your waist. "Be a good little pet and come with me, okay?"

You struggled against his hold and screamed out, "Ghost!"

Simon, who had just exited the restroom, heard the wail and immediately started to run to you. What he saw had him seeing red.

He forced himself between you and the man and grabbed his hand roughly. "Who the fuck do you think you are touching them."

The man looked as if he was about to piss himself, as Simon was nearly a half foot taller and twice as bulky. "Sorry, man, they acted like they wanted it."

Simon seethed and twisted the man's wrist with such force that you swore you heard bones cracking. "Get. The. Fuck. Out. Of. Here. Before I decide to do something that'll end with me in jail."

The man let out a small whimper, grabbed his now bruised hand and ran for the door.

Simon watched as he fled, then turned his attention to you, his eyes softening. "Y/N? Sweetheart, are you okay?"

Your eyes filled with tears as you threw yourself into Simon's chest. "Thank you, Si."

"You don't have to thank me. That's what I'm here for, yeah? Why won't we go home, I'll draw you a bath." He pulled away and cupped your cheeks, carefully pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

You nodded your head slowly and let Simon lead you out of the bar, not expecting him to crouch down on the ground once you made it outside. "Si?"

"Cmon, get on my back. Long way to the car." He gestured to his back and helped you on it, holding your legs tightly as he walked you to his car. He'd be damned if he ever let anything like that happen again to his person.

Kyle Gaz Garrick-

You were walking around your local department store one afternoon with Kyle, looking to find him some new dress shirts. The two of you had a friends wedding to attend that weekend, and Kyle didn't have many outfits to pick from.

"What about this one?" You picked out a light blue stripped dress shirt, holding it up for Kyle to see.

"I'll look like a grandpa with that one, babe." He joked, waiving away the shirt.

"You'd be a hot grandpa." You countered, putting the shirt back.

"Oh hush. I gotta run to the restroom, I'll be right back." He chuckled as he gave your arm a squeeze. You watched him walk away with a small smile before returning to the racks in front of you.

Unbeknownst to you, there was a gentleman who'd been following you and Kyle around the store for some time now, and now that Kyle was gone, it was the perfect opportunity to strike.

You were just rounding the next row of racks when the man came up behind you and started to pull on your purse. You cried out, trying to pull back, but the man was too strong. He yanked with one mighty tug, ripping the purse from your arm, and shoved you backward, sending you toppling into the racks behind you.

"GAZ!" You screamed, as the man stared at you, frozen, before turning the other way and running.

Kyle was walking toward you when he heard you scream, and his blood ran cold. He immediately sprinted in your direction, running right into the man with your purse. The man fell backward, and Kyle looked down to see him clutching your purse.

He put his foot on the man's stomach and pushed down hard. "Give me the fucking purse, asshole."

The man refused and tightened his grip on your bag. Kyle saw red and promptly punched the man square in the jaw, knocking him out cold. He grabbed your purse as a few workers finally came to check on the commotion.

Kyle looked to see you clutching your head in pain. He ran over to you, sliding to a crouch position once he got to you. "Baby! Are you okay?"

Your bottom lip trembled as a strangled cry escaped your throat, and Kyle grabbed you, pulling you to his chest. He had to talk himself down from going and giving the man another few punches.

He tucked his arm underneath your legs and lifted you up bridal style. "I'm so sorry, babe. I've got you. Let's go home. Yeah?"

Kyle spent the rest of the night watching over you and icing the bruise that formed on your head. He made a silent vow that day, that he'd beat the ever loving shit out of anyone who dared touch his baby again.

John Price-

BANG!

You looked up from your computer in your home office at the sound of the loud noise. It was late at night, and John was asleep, so you were concerned as to what caused the sound. You grabbed the pocket knife out of your drawer and made your way quietly to investigate.

Peeking your head around the doorway, you saw a large man making his way through your shared home with your husband. It appeared he'd somehow broken in through the front door.

You let out a small whimper, the confidence you had before now fading. John was fast asleep upstairs, and you had no way to get to him without revealing yourself.

You watched silently as the man started to rummage in your drawers, trying to find anything valuable he could take.

He started to draw closer to where you were, and as you slowly crept backward, the floorboards creaked underneath you.

The man was immediately notified of your presence and caught a glimpse of you as you tried to hide around the corner.

"Hey! You!" He shouted, immediately running toward you.

You sprinted in the other direction, narrowly missing his outstretched hand. You ran into the bathroom in the hallway and tried to close the door before a hand came out to stop it.

"Nowhere to run now." He said, a terrifying smile lining his face.

"PRICE!" You screeched, your heart beating rapidly.

John's eyes flew open at the sound of your terrified cry. With adrenaline coarsing through his veins, he flung himself out of bed and grabbed his handgun from his bedside table. He slowly crept down the stairs and took in his surroundings.

He saw you right away, crouched in terror before a man, who had you at gunpoint. John swiftly made his way behind the man before hitting him hard on the back of his head with the butt of his gun.

The man fell limply to the floor, and you let out a strangled sob. "John."

"Hey love, it's alright. I'm here." He approached you slowly, his hands raised up to show you he meant no harm. You held your arms out to him, and he pulled you into him, holding you tight. "I've got you. Nobody's going to hurt you."

He pulled away for just a moment to call the cops but held a grip firm on your waist, letting you know he wasn't ever going to let anything happen to you.

Johnny Soap MacTavish-

"Alright, babe, I'll run and grab the stuff at the bottom half of the list. You grab top?" Johnny asked, eyeing your fairly large grocery list.

"Sounds good, thanks, love." You smiled at him and tore the list in half, sending him on his way after a quick peck.

You watched as he strolled away, basket in hand, and made for the toiletry section of the store.

You were comparing toothpastes when you felt two men staring at you. You subtly turned your head in their direction, and they quickly looked anywhere but your direction.

You felt a slight sinking feeling in your belly and quickly threw one of the toothpastes in your cart. You made for the next aisle, looking around deoderant for you and Johnny, when the same two men appeared again, walking slowly down the aisle toward you.

Trying to brush off the occurrence as a coincidence, you threw what you needed in the cart and started to make your way to the shampoo aisle. Your resolve quickly crumbled when you now realized the men were following you.

The store was rather empty, so there was nobody close by for you to turn to. You sped your cart up and headed in the direction you thought Johnny might be. The men were hot on your tail, making it clear they were trying to get to you.

You felt one of their hands touch your back, and you let out a cry. "SOAP!"

Johnny was just finishing up his portion of the list when he heard your scream. His heart was beating rapidly as he dropped the basket and ran to you.

"Y/N?" He called out and was met with a horrifying sight. You were cornered in one of the aisles by two men and were crying, your hands up in a defensive motion as you crouched on the floor.

Johnny immediately approached. "Leave my partner the fuck alone."

The two men whipped their heads in his direction, rubbing their hands together. It was clear they were looking for a fight. Johnny lifted his shirt slightly, revealing his sidearm strapped to his waist. "Try it, I fucking dare you. You won't like the outcome."

The men clearly knew better than to create such a scene in a store and decided to flee.

Johnny watched as they ran and crouched down to your level. "Baby. Are you okay?"

You choked out a sob and wrapped your arms around your husband. "I was so scared, Johnny."

Johnny gritted his teeth in anger, he hated that anyone made you feel this way. It took everything in him not to go chasing after those bastards.

"I know, baby. I'm here now, though. Why don't we quickly finish up this trip and grab some takeout, yeah? I'm not really feeling up to cooking anymore." He pulled your face away gently and stroked your tears away. "I've got you, always, okay?"

You nod slowly and let him help you up. He grabbed your hand, lacing his fingers with yours, not letting go until you both reached the car.

[tamelee]

pls bottom naruto is disgusting stop drawing this ooc cringe

Eh? And it hadn't even been a full day.

Anyway, do you know what this means?:

It means… that I don’t give a damn about your whiny gibberish about this top/bottom bullshit, because it sounds incredibly silly. (And wrong because I draw both?)

It’s fine to have a preference, good for you (I have one too!), but if all you care about between a character-dynamic is the single notion which establishes a rule within a fandom that demands only this particular dick in only that particular booty and nothing else, while dividing yourselves between "us and them" while seeing the people who like the same exact characters as your "enemy" and treating them as such— well, 

I have nothing to say to you, I couldn’t care less what you think about me and I don’t know you. 

But for the sake of other creators who are often a target also, some which I know quit because of this… there is a little something I'd like to say about these servers:

You don’t think I (we) know what is said in there and by who? 👀 That your rules of "what is said on here stays here" with a bunch of people online that you don't know, is actually respected? Why do you think I never join any. And bet your ass that I'm not the only one. This constant fighting between NS/SN is such an embarrassment for this fandom, seriously. I hope you realize that.

Because, instead of encouraging a (new) creator to share something about the characters you claim to love (for fucking free) you go off chastise them for not “doing it right”/“your way”, pretending it's some unspoken commission no one knew of or was paid for. Instead of being happy there’s still so much creative contribution for characters from a story that ended years ago, you go complain under fanfics and dishearten writers, often grinning away with your little server-“friends” and make fun of work someone poured their heart in. Or, you huff, puff and breathe fire as you make plans to cancel them out of pure bitterness, to the point (especially new) creators are too scared and dispirited to ever share anything again. It's easy to do anonymously, aye? And if you think that doesn’t affect their lives and sends them right back into a crestfallen pit of dark hell because it prevents them to do/share the single thing in life that gave them a bit of joy, then...

Congratulations; you’re a heartless bastard.

And you, as a fan, did yourself dirty too.

Do you know how many people don’t want to share anything at all for this fandom because you people leave comments, tags, asks, tweets constantly complaining about an incorrect portrayal of the (in your opinion) only acceptable dynamic, like a bunch a brats? Do you? Because I’ve talked to quite a few of these discouraged creators, they have to hope for the best and pray they’re spared from your scrutiny. I receive it from both sides every now and then.

Again, congratulations: you’re the reason there’s less chance of you getting what you want in the first place. 

Do you... really not realize?

The more you squabble with "your enemy" (lol) the more it affects the "us" you care about while the rest of us just bask in the glory that is SNS/NSN and couldn't care less about what you think/have to say. So, keep everyone else out of it and go mope elsewhere.

But, between you and me? There are better ways to share what you think is right. Make something yourself, because what's stopping you?

You’re perfectly capable, it doesn’t have to be art or a fic, maybe there’s just something in the story that you really enjoyed— write about it. Make a meta. Post the panel, show the moment that determined your undying love for this single dynamic and why— whatever.  Because, wouldn't it be nice having someone encourage you to create something you like? 😬 Especially because you and your server feel so strongly about it? And then you don't have to depend on others either?

Wouldn't it be nice?

Well?

Hm!?

Try it, ffs.

[brandytusk]

The following thoughts, or maybe confession, contain Arcane spoilers. Please keep that in mind should you continue. It's a long story, I apologize in advance.

Now I will say, I am no LoL player, thus unfamiliar with its lore with the exception of what I search for, or what education I get from others. I had a passing interest in Arcane due to my best friend's insistence, rambling on about its beautiful art style, symbolism, and compelling writing. It was one of those things I did in fact, try and make a habit of to sit and watch at dinner, see what all the rising hubbub was about. I'll admit, I don't know where I stopped in season one, but I didn't finish it. As I recall, the plot felt too grim. To me, it felt like it was a show getting praise for being artistically depressing. When season one's ending was spoiled for me, I was glad I hadn't got as invested as other people I knew. To have developed characters so sincerely in a season's time, just to end it the way it was done…I disapproved, and I shook my head. Forgot it all at the time.

I'm a millennial who has lived through recession, through pandemic, and I am not middle class. I'm anxious, and there are days that feel hopeless and painfully long. I want to escape into the media I consume, let characters take me on a journey with them, far away from the oppressive, hanging air of everyday life in late stage capitalism. I don't want a tragic story, no matter how much it is praised for its art direction. Moving forward every morning can be bleak enough. Maybe others like these kinds of harsh stories for its relatability, and that's fine! I am happy for those that can appreciate it in that way, but I cannot. I'm tired, and perhaps not just as a struggling individual, but as an LGBT+ person with a husband.

Mainstream, popular shows (that get shown to American audiences, at least) don't often get obvious queer representation, or when it does, the show is often cut short. I felt baited in what I did see of season one, and rolled my eyes that fanfiction writers were fed enough to work their magic and fill the holes, as per usual.

Then, the next season of Arcane releases, and my social media feeds became flooded with screenshots and spoilers. I didn't block said spoilers and told myself I was no longer invested in Arcane -- only to see the most alarming screen captures I'd ever seen.

I especially liked what I'd seen of Viktor and Jayce in the past. I enjoyed seeing two intelligent, determined male creatives share screentime and share their story of a growing, deepening friendship. As far as I was aware, Jayce and Viktor were well bonded colleagues, if not each other's 'ride or die', once mutually and deeply invested in a greater outcome to benefit the whole. Compared to the rest of what I'd seen of Arcane's first season, it still hadn't gripped me enough to stick around as I wanted to save myself from heartache. Long story short, season two's spoilers revealed to me Jayce making a frantic, truly desperate effort to revive his fallen, disabled partner Viktor after the explosion. While he's successful, this fuses Viktor with tech Jayce once swore to destroy. Jayce draws close and is just relieved Viktor, in his birthday suit at this moment mind you, is alive, while Viktor is disappointed Jayce didn't keep his promise. They go separate ways, and the scene felt like an intimate argument, a break up. Well, at this point with that much revealed to me, I was relieved to see the two of them alive after the first season's ending. I was curious again, so I continued to look at screen captures and gifsets.

Viktor develops magic skills to heal others, and in his new body things, seem to fall into place for him. He is appreciated, and maybe it's suggested he gets a following. While its unclear how 'good' the arcane is, what he's doing with it seems right for the character. It looks like a victory…until Jayce comes along and puts a hole in Viktor's chest, keeping his promise. Viktor only meant to talk to him. Jayce, who had fought so hard to revive this man, kills him, as far as I'd seen it. It felt like petty shock value. Not knowing there was more episodes to come, I thought that was it. More tragedy, more pain.

My husband knows me well. I very rarely get affected by the shows I watch, and when I do, I am reserved about it. Instead, I sobbed, the kind where you can't see passed the tears and the snot. I felt so betrayed by my curiosity, by my hopeful feelings. I spent days ranting to my friends and my husband, offended and angry. How dare these writers throw around this disabled character and give him no relief, and what was more, develop two men in such a way as to suggest one simply cannot exist without the other only to shoot down one of them, by the hand of their partner? I had let myself be baited again, and I was feeling it. It burned, it hurt, I raged. I gave up.

A day or two ago, my best friend chimed in again: I should check in on Arcane. There had been more episodes, the season had finished. Trusting they knew how sensitive I was about all of it, I did. Again, I was moved to tears, but for different, much better reasons.

What was this?

Fortiche and its writing team had bothered to weave together and tell a story of two men ultimately destined for each other through every timeline, the kind of trope reserved for romantic movies and literature? They held hands, kept each other close, were honest with each other in the starry nothing. Hand to nape, forehead to forehead, and colorfully blinked out of that current existence, together? Such intimacy didn't need a kiss or a sex scene to feel real, there was love there. Their fated, interwoven existence, their deep and complex relationship, saved the world. In the end, there was hope.

You can tell yourself that it wasn't romantic if it makes you feel better, but in all its passionate details it very much was. To this stressed, exhausted LGBT+ person in these real uncertain times, I needed to see it. I felt deep relief, satisfaction, and most of all a need to pursue the Arcane fandom, a desire to enter. To at the very least, gush about my impression of it all, and what it means to me to see two men tenderly portrayed in ways they typically aren't. Fortiche, well done. You did give the Caitvi shippers something to blatantly feast upon, you also gave lesbian characters depth and variation, but this isn't about that.

You let two male characters show dedication, affection, and softness. Thank you. Jayvik folks, I am with you. Arcane, let's start over at the first episode, I can't wait to watch all of you now.

[separatist-apologist]

At this point I just like your posts with just skimming through it because I know your big, mature brain won't let me down with your opinions

And I need people know sjm is NOT a good writer lol. Just because she's famous doesn't mean she's the best one out there. Acotar is a missed opportunity at best. And most people who are hard-core fan of these book thinks these books are perfect and not because sjm keep retconing and changing and forgetting her own goddamn plot so they take everything for what it is. I've seen people criticised Mor and Feyre for leaving some dreamers at CoN and they don't care about them. No babes sjm just forgot about it all fkn together!!!

Okay I have thoughts about this. I'm once again slapping it under a cut just because its long. These are just my thoughts, feel free to disagree

There is nothing wrong, just to be clear, with SJM being a person's favorite writer. I think she is an entertaining writer and I think begrudgingly everyone in this fandom needs to admit that. I think she creates very interesting characters and places that people want to know more about and her writing is very accessible which feels like a burn but I swear isn't.

I don't think she's a bad writer, personally, but I do think she's just not interested in her own details or worlds the way her fans are, and I think this is true across every book series she's written. I think her problem is she writes the way I do- she knows how her stories end, she has a few key scenes in mind, and she figures the rest out as she goes.

This felt pretty evident in TOG, too- you could watch in real-time as her plots changed and she undid things it felt like she'd been building toward. ACOTAR isn't any better in that regard because I GENUINELY do not think she knew what she was doing plotwise when she started the series and it came to her as she went which is why the whole Amarantha things feels so ?????????

Even in TOG, SJM is not interested in the political maneuverings of her characters, the governing process, her political landscape or ANY of the things that a lot of people get frustrated by, to circle to your CoN plot. I think she relies very heavily on "x says they care and I'm telling you they're a good person, so the assumption is they're also a good ruler and we don't need to explore that any further". SJM drops these little pieces of lore like about Mor's cousins or the women of Illyria or whatever and then doesn't do anything with it or even recognize, in my opinion, the conclusions her readers are drawing.

And I think its because to her, she's told you what you need to know. Rhys is a GOOD ruler because the people of Velaris love him AND because she tells us so. Tamlin is a bad ruler because he exacts taxes on his decimated population AND she tells us so. And when people examine those statements, it starts to crumble, in my opinion, which is why I think people get defensive. They don't CARE about the political workings of this world, they just want to read about hot people doing hot people shenanigans.

I do think that going to a SJM book for thoughtful worldbuilding and an interesting magic/political system is a mistake. Having read every series she's ever written, I do not think this is her strong suit and I'm tired of being told I only think so because of internalized misogyny. I think SJM is a good character writer- her characters are compelling, and even anti's typically have a favorite character they wish had been better fleshed out or had been done more with or would be better explored in future books.

This is all over the place- I'm just writing my thoughts as they come to me. Ultimately, I think SJM's books typically don't stand up to heavy scrutiny and that depending on what you're looking for in a book, you're going to come away with different levels of enjoyment. For me, I hadn't read anything fiction in like, six years because I'd been knee deep in academia and it was the first thing I read just for fun and it WAS fun. It IS fun, even now. It's a brain off read. For better or worse, ACOTAR isn't complicated or hard to understand- SJM tells her readers what to think AND feel all the time, so you don't really need to think about any of it.

But when you read other fantasy in her genre, it becomes clear that like...oh. This is just mediocre. In some places it feels like a poor retelling of other stories (TOG has HEAVY LOTR moments, for example) and thoughtless culture stealing that feels offensive in places (CC feels especially bad in this regard given how she's stitched together like, 3-5 different cultures without a good understanding of any of them).

I'm not saying anti's shouldn't still discuss their issues with it. But I will say that if you're looking for a well fleshed out world and a political system that is interesting to read and characters who are consistent and don't bow to the whims of the author and plot, you're probably going to have a hard time with ALL of SJM.

[fitzs-space]

I absolutely love ur mer designs for Etho, Grian and our lovely sea monster ofc lol. Do you have any more in depth refs for their designs, id love to see more of how they look if possible! /nf ofc

only really had the couple rough sketches for their designs unfortunately! given its how I work with most of my stuff with just quick sketches like this. But I'll give the couple details I remember adding into their designs! Main notes will be I spent more time on Etho because I knew they'd be seen the most,, also that this this Is a default of how I've always drawn mermaids, with the whole dark eyes and covered in scales and fins, more siren esk in a sense.

with Etho the main things I remember adding is chancing the headband and gloves to be more like kelp being wrapped around/ braided, because In general I like drawing mermaid outfits with a more found object type vibe to them. the other main thing was intentionally giving them 9 fins in their design, 6 on the tail, 2 on their fourarms, and the one on the back. Cause I enjoy drawing Etho with the kitsune vibe. even though I;ve only ever drawn them with the full ears n tail like,, once or twice? who knows.

Also! points points, finally had an excuse to draw their tattoos!

only notes I really had for Grian was wanting him to have the rounded Fins cause feather vibes. and I never really looked up actual fish or animals when I draw quick designs, so I go off pure vibes and vague memory of what I think the animal looks like,,, and we end up with stuff like this.

and drew them with the void damage again! thought it would look pretty to have a tail and scales that looked like a void/spacelike. and It wouldn't have been a good colour pallet to have him in just pure red with the poncho and tail bein the same colour. I did also try the white hair too, even just being streaks like my s5 Ex design, but It wasn't really working out.

I looked at my old design of Xb and went, "what can I do to make this being even prettier." and here we are /hj the full sea monster style Is something only like five of the hermits would have seen, so its not a common thing. I'd like to think Xb also like triples in size when like this, but its hart to show that when its just a single character shot like this. the default Xb design I will use is the "just some guy" kinda thing with only a couple fishy details if you look close enough. the whole a couple scales around the eyes like freckles and a vague impression of gills that are mostly covered up buy the hoodie anyways. the third eye is something Xb always keeps closed, and is normally hidden behind bangs

yada yada, I draw my Xb design as a character who just does everything to act as "Just some guy" and not as a full on monster of the deep sea kind thing only other design notes would be me adding the runes into Xb's horns, cause I've got some random magics lore Ideas, and I've been meaning to also add some to Tango's design as well and I originally had drawn Xb's earrings as a way to match with Hypnos, forgot that I drew this one with just a teardrop,, but I know my Hypno design does have both a eye and a bell on his earrings. Silly reference to a cool fic that was a good chunk of inspiration to how I characterize my Xb

Idk, not as many thoughts behind these designs as I had in the ties comic, but still a couple none the less!

[ramblingzombpossum]

I keep going back to something from therapy today. During morning check in we have to write how we're feeling, it's literally "What is your mood today?" and today, I just didn't know. I was flipping from one mood to another so fast that I couldn't wrap my mind around one emotion or mood.

When I wrote "I don't know" I expected a bit of push back, someone to tell me that's not acceptable, there is no way I can't know. We all know how we feel right?

Well, instead the therapist smiled and said "That's ok." They know I have schizophrenia, and apparently I've lived with it all my life. When I apologized she insisted I didn't have a reason to, it's ok to not know how you feel.

One of the points my one on one therapist is hammering home, is when I say "I don't know" people are going to be confused. People who aren't schizophrenic DO NOT understand. I grew up with it, I've learned to adapt and hide it.

Hallucinations are weird? Ok, I'm not going to talk about it, or I may draw attention I don't want. Hearing things isn't normal? Alright, we chalk that up to 'keep to yourself and hide.' Oh, the random moments of "Lol I could just die" or "Man I could sleep and never wake up" aren't necessarily normal? Cool, that will not be spoken about. (That last one is common in a lot of things, but it's thoughts I can remember having as young as sixish.)

But the phrase "I don't know" has always been demonized to me.

"Why did you do that?" "I don't know" "NO you absolultely know why, so why did you do that?!" It was a rather common reaction, from everyone. For years, because in most people's minds, they know.

Before I got medicated, I didn't realize how bad it was, how I would sit there, and just not know what I was doing. I'd have moments of full unawareness, and I still do at times. I dissociate, something I never knew what it meant until I was forced to acknowledge it. I go off into my own world and completely disconnect from life, going on basically auto pilot.

Sometimes I'll do something, and I will have a reason, but after doing it, I have no idea WHY. My brain doesn't work right, it never has, and I learned the easiest way to avoid it, was withdrawing. I could just not talk, I could just live in my mind and be fine. As an adult this doesn't work, it makes life harder, it makes everything harder. I literally sit at home sometimes and just lose time. I've become obsessed with time checking, to make sure I wasn't off in my mind for hours.

Even now I have an aversion to "I don't know" even if it's the truth. I find myself scrambling for a believable lie because "I don't know" is unacceptable, it is very much a sin. No one has a brain so broken that they don't know.

But I do, I don't know why I do a lot of things. I don't know why I say things sometimes, or why my brain jumps to something completely out of left field.

Someone asked me to describe my thought process on something, and it went a little like... A needs to happen for B to happen, but if C occurs then A will be ruined, and B can't happen, so obviously I need to do Y, D, F, G, and L before anything else to make sure that A can happen.

None of it makes sense, none of it comes together, but my brain is so loud and jumbled, even with anti-psychotics I have auditory and visual hallucinations. Not as bad as it once was, but it happens. I can hear voices as if someone is standing over my shoulder, telling me just to stop. Give up. Let my body crumble, and cease existence. No one will ever care, no one will miss me.

I know this isn't true, I fight against it daily.

Sometimes I turn around in my house while I'm alone and think someone is standing in the kitchen. Nothing solid, a shadowing form in the vague shape of a person that catches me off guard, but I've learned not to show my fear. How can I react to things when others don't see them? That's weird, and society says we should never be weird. How does one explain when they want to just hunker down, grasp their head and scream to drown out the voices? How does one explain what it's like to be plagued with things, delusions of being immortal, delusions of everyone hating you. The idea that in this life you'd be more of a contribution as a memory than a living being. The paranoia of what everyone wants. The paranoia of not knowing what is and isn't actually happening. The Paranoia that you're going to say the wrong thing, and wind up hospitalized because 'you're not normal.'

There is nothing fun about this, there is nothing easy. I've been fighting a silent battle for who knows how long, and a lot of people say I'm strong for being open. I'm not being strong, I'm being weak, because I'm tired. I'm so very tired, and I don't want to be strong anymore. I want to lay down, I want to have a day where I'm not constantly shifting through my thoughts, where I'm not trying to decide if the person next to me is talking to me, or if its one of the voices trying to tear me down. I don't want to be convinced that everyone is out to get me, that everyone will leave, everyone is just using me in some way.

I'm just tired, I'm tired and I don't know what I feel. I keep going because I want Bean to know it's ok. I want her to never worry about asking for help. I want her to realize, sometimes we all have battles we don't share, and that's ok, but it's also ok to ask for help.

In the end, I'm tired, confused, and I will never be able to answer everything, unless I'm allowed to be honest and say "I don't know."

[igncrxntripley]

So I have a bunch of storm coming in. I don't know if you are comfortable can I have a female who has a fear of thunder and Rhea Ripley "comforting" female!reader by making reader focusing on Rhea?

headcanons: thunderstorms

a/n: making this into headcanons bc i haven't done any for rhea yet, also i hope this is what you were looking for!!

mentions: SFW, fear of thunderstorms, mentions of thunder/rain/wind, use of rhea's real name, reader’s gender isn’t specific

taglist: @ripleyswhore @babybatlover @thesithdiaries @auburnwrites @neptune-lover @i-have-issues-lol @ares-athena @bunnysmyname

demi wasn't scared of much - she threw herself through tables and hit people for a living, she didn't have time to be scared of something like a thunderstorm; but she knows when her partner is scared of something and she immediately is going to jump into action to make things better.

with the changing seasons and temperamental weather, thunderstorms were getting to be a more common ocurrence and were your actual nightmare. they were so loud and scary, and sometimes it felt like no matter what you did nothing eased the fear of the storms.

your girlfriend, demi, took quick notice of this the first time a storm rolled through during your relationship. she spent the majority of the time calming you down and didn't even think twice about getting you to focus on her instead of what was going on outside.

"baby, look! i made a blanket fort! i have all the snacks and a movie, and our chargers in case the power goes out, and i even grabbed those headphones in case you need them again!'

there's no doubt you and demi are spending the entire storm in that exact fort; she only used the best and thickest blankets in the entire house so it covered up the sound a little better, and the two of you would be huddled under another blanket for an extra sense of security.

i'd be a fool if i didn't specify that the two best guard dogs in the world, barry and luna, are protecting the fort through the storm to make sure both you and demi were safe.

with each crack of thunder, your body jumping and a quiet whimper leaving your lips, demi's arms would tighten around your body and she'd whisper the sweetest things she could manage; "shh, i'm here. we're safe right here in the house, yeah?"

you had to give demi credit, as she was trying her hardest to make sure you were feeling safe and comfortable. but she had no clue how deep this fear of thunder really went, and she knew she needed to start getting more creative.

the next time the thunder rolled, demi could see the tears building up in your eyes. it didn't help that the power was flickering and the wind was picking up outside. but she was determined to make sure you were okay throughout the rest of this storm, and she decided that she needed to go back to basics.

demi would turn you in her arms so you faced her, only able to look into her stunning eyes as she tightened the blanket around your bodies. what she said next took you by surprise, but it most definitely made you focus on anything other than the storm outside.

"you ever have that one thing as a kid you thought you were really good at but in reality you were just a kid and your parents wanted to keep your confidence up and made you think you were good at it?" she'd ask with a smile, taking amusement in the somewhat shocked look on your face.

demi wasn't done there; "in year 7 there was a talent show at school and i was convinced that i needed to showcase my insane hoola-hooping abilities." demi would smirk, her fingers drawing patterns on your back as she held you close.

she'd continue to go on about these silly stories, holding you close the entire time and smiling every time you giggled at her. demi's tactics work so well that you don't even notice the storm wrapping up outside and the only remnants being some light rain and wind.

the terror on your face was replaced by shock when you looked at demi, and she would giggle at you as if she'd accomplished the biggest thing possible. "i told you we'd get through the storm."

needless to say, every thunderstorm after this was not nearly as scary as they used to be - that is, as long as demi was home.

[binuwe]

Maybe I'm not good enough at reading the plot’s underlying messages, but it wasn't until the lake or birthday preparation episode (22nd to be precise) that I understood the menace Fukiko's insanity is.

Because what the actual hell. I knew she was manipulative and a liar. I knew how she pretended to be a mature and responsible girl to the eyes of the Sorority and the Academy. She had previously behaved with cruelty towards Rei (I'd like to talk about her masochist tendencies one day), but what happened in this episode did shock me.

In prior episodes we saw how aloof these young women could be. The threatening to Mariko with razors, the strange pointy instrument used for flower arrangement on Rei's hand, or even that time when Fukiko locked Nanako up in the Sorority's basement. Now, each and every of these actions are horrendous... But to see an attempted murder was truly something else.

I do believe Fukiko didn't want to kill Nanako (I hope lol), just scare her. To remind her who was in control, who stood above everyone else. She took such drastic measures to ensure Nanako thought twice if she was ever to do anything that could reveal her vulnerabilities... WHAT?! I know we all know how these girls are insane, each of them due to their personal and diverse reasons. Nonetheless, this case is the one that struck me the most.

Something that freighted me was her behaviour during the act, she was smiling as if it were her daily cup of tea. Fukiko could have ended with Nanako's life and she never dealt with any responsibilities, which shows how her social status gives her once again unlimited elusiveness to punishment. 

Fukiko saw Nanako as a threat to everything that maintained her power. Is ironic how she wanted to mock and humiliate the younger in the first place, how the naive Nanako indirectly opposed her values and beliefs. It amused her in the beginning, a source of humor. But when she saw how this girl could A) Help Rei, and B) Dismantle her image, Fukiko acknowledged she had to take the matter into her own hands. 

Now, let's analyse the true horror of this scene:

• The apparition: 

On a small boat, impulsed by absolutely nothing for the oars are motionless, Fukiko makes her apparition to Nanako. She carries a parasol, as if she had prepared herself for an actual aquatic stroll. We must remember that instances earlier she had fired a service worker and looked agitated, making her casual and "peaceful" appearance so... creepy. And if you believed it couldn't be more odd, she proceeds to jump off the boat into the lake.

• In the water:

Nanako, to the sudden action, becomes worried and approaches herself to the water. Just like a mermaid, Fukiko emerges gracefully from the water. Out of nowhere, she grabs the younger's ankle and pulls her into the lake. Fukiko draws Nanako deeper with a sadistic expression on her face, completely conscious and aware of her actions. Meanwhile Nanako fights for her life, because one her foot got caught between two branches, the Sorority's President swims away to the surface. But not yet. She stays and observes the other resist until she's almost unconscious.

• Outside the water:

From the middle of the lake, Fukiko emanates with Nanako between her arms. She becomes the saviour of the girl she had condemned. 

The abusive behaviour of Fukiko is concerningly accurate. She asks for forgiveness, she excuses herself, and she feigns preoccupation. Fukiko wants Nanako to understand how powerless she is against her. She's not only older, richer, more astute and influential, but also physically stronger. She threatens her subliminally, for she doesn't have to express what she wants, she knows Nanako will understand. It's utterly terrifying.

Anyways, love this show. 

[honey-beann]

I'd Burn Every Soul I Knew (If I Thought the Fire Was Warming You)

rk boys (Nines, Connor, Sixty) x Reader

Chapter "One" - In Medias Res

Word Count: 3,169

Welcome to the first part of my new series, the title of which is listed above (and is also a quote from an unreleased Hozier song lol).

This series will be all three rks x reader, except unlike a normal series, we'll be starting things off randomly from the middle! As the series goes on, we'll go both backward and forward in time to give exposition and make sure there's clarification in various parts! I'm super excited for this, since I've never done anything like it before, and I hope you all enjoy!

Note: For some initial context, know that the boys were never detective androids in this universe, but were rather created for another purpose entirely :)

"We shouldn't leave her alone right now, but she needs to get cleaned off and warmed up, so do you want to stay out here with her, or go draw a bath?"

You could hear Connor's voice distantly, as if he were underwater or several rooms away, and the thought made you scowl, the idea of being any closer to alone than you already were instantly causing your anxiety to spike.

Damn, you really had gotten too used to having them all around.

In front of you, you could scarcely see a thing despite your eyes being open, your vision unfocused and blurry as you tried not to look too closely at either of the men in front of you. You had no interest in taking note of just how blue their usually white shirts were the way you had on the car ride back to your apartment.

"A bath? Have you been paying any attention to her since we got back? She's half delirious, you're basically asking her to pass out and drown in there if she takes one now."

Sixty's voice sounded even further away than Connor's, and you buried your head in your hands at the sound, a persistent and gnawing reminder of the one voice you hadn't heard.

"She needs a bath, Sixty. Put her in a shower and she could end up falling over, which is a far more likely outcome with her in the state she is now."

You heard Sixty scoff in response before footsteps that you felt more than you heard faded away as he presumably made his way towards the bathroom.

Connor on the other hand, walked towards you so gently that you scarcely would have noticed him if it weren't for the way he said your name, quietly and with caution, as if afraid you would shatter at the sound.

You shook your head indignantly, not wanting to look up and see all of the blue blood that had gotten on him earlier, desperate to escape to a reality where none of this was happening.

Connor sighed, his hand coming to rest gently on your shoulder as he spoke,

"I changed already, you don't have to hide."

He murmured, his tone ever so slightly amused but mostly just cajoling as he tried to persuade you to see the truth of his words for yourself.

Slowly, as if the speed of your actions might change the outcome, you lowered your hands from your face, slowly allowing your eyes to glance over the room a few times before finally coming to rest on Connor, who was giving you what you imagined was supposed to be a supportive smile, that just so happened to look much more like concern.

You sighed shakily, murmuring a gentle thanks in response to his thoughtfulness regarding his bloodied clothes. You hadn't expected to be so upset by them, but then again, you'd never expected to see them at all, much less on your androids, and far less from them.

It was a staggering experience to see that they truly weren't invincible. You wished you'd never had to find out at all. At least not the hard way, not like this.

Connor hummed in response to your soft words, reaching down wordlessly to tug at the hem of your shirt, pulling the white button up out of your dress slacks with ease before he raised a questioning brow, asking without words if he could keep going.

You nodded.

It would be far from the first time Connor had seen you mostly or even entirely naked, in fact, they all had at this point, having taken care of you for so long.

You were better now, less weathered by pain and illness thanks to their lingering support, but you couldn't help but almost wish the suffering back to take away the dull ache of fear and uncertainty in your chest.

You had only just finished questioning whether or not the constant discomfort would truly have been worth it when you realized that Connor had removed all but your undergarments from you, folding your stained clothes over his forearm before he took a silent step towards the laundry room just down the hall.

"Don't."

You said, your voice quiet but stern, causing the android in question to halt all movement almost instantly. He turned to face you soon after, his head tilted slightly but his expression one of patience, as if he were willing to wait all day to find out what you were thinking.

You sighed shakily,

"I want you to burn them."

You said, watching as Connor's brow rose before he looked down to the clothing in his hand, clearly not understanding.

You elaborated.

"I don't want to see them again, I couldn't bear to be reminded of..."

You trailed off, but Connor took the opportunity to nod in understanding regardless, placing the clothes on a nearby breakfast bar stool before he approached once more.

"Okay, if that's what you want then I can do it while you're resting later in the evening."

He reasoned, not giving you any time to argue about details before he switched topics entirely.

"Sixty just notified me that your bath is ready. Is there anything you want to bring in with you?"

He asked gently, and you shook your head, far too eager to have the remnants of today washed from your body to care about your comfort.

When you entered the bathroom, Sixty was waiting for you, his hand skimming across the top of the water as he checked the temperature to make sure it was the way you liked it.

"It should be between 99 and 102."

Connor stated matter of factly, causing Sixty to hum dismissively in response.

"I know."

His gaze shifted up from the water's surface to where you were standing.

"Any better?"

He asked, his words brief but their meaning heavy, as per usual when it came to him.

You shook your head silently in response, reaching your hands backward to unclasp your bra as you did so.

Suddenly, without warning, Connor's LED lit up a bright yellow, and he straightened up a bit, brow raised, before making eye contact with Sixty, his tone calm despite how obviously little he enjoyed saying what he was about to say.

"They want someone to come down and answer some questions about Nines. Can you stay with her?"

Sixty seemed to falter for a moment, hand no longer skimming the top of the water as he contemplated the meaning behind what Connor was saying.

If he was considering leaving you here with him alone, than the situation was likely dire enough for it to be worth soothing their emotional human companion.

He nodded.

"Where else would I go?"

This reaction immediately caused Connor to shake his head in response.

"No, I don't just mean at the house, I mean here in the bathroom with her. She has some bruising on her ribs that I didn't notice earlier, so she shouldn't be left alone in the tub."

Sixty's gaze shot over to you, scanning your body for signs of injury until they landed on your left rib cage, where they lingered for quite a few moments before he finally nodded again.

"Yeah, we'll be fine. Just don't let Nines find out or he'll blow a fuse."

The joke was in poor taste, but Connor did little more than roll his eyes in response before his focused returned to you, his hand reaching over to unclasp your bra for you before you could find your way back to earth after hearing that Nines was bad enough for the medical staff to need some questions answered.

Still, out of little more than habit, you shrugged the garment off of your shoulders before shimmying out of your underwear, stepping over them afterward with a blank expression as you worked persistently to avoid seeing yourself in the mirror.

Connor noticed this, and shot a glance towards his successor before he nodded to the both of you in farewell.

"I'll be back soon. If you don't hear from me for a few hours, assume everything is alright. I will keep you updated on the important things."

He promised, reaching over to offer a hand for you to hold as you stepped into the tub before finally letting go a few moments after you were sat down, his eyes trained on yours as he did his best to convey that everything was going to be alright with his actions alone.

It did little to quell the growing anxiety in your heart, but you appreciated the effort nonetheless.

Meanwhile, Sixty reached forward to turn the water on once more, filling the tub further now that you were inside of it in order to ensure it was at the perfect temperature for you in the moment.

Connor and Nines rarely let you choose things like this, since the warmer the water the higher the chance of you feeling faint afterward, but Sixty was always far more concerned with your comfort the very second you were experiencing it than he was the future. From his perspective, he could fix whatever issues your body threw at you as long as you actually bothered to tell him what they were.

In fact, in his eyes, it would be worth it to rend his artificial skin from his artificial bone just to ease the unwavering pain in your eyes.

Just to make you smile.

Whether or not he really knew that he felt that way, was an entirely separate issue.

And the only one he was truly concerned with, was whether or not you did.

That, and the way your eyes stayed fixated on the now slightly blue tinted water that you had sunk your body into, afraid to look up and see your reflection staring back you, to see how the life giving vitality of another had changed it.

Sixty sighed at the sight of your obvious struggle, knowing all too well the feeling of being unable to look at oneself in the mirror.

Or, to see yourself so physically in another who was so clearly superior.

He got up without a word, and, making a show of it so you knew what was about to happen, flicked the light switch off.

With that persistent glow from overhead gone, the only thing illuminating the room was his LED, which made it nearly impossible for you to know whether the blue in the water was the light, or the blood of a loved one.

"Can you get in with me?"

You voice rang out so suddenly and with so little warning that Sixty paused as he stood near the closed doorway, his mind searching for an easy answer that would not come.

He was not usually the one you went to for comfort, Connor knew your heart best, Nines your mind, and that had left Sixty with your body, and he had learned to understand that with as little physical interaction as possible.

The sight of his hands resting upon your skin unsettled him, as did the way you trusted him so easily, as if you weren't so readily aware that he had been built for violence, brutality in the cases where it became necessary to protect you from some unknown evil that you had grown to fear but never to name.

It confused him, how comfortable you were with hands that had maimed and killed so many and gently touched so few.

Confused him, and left him wishing he were capable of holding you the way that the others were. So gentle, not for fear of harm but rather to convey a message of understanding, of comprehension far beyond what Sixty worried he could manage.

Built to look so similar, it was a shame to be so different.

He wordlessly got into the tub behind you, watching and undressing on approach as you scooted forward silently, the water sloshing around your fragile form as you made room for his threatening presence in that way no one else ever did, or he imaged ever would.

You knew his intentions regardless of his still mouth and tensed hands, always so good at seeing, so good at understanding.

Blessed be the hands you touched your monsters with, blessed be the eyes you saw them through.

If he could make them permanent fixtures on this earth he would, but instead he knows he'll simply have to shed his own consciousness the very moment you do the same.

Loyal brute, loyal fool, loyal follower, anything if he is yours.

Everything if he is yours.

He settled in behind you so easily that it almost felt like he belonged there, a thought so foreign that it did not even register until long afterward, while he was watching your hair dry by the smoldering flame of the tinder you had provided Connor with earlier.

The air had smelt of thirium when he realized it, burning gore and rose shampoo, which came from where you stood beside him.

He had thought of the petals of the flower as he stoked the flames rising off of your still burning shirt, thinking of the way that they all folded together so perfectly, so completely, that he could surely be nothing more than the thorn on your stem.

But then he had thought of the bath tub, and the way that your back had felt slotted against his chest as the warm water lapped at his synthetic skin, and how your hands had felt on his arms as you used them to keep yourself from slipping slightly on the slippery porcelain while the water settled.

Even as a well fitted thing, he had still caused a disturbance. When did he not?

But the future was still unknown for the moment, so he did not think about these things as he settled into the water behind you, instead choosing to ask if you were comfortable, only to be met with silence when you simply nodded, head tilted back in what the android took as a request, a gentle invitation, to make sure it was clean.

Sixty ran a few gentle fingers through your hair, doing his best to de-tangle what he could without hurting you before he began to cup water into his palms, using it to cleanse your locks of any dried thirium that had begun to grow thick and clotted there, so ironically similar to blood for all that it was not.

When he was done with that, he found the bottle of shampoo that he liked the scent of best beside the tub, and massaged it into your scalp, being careful not to pull.

He truly did know your body best of all, no matter how frightened of it he was.

You leaned into his touch slowly, as if hesitant to do so, and he said nothing about any of it, choosing instead to warn you to close your eyes as he used his hands to gather water once more, rinsing your hair of anything that had remained stuck on after it's de-tangling earlier on.

Your body came next, and you stood for that part, shivering in the cool air as it came in contact with your warm body, allowing him to not only feel your frailty, but also see it even clearer than he already had.

It was remarkable how much power something so fragile had.

Once you had been thoroughly cleansed of any traces of the day, Sixty was cautious in turning the light on again, eyes trained on your reaction thoughtfully all the way up until he had you wrapped in a towel and leaving the bathroom entirely, bound for your small room of soft robes and a plush mattress, one he had picked out (with the help of his "siblings" of course. Nothing ever got past them otherwise).

Sixty's thought regarding his counterparts had him faltering slightly as he guided you over to the edge of your bed to sit you down as he searched for clothing comfortable enough for you to sleep in later that evening.

He had seen the exhaustion in your eyes, and if Connor had been here, he would be insisting that Sixty was keeping you awake for all of the teary tired present in your gaze, but the younger android knew better. He knew you would fight it off until Nines either walked through the door himself, or was carried through in a bag of miscellaneous parts by his predecessor.

Not wishing to dwell on that thought, he soon settled on a large t shirt you had bought him at a concert a few years prior. He hadn't particularly enjoyed the music, didn't even really know how to back them, but you had seen him looking at it and bought it without a second thought.

So giving no matter how much was taken, he worried you might one day lose yourself to the pull of selflessness.

A selfish concern to be sure, how ironic.

Helping you get dressed with particular care being given to your bruised rib cage, Sixty was sure to scan your vitals multiple times throughout the process, always convincing himself that it was more for Connor, who could see the live data, than it was for him.

He was a liar, but he didn't need to admit that to himself, much less to the world.

Once you were finally comfortable and ready to relax for the evening, Sixty silently followed you out into the living area, setting you up with your favorite blanket on the couch (despite pretending to be surprised when you mentioned to him that it was your favorite when he laid it over top of your still vaguely shivering form) before he tried to think of something you could eat.

He had just come up with a few ideas to present to you when he noticed your shoulders shaking as your head rested heavily in your hands, and without a sound, he approached, sitting down beside you.

He let you cry for a little longer after that, so unused to comforting you in favor of his counterparts that he was rather unsure of what to say until finally, he simply said the only thing that came to mind.

"He's going to be okay. None of us are ever going to leave you, not as long as you need us."

His tone was firm and far less compassionate than the one Connor or even Nines may have used, but it must have done the trick, because you looked up at him weepily soon after, eyes wet and hands shaking as you took a deep and unsure breath.

"So you'll always be here?"

You all but wheezed, so desperate for comfort that the straining in your lungs was nothing if it meant receiving reassurance from someone.

Sixty responded without hesitance, his tone deadly serious as he spoke,

"We are yours. We won't leave unless you ask us to."

Connor called about Nines exactly 9.86 seconds later.

masterlist

AO3

[stepswordsen]

【Magi】 Judar Wearing Hanfu 🖤❤️🐈‍⬛

【Magi】 Judar wearing hanfu 🖤❤️🐈‍⬛

【マギ】 漢服（ハンフ）を着るジュダル

Intro

Judar is my fave Magi chara, and JuAli is my fave Magi ship, so I REALLY wanna create plushie designs of them one day, as well as a Tegaki fan-animatic MV... It's my dream 🙏

My unhinged gremlin black cat son who's Black Sun, Moon, and Eclipse themed! 🐈‍⬛☀️🖤🌙

1st Judar doodle is a planned concept art reference sheet I wanna do for my headcanon design of him wearing black and red hanfu 💞

2nd Judar doodle is based on a Vocaloid song parody with JuAli (Judar/Alibaba) x Unfriendly Hater by Meddmia (drawn by WOOMA) 🖤❤️💛

In my HCs, Judar wears a type of hanfu called Ruqun (襦裙). Ru (襦) is the cross-collared top of a hanfu, and the wrap-around skirt is called Qun (裙). The coat jacket is called Da Xiu Shan (大袖衫)

He'd look great wearing black and red hanfu with white and gold accents~ The black outer coat jacket is slightly translucent, so it'll show the cross collared top's red sleeves through it.

I drew some tentative rain drop earrings for now, but I imagine he would wear gold and red hanfu earrings, and/or snowflake/icicle ones (since Judar is an ice magic user) ❄️

I've been forgetting to post my doodles from my side account onto main, so here you go. I missed talking about my son and drawing him.

I think my art style is getting more refined 🥰💖 The way I draw faces/eyes has been improving steadily! The first Judar doodle was the first time I experimented with an eye style with thicker eyelashes and underlashes! I love the new eye style a lot, so I've comfortably settled into it for the rest of my arts.

I want to draw him in different styles of huafu too, but I made the main hanfu he wears in my HC version, simple to draw (black coat jacket, red cross collared top, black wrap around skirt) with simple patterns, just for my own sake.

...

I'm obsessed with Meow meow mf charas. Black and white colour scheme and design aesthetics. Black and/or white hair. Black Sun & Moon themed. Sharp tsurime eyes. Eyeshadow. Causes problems on purpose. C*nty Sen-core bastard cat. Smug chaotic edgy evil asshole character. Violent, unhinged, bloodthirsty and murderous. Arrogant with a huge ego that distances them from humanity (or social interactions).

I love "Sen-core Meow meow mf" and "Cunty Sen-core" bastard cat Annoying Nyam Nyam types like him /pos <3 🐈‍⬛💗

Judar's long black hair with braids, and black + white + red + yellow design hits my fave aesthetics 💗I love his braids sm

Judar is my fave Magi chara. No one is surprised LOL. Judar is a perfect Sen-core character.

Especially since I KNEW I have a history of being obsessed with Kuroha (KagePro) since I was 12. I knew exactly what would happen

The fact that my evil unhinged meow meow pipeline has led me from Kuroha (2013) to Judar (2022) is really not surprising at all.

It's so funny rereading my messages from 2022 when I first read Magi and guessed that he'd be my fave after seeing his 1st CAMEO appearance 😭😂 It's like watching my downfall in real time /lh

My friends mainly associate me with my meow meow mf faves like Douman, Xanxus, Judar, Idate, Kuroha, and Hibari. To be known for them is an honour ✨ It makes me very happy (❁´◡`❁)

Judar's a fun chara and a perfect squishable gremlin it's natural I'm devoted to him. I love my son

I wanna draw even more of him cuz he's just so fun to draw. I need to practice more cuz I have trouble drawing his spiky hair at times

I put the rest of my doodle WIPs, and talks of my headcanon design for him, and my art process under the cut ✨ Cuz I don't think I ever talked about how I got obsessed with this chara in full? I'll put that too

WIP Shots

The last one is an older doodle. I still like aspects of it but I'd redraw it (also the above doodles are just better drawn versions of it)

Headcanon Design

Judar wears hanfu and hanfu earrings in my headcanon design.

I imagined that he would wear gold and red hanfu earrings, and also snowflake/icicle ones! Silver snowflake ones, and glass icicle earrings would be cool...

So I think I may wanna put snowflake/ice and dragon patterns on his hanfu. The silhouette of a Chinese dragon (ice dragon) would be rad 🐉

I want Alibaba to wear traditional Arabic clothes (white and yellow). I've been looking into it for now, but I wanna draw it soon... I also HC Alibaba to have tanner skin in my HC design

Ohtaka is really good at harmonizing colour palettes (seen with the volume covers). I loooove using teal/cool tinted black when colouring my meow meow mf faves, so this is a treat hehe

Since Judar is from the Kou Empire, which is based on China, I wanted to project Judar's ethnicity onto his design more (since many friends who I've spoken to from my other interests didn't know he was even CN inspired until I told them)

I always take aspects I like from canon and imbue it with my own tastes! I base my drawings on my own headcanons/interpretations of my faves.

I agree with the above post <3

Magi is in my top favourite series ever in terms of art and writing. It's generally peak imo

Magi's biggest flaws are the whitewashing, colourism and racial stereotyping (ex. racially stereotyped clothing in the character designs) and some parts of the setting being bastardized takes on SWANA and South Asian cultures, and I've always been critical of that.

Of course, it's totally normal for cultures to do cultural exchanges with each other, but that's not what's going on here.

A lot of EA media feeds into insensitive/distasteful racial stereotypes on non EA cultures, we don't need more of it being perpetuated in fandom spaces. I personally won't be drawing certain Magi charas in their canon clothing designs.

Ohtaka's drawn him (Judar) in hanfu before, it should've been his canon clothes instead.

I love his hair design with the braids sm. I draw him in huafu in my HC design instead as a fix-it for the obvious colourism going on in Magi's chara designs, and also, the charas' clothing designs and parts of the settings too, being bastardized and racially stereotyped takes on SWANA and South Asian cultures.

WIP Shots (Art Process)

I drew these, which I like, but I liked the original best (up top). A few of them have slightly more curled hair strands! I think 1st and 2nd are the best in capturing the vibes, but the others are also interesting to see. I might incorporate some aspects from them when I refine this doodle

I think there's a lot of improvement from my past doodles. I still like this but I'd redraw it (since I feel like my recent doodles are just better drawn versions of this)

Admittedly I'm MUCH better at drawing meow meow mfs, so I haven't gotten the chance to draw Alibaba yet.

I find Judar's spiky hair hard to draw so I'm still trying to decide how I want to draw it...

I love how Ohtaka draws the shape of his braids. I didn't get the time to refine the sketch yet so I just blocked in the shape of his braids roughly with a silhouette (so I'll go fix it later)

I wanna redraw and refine the hair and clothes later 👍

I think when I actually get to colouring, though, I'm gonna desaturate the teal tinted black colour slightly

On the 1st sketch pass, I just care about making the face and eyes look good (since it's usually the main focus of my pieces)

Then I just scribble whatever for the clothes.

And then when I go back to clean up the sketch, then I fix everything else, including the clothes

Inspiration

(Magi: Kou Empire Arc - Ch. 255 Spoilers)

I was rereading the Judar vs. Aladdin fight in the Kou Empire arc and I love how dynamic Ohtaka's art is. I'm in love with the compositions

Judar's ice dragons and the the last page with Judar being themed with the moon!!! That's so cool. My son is so cool and iconic

Judar’s leitmotif is the Black Sun and Moon ☀️🖤🌙

I reread the Kou Empire arc so many times cuz it's SO good art/writing wise and just in general like WHDSHDHSH

But this is why I want Judar's hanfu to have snow/ice and ice dragons on it. I'll make it an easy pattern/silhouette and use a stamp brush probably cuz uh I don't want to have to draw that by hand every time

...

Ohtaka is one of my main art inspirations of what I wanna draw like someday in terms of technical skill. Her inking is godly.

Ohtaka is BRILLIANT with inking, dynamic battle compositions, perspectives, and colours... Her art is soooo good, it's such visual eye candy.

Ohtaka is brilliant with complex dynamic perspectives and inking. She draws GREAT expressions. Her colours harmonize really well. She's a brilliant author/story writer.

Her inking style is so unique. And it fits thematically too with how Magi is mainly in black and white (black and white rukh)

Since Magi was loosely based on 1001 Nights for the charas' names and parts of the setting, the roc/rukh is a giant legendary bird.

It's apparently a reference to Rukh/Rok (A mythological bird) and Rūḥ ("Essence/Soul")

Source: (X)

The way her inking stands out on its own with minimal screentone usage (except for BG effects and lighting) is a testament to her skill

Misc Rambles

These are my top fave meow meow mf faves.

My top main faves are all very important and personal to me, just in different ways. So I tie them all as no. 1 ✨

Irt Judar and Kuroha/Saeru, they're completely different characters personality wise, since Judar is mischievous, bratty and playful, childlike and emotionally immature (due to his personality and context), but they have similar~ish designs and a couple similarities, in terms of their basics.

As in, they're both evil black haired meow meow mfs with similar expression ranges, who are bloodthirsty, sadistic, and love causing violence for fun. They have the same Sen-core character type.

They have similar~ish hairstyles (black hair with braids in the back, unique eyes (Kuroha's snake eye pupils and the rings in Judar's eyes), and are unhinged bloodthirsty meow meow mf core charas

...

My History

(Magi: Ch. 15 - Judar's 1st Cameo Appearance)

Ok I don't think I ever told in full my origin story with this chara, I guess. Basically I was going off the mutuals/blorbo osmosis and just my friends' rambles at this point before I read the series.

And I was reading back my messages of what I sent to my friends at the time

I first read Magi, I think around Sept 2022, two chapters, then started again in Oct 2022 read to Ch. 15 saw Judar and was like. (.) 🧍 This design is Sen core. Don't let me go down like this.

When I first saw Judar’s CAMEO in Ch. 15... I had a feeling.

Cuz I sensed Sen core meow meow mf.

I felt my doom. I knew it... I sensed it with my instincts 😭

WHEN I FIRST SAW THIS PANEL OF JUDAR, I WAS LIKE OH NO... I SENSED MY DOWNFALL.

And then I was like, "Well I made my bed, so time to go lie in it 👍"

Since I saw the charas from my friends' tweets before, can you believe that at this point I was like "Wow I wonder how my would be ship interact together. They're on the same page!!!" 🤸

THIS IS INSANE OF ME DSAKLSDKLKLSDKLS

My friends were like "I can't believe you're shipping them this early 😭 Even before they actually interact omggg"

And I started shipping JuAli by Ch. 15. So before they even interacted. So when I JUST saw Judar. And then I doodled them right after (it was my first doodle of them!) 😭😂 LMFAOOOO

Good god me getting obsessed with charas/ships is like my insanity speedrun

Me with JuAli and KuroEne... Insanity speedrun x1000000

Like I had a feeling that he'd become my fave by his first CAMEO appearance... He makes his first major appearance around like ~Ch. 44

Douman took 5 days for me to be obsessed with after I found out about his character/writing.

Judar just took me seeing his 1st cameo appearance in the manga.

Kuroha/Saeru took just seeing the Outer Science MV when I was 12 (Tbf, Outer Science is peak KagePro and is one of the best KagePro MVs in terms of visuals and storytelling)

...

Judar is extremely important and personal to me, I feel this as someone who comes from a similar cultural background to him as well, Judar is EA/CN inspired and so his background and backstory context really makes me feel for him… Speaking personally, as someone who is Viet/SEA diaspora.

Considering Judar's backstory context, and his character arc themes of resentment and grief… Wahhhh ;__; I can mildly relate to him.

Like, ahhh, this character makes me so emotional… He makes me want to cry (in a good way). Emotional tears, cuz this chara is so healing and cathartic for me. I'll punch him out of love! 🫶

[ryuichirou]

Replies

Some replies! Mostly about Skully, but also a headcanon-y one about wrestling, and also one about song lyrics.

thestarlightfae asked:

I love the lighting! The jack-o-lantern really looks like fire!

Thank you!! I am happy it looks good! <3 I love playing with lighting hehe.

Anonymous asked:

UWAHHHH THANK YOU FOR DRAWING SKULLY 💚💚💚💚

Oh he looks very lovely in your style. And the colors and his face tooooo ughhHhhhhHhHhhh

Love him so much 💚 (；∀； )

HEHEHE thank youuuu!! I’m happy you liked it so much!

Skully is very fun to draw, so we enjoyed the process a lot as well. I would love to draw his other facial expressions too at some point…

lusetmv asked:

Just wondering, now that the event is over, how do you see Skully, top or bottom?

We haven’t finished it yet, but from the get-go he gave us top vibes. The boy has a bunch of qualities we like in tops 🤔 We most likely won’t change our mind as well, so it’s a safe bet <3

Anonymous asked:

Have you ever thought about a wrestling au for the twst boys where one of the bottoms does the funny sexual distraction moves such as shocking the other by rubbing on them then taking them down after catching the opponent off guard?

Sorry for the abysmally late reply, Anon; it’s a very old one and I wonder if you’re still here…

I’ll be honest, I haven’t thought about anything like that before you sent your ask, but I can see a couple of twst boys sabotaging others ilke that in a wrestling match.

Epel would be a champion of that, considering he excels at making men around him all confused and smitten and then punching them in the gut LOL He would be so hesitant to use sexual distraction tactic at first, but if one little rub down there is enough to make his opponent lose focus, he’ll do it!

Vil is probably the one who told him that in the first place, so of course he uses it too, but not as often as Epel. Vil doesn’t really need to do it – he fights very well even without that lol

Jamil is also very good at seduction, but uses it extremely rarely and very sneakily, this is why whenever he does that, it’s almost traumatisingly good. The poor guys never know what happened…

Also… you know what? Deuce might use sooome form of that. Even less often than Jamil, and it’s always a “I don’t know, I acted before thinking” thing, but damn this boy has good instincts?? His opponents would never expect that from him…

The world of wrestling is so exciting and vibrant lol I wonder what everyone’s “stage names”, signature technique and other stuff would be like! It could be such a fun and massive au, but unfortunately we’re not into wrestling enough and don’t know enough about it to come up with any interesting thoughts…

Anonymous asked:

Can you think of any character who fits these lyrics?:

I fucked the reaper cause I knew

My time was coming can't you see

I was either gonna die

At 12 or 90-fucking-3

I'd do anything for twenty bucks

I'd sell my sour soul

Cause lemonade is bitter till you

Sweeten up the bowl

And I'm sitting in the bathroom

I'm crying citrus tears

Everything I used to love

Decayed over the years

You know, Anon, for some reason I thought too hard about this lol As if there is a correct answer.

In actuality, I just couldn’t pick one option, so here are three of my thoughts: Ciel, Idia and honestly either Malleus or Lilia depending on how you look at it.

[yuseirra]

My brain keeps running on its own trying to formulate a way to make sense out of it all but at this point, I wonder if it'd be worth theorizing(If I can think of something good I'll still love to share :) )

Believe it or not, I'm very, very, very stern about trying to stay true to canon.. Because working with existing characters, they have their cores don't they? I really do want to care about portraying them in ways that are true to how they are in their respective stories, that's what makes them, them

With onk.. I'm starting to wonder...(yeah I just started;) this may be the first time where I may go oh let's just ditch canon I'll do whatever I want depending how it goes. Maybe I still believe some sort of miracle may happen in the remaining chapters that'd wrap everything together at may it be cluttersome(sorry but there is literally no room left for it to be able to meet its closure in a beautiful and graceful way with a deep sense of nuance and depth the way this work deserves. It's INCREDIBLY SHORT. It cannot happen within that amount of space it needs at least ten decently lengthy chapters.) but..I don't know~~.....

Oh I'm more concerned than hyped and it's been that way ever since I started vigorously drawing for this series again this July tbh 154 was GOOD, how come everything went downhill from there haha😂.. That chapter had me so hooked and I felt I knew all the answers that were to come from that point forth. I really had a huge intuition of how things would play out(and surprisingly, the possibility is actually still there)

I don't think I'm the type of fan who can ignore canon and do what I want, I've never been that way and I can't bring to convince myself of what's not there (this means, I sincerely believe in all the things I've been drawing o<-<) but... Let's see how it goes. I was so stressed and tense ever since I started drawing hikaai...I don't like being unsure of things...what if they're totally different from what I make of them...but seeing how CANON's going, maybe I don't have to care so much either if it's doing whatever it wants, canon feels so unhinged, was there ANYONE who was able to predict what were to happen 100%? What are they doing?; So yeah.

Oh;; I hope Aqua's okay. It's just...so cruel. I've been annoyed with him but that's because I wanted him to live!!! Why doesn't he- why did he HAVE to do THAT?? Hurt his dad and everyone he loves and even himself, I'm trying to find a reasoning that's convincing enough for me to comprehend just how this could make sense and hold some kind of message although it's downright horrifying; I kept asking in my posts all yesterday right? What message are thet trying to send with this and what could be the point? I can understand if they do a good job with it, I've been putting my effort in order to make out what good may come out of it but I guess only the author would know for now

I don't know where this post is going myself, I'm just writing out my thoughts, this series may have taught me a lot about myself that I wasn't so aware of...

I guess when conflicts appear I end up going, "they couldn't have had malicious intent, could they?" on many occasions, you really don't know what the other party can be thinking so for most cases, it just feels better to believe they didn't mean harm or evil. Maybe I'm being that way about Hikaru but AI LOVED THAT GUY. I didn't have a lot of thoughts about him before that dropped! I couldn't make a clear judgment so I just left my interpretation of him on hold. Oh ;v;).. It's been REALLY ROUGH holding out for him after that happened pft will that pay off.. That guy's still so ambiguous. I rather him be a good person. The story is better if he were. I guess believing in someone is hard but I'll.. Do that till I can. I think Ai would have?

You know, if I were Ai, I'd end him with my own hands if he became that messed up. That's how I drew that one comic after 162. I'd give him a hug and then end him lol because I'd feel responsible in a way. It's ridiculous and tragic how things turned to be the way it is but it doesn't feel so resolved either

I'm afraid about the fate of this series but at least not long left now. Hopefully I can still draw Ai and her bf in a wholesome manner, I really cared for those guys and I'd love to stick around and do more for it at least for awhile

[philtstone]

Aragorn/Arwen, 63

#63 -- tujhe dekha toh from dilwale dulhania le jeyenge ok so the soulmatism of it all had me going completely nuts (simrans waking dreams.....i need to lie down) & before i knew it i'd re-read their appendix had 3 literary analysis epiphanies and was neck deep in the wiki page on love death and meaning and the paradox of religion and nonreligion in tolkein i say all that like i didnt just write movie verse kidfic lol. ellie is a shortened version of "nethel" which means sister in sindarin. in a different time in my life i would have named every single one of canon girldad aragorns "many daughters" & also included 5 of them but alas, at this time i am Busy. so we'll pretend that the other 3 havent come along yet. arwen has magic powers she will be fine. enjoy!

“My lady Luthien!”

The words come into Arwen's dream in the common tongue, whispered and full of a child’s awe. He is speaking as if to himself — the text has surprised him, or perhaps absorbed him so that he does not realize his mouth is moving, disrupting the Sindarin read privately in his thoughts with an impulsive, delighted exclamation.

To Arwen it is just as mesmerizing. She cannot know why her dream has brought her here, to this garden of her father’s House she has sought refuge in so many a time. She knows him very little, this child, not ten in the years of Men and so very human about it, with lanky limbs folded up against himself to cradle the book and a mop of dark hair that falls down over his eyes and the very beginning of spots on his chin (of endless intrigue to Arwen, who has only ever seen skin unblemished). 

She has not met him, but knows of him from her brothers’ letters: her father’s ward, sweet and grave and beloved amongst the Rivendell kindred as any novelty in the shape of a child might be. But Estel earns it, too. He is earning his presence in her dream in the same way, sat in the exact spot she always chooses, under bows of trees she has long considered friends. He earns it, though Arwen doesn’t quite know why he’s here. 

Don’t you? ask her thoughts of her self, and she does not answer.

Years pass, and she is home again.

“My lady Luthien,” he says, as she comes toward him, and within his voice is a gentle embarrassment that still manages to tease. 

Arwen, firm in her earlier, gentle rejection (he is far too young), cannot help but find this terribly charming anyway. It is just after dinner, and she has found him behind a pillar to the side of where they dine. He holds his cup in both hands. Until her appearance he was studying the carvings on one stone edifice to their side, and seems in every way his mortal age save one: there is a new and convoluted weight in his eyes that was not there in the early afternoon, when he called so clearly and sincerely to her. It seems to have entered like the broken branches of a sapling swept into a fast-moving stream after a storm. 

“I should be greatly flattered, Estel, to be compared thus,” Arwen says, offering that weight a smile. Estel drops his eyes back to the pillar. He seems to start and stop a few times before actually opening his mouth, and when he does,

“I should like to still be called Estel, for a while yet,” and there is great vulnerability there, in his young man’s eyes. It sneaks into her breast and cups a hand over the breath she draws, and despite the glade, and his youth, and the Truth her father has now shared with him, she is compelled: Arwen’s own hand slides over his knuckles, and they are holding the cup together.

“I will,” she promises. “I do.” 

On the edge of the last word do his eyes flick up to hers, canny in a way that sparks beneath her skin. He lives up to his name, she thinks then (not quite knowing why), and when she writes this to him after they have parted, in the letters they now share, he writes back: so do you.

Before Estel, her experience of Death was altogether different. She knew it first in abstraction and then in keen loss. Now she feels its imminance and urgency, in both grand and mundane ways.

For example, earlier this evening, Arwen thought she might die if she did not kiss him. It was a thought that crept over her swiftly, silent and keen as a fresh ice water brook spilling into open hands, very different from the thundering roar of the river spirits she had summoned to herself – until it was suddenly quite the same, roaring, and it must have shown in her eyes. In the late quiet of the night she came to her rooms and found him, there. 

(She has long since known why.)

The employment of her tongue is not new, but pulls a murmur out of him regardless. “My lady Luthien,” he starts, speaking almost directly against her mouth, with a wry amusement that is not so unburdened as to be playful and not yet a warning, either, and then he is properly startled into, “Arwen —!” when her next kiss includes a bite. The rasp of beard against her chin is uncomfortable and delightful. She can feel the rumble of her small victory in his chest. Aragorn has always done so much with just the two syllables of her name.

When she has lost all breath she pulls away, and does not pant — sweet air made salty by urgency comes in and out of her lungs in discordant sighs — but her lips stay hot against his ear and she feels every press of his fingers against the slope of her waist, burning. She thinks of death again; she has fought it off. Twice in one week now, in very different ways.

Aragorn does pant, in his own way. He lets out a quiet gasp and drops his head against the side of hers, not trembling but finding some stronghold deep within himself that begets composure. 

Slowly she begins to comb her fingers through the hair at his temple. In the dark alcove of her rooms (safe), they sway together.

“Tomorrow,” he murmurs, and she knows: tomorrow the council is held.

“I meant it, earlier,” says Arwen softly, into his hair. It has begun to grey, the strands too hidden yet to shimmer in the moonlight but there nonetheless. Every so often she will catch a glimpse of them and it will leave her wordless, and desperate to touch him. “Your fears are not the truth you think them to be.”

“Arwen.” She can hear the desperation that threatens to choke his own voice. Duty turns the peaceful twilight of her home into a foreboding shadow. There are two large warm hands on her face before she has noticed them move, and then she feels the wetness of her own cheeks: she had not realized she was crying. 

“I did not know it would be so momentous to love,” she says, while he wipes at her tears with war-roughened, gentle fingers. So many things about Men are a paradox. So many things about this man. 

“Meleth,” he says. 

“I meant it.” She repeats herself. “I know who you are in my heart, Estel.”

“You do,” he allows her, and she is not certain he believes it to be enough. No matter, Arwen thinks: her own belief will sustain them. It must, long enough that he has hope for himself as well as for Men, and then they might cross through the door, to the other side of the Dark.  

The Queen finds her husband in Faramir’s study, reading.

“My lady Luthien,” she is greeted, words threaded full of the subtle humour that has turned her head for over sixty years.

Arwen clasps her hands over the laden basket she packed without needing any kind of foresight and sighs thinly. 

“I did expect, mel nin, that you had gone the whole day without food, but I had thought you would be found holding grave council, or visiting the head healer, or even – forgivably – in the stables. Instead, you are here, nose-deep in an ancient poem.”

“It did not come to you in a vision?” he asks, and raises his eyes just enough to catch hers from beneath his lashes. This does nothing to diminish the focus etched into his dark brow, nor the way he holds himself (always it calls to her – it does not matter the shape), nor the deep blue of his mantle sweeping against the floor; he has not paused to change since returning from the Southern Wall. Whatever peace he thinks his feigned innocence will win him, she cannot know.

“Your Steward told on you, my love.”

“Aaah,” his face falls, so dramatically it is amusing.

She holds up her basket. “I have lunch.”

“My beloved wife has developed the sensibilities of a Hobbit,” Aragorn says, in her people’s language.

“Hobbits are good and noble creatures,” she retorts. She always argues better with him in Sindarin anyhow, “and have traditions from which we might learn.” She arches a brow: “Estel.”

“I am eating,” protests Aragorn, somewhat weakly. “I mean – I will.”

“You might do so now. With me – there is no one else here.”

It is a potent suggestion, she does acknowledge. She watches him think about it, proud to note all the little tells which she has known since he was a barefaced and impulsive young man. The same canny look sparks under Arwen’s skin. Once, decades ago, she had met him in the wild woods beyond her father’s borders in a stolen moment between darkness and duty, and convinced him to bathe with her in the river. She remembers her joy at seeing his wet dark hair plastered all over his forehead. She remembers his own joy, and how it fought off the lonesome blanket of the gathering shadow.

“Your thoughts are of something I know,” Aragorn says now, suspicion arching his tone and narrowing his bright eyes, no longer that of a young man but still full of a life that thrills her. “Some joyful mischief that you’re going to coax me into again, no doubt.”

“There is sadly no river in the palace.”

“Aaah,” uttered in a very different tone from before. His eyebrows twitch out of their focused furrow and his face warms with the memory. He lowers his book a little. “Arwen …”

But he does not move from his spot behind the desk, so Arwen places her basket down and sweeps forward, intent. The silver in his hair streaks liberally now, and lines furrow down his cheeks when he laughs – often – but otherwise Aragorn remains mostly unchanged from the presence filling so little yet so much of the many years of Arwen’s memory. Affection rushes through her, swelling like the river, growing like the trees in Lorien. That glade, too, is a memory full of joy. He is much better suited to a beard, though. Arwen tells him this.

“So you have said many many times,” Aragorn says, chuckling. “I have no plans of removing it from my face, beloved.”

“I know,” Arwen hums. “I am only observing.”

Slowly she comes around the desk, on even steps, until they are very nearly touching and she can fold her hands over the top of his book. She takes a long moment to look at him, and though she in her chosen mortality no longer carries the same potency of power that Tinuviel’s blood held before, she conducts her habitual scan of his spirit, the truth of it ebbing through her fingers where they touch. Beyond her duties as Queen (of which there are many, and she both capable and willing) this is what Arwen knows most deeply in her heart how to do. 

Finding Aragorn no more burdened than usual (though perhaps a little distracted) she leans in to whisper in his ear.

“Ah –” he clears his throat and touches two long brown fingers to her arm. Unexpectedly, then, Aragorn stage whispers, “We are not … as alone as it seems.” 

“What exactly do you mean?” Arwen, paused very close to his mouth, is compelled to whisper back.

And then,

“It’s alright!” comes a familiar little voice from seemingly nowhere, and all at once Arwen looks down to see the outside shape of the King’s voluminous cloak wriggle. Her mouth parts in surprise. The whisperer continues importantly, “You may kiss Ada if you like, Naneth. We are not looking!” 

“Ssssshhh!” materializes a second, equally familiar little voice.

Arwen tilts her head, mystified, as her husband sets his expression into something communicating exclusively the secrets and patient indulgences of fatherhood. Then he jerks his chin towards the door, eyebrows raised and everything, not a moment before there sounds the sharp cadence of what can only be a young boy’s footsteps (and Arwen would know this boy’s as she knows her own heart) and into the library bursts their only son. 

At the sight of his parents, Eldarion comes to an abrupt halt, and tries very hard to compose himself. 

“Ahem,” he says, straightening. She sees the way his body moves to mimic his father, and also the grass stains on his knees, and the disheveled mop of his curls that means he has definitely spent the last hour running around in the gardens. Arwen is unbothered by this. “Hello Ada, hello Naneth. Have you – have you seen my sisters?”

The front of Aragorn stays conspicuously still.

“Your sisters?” asks Arwen, clasping her hands demurely before her.

“I am afraid my attention has been elsewhere,” says Aragorn gravely, holding aloft his book.

“Indeed,” adds Arwen. “So much so that he has forgotten to eat.”

Minutely, the cloak quivers. 

“Hmmmm,” says Eldarion, lost in focus. “I must find them to create an alliance with the brave rangers in the North,” he speaks, almost as though to himself – he is really giving this quite a bit of thought. He is so absorbed that she could be in Rivendell again, drawn by a dream into her beloved, occupied glade … “For we must defend the townspeople but I cannot do it alone.”

Arwen blinks. Her heart is filled with tenderness.

“They have assigned you the role of orc again?” Aragorn is guessing, sympathetic.

Eldarion droops only a little before springing back up with full confidence. “Yes! But I am determined that we will create an alliance. I am a good orc, you see.”

With hasty goodbyes, he rushes away, taking the excitable sound of his footsteps with him.

A moment of quiet passes. Aragorn’s cloak begins giggling, so he spreads open his arms and herds them out one by one. 

“You must go quietly now, down the hall and into the gardens,” whispers their father.

“Naneth,” begins their youngest, halfway out the room, “Naneth, do you think if we formed a nalliance –”

“An alliance,” corrects Aragorn, still whispering.

“Shhh,” interrupts the other, “or Eldarion will find us!”

“But he must be getting lonely!”

“Oh, ellie …”

Their little voices trail out of the door.

“I believe an alliance would work,” Aragorn offers Faramir’s many inert books, speaking at a normal register once more. The study now empty, Arwen turns back to her husband. His eyes are twinkling. She does not say anything, but moves toward him, as she has done so many times before, and lays her head to rest against his shoulder. In moments the book is tucked away, and the warm hands she knows so well are cradling her arms. 

After a moment he says, “You are well? Arwen?” a gentle question in her ear. Arwen nods. She can now say what she knows, and why they are here: 

She sustained them, and there was hope to be found. 

Aragorn’s fingers rub over the gauzy sleeve of her dress. “Did you have your heart set on lunch?” he asks quietly.   

“I did,” Arwen says, and turns to hold his eye. “I do.” 

[eleni-cherie]

a thief's end ✨ || bts • myg - chapter 1.1

"so eager to be in a headlock again?"

"only if it's by you."

he thought he was done with the criminal life and ready for some peace and quiet. but his plans collapsed in the form of a strange girl who was in trouble.

© 2023 | eleni_cherie

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masterlist: here

— genre: thief au, gangster comedy, adventure, romcom, humour, angst, fluff, sexual tensiON, slowburn, mutual pining, strangers to lovers s2l

ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSE. CHARACTERS NOT NECESSARILY LIKE THE REAL PERSONS. ALSO VERY UNREALISTIC PLOT LOL - JUST PRETEND READING A MANGA/COMIC OR WATCHING A FILM, REALLY.

SUGGESTIVE THEMES. MENTIONS OF VIOLENCE & BLOOD (BUT NOTHING TOO GRAPHIC, IT'S STILL A COMEDY!)

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"I just realised.. this is my first time in Europe."

Soyeon's random confession made Yoongi perk up from where he was leaning on. Offering her an aknowledging hum.

Both were standing against a stone fence, seperating the pavement from a slope behind them, while waiting for the other two to return with a new car. They knew everyone would be on the lookout for the silver mercedes and besides, the bullet holes in it would draw unwanted attention from locals and police as well. So a new car would be saver. 

However, this would usually only take a couple of minutes, so Yoongi began wondering what was taking them so long.

Meanwhile, her eyes caught a waiter at a restaurant down the street walking in and out, greeting random people passing by, some walking their dogs some not, seemingly being acquaintances. It was such an odd but also nice sight. And it made her realise that she was in fact in a different country.

She might've been there already for days, but most time spent locked up in a room so it hadn't really sunk in that she was in fact in Europe. And that for the first time in her life.

She looked curiously around, taking in the different architecture, shining warm under the streetlights and all the noises. Mainly chatter coming from the restaurant and crickets' buzzing. 

"You've been here before?" she asked then, tilting her head to Yoongi who had been suspiciously quiet all the time.

Her words interrupted his train of thoughts and he blinked for a moment. "N-no. But we've been in Italy a couple of times over the years.."

She hummed, admiring the scenary again. "Must be nice to travel so much."

"It's nice if you got time to actually enjoy it. But it's also quite exhausting.."

"You sound like an old man!"

Her teasing made him scoff playfully. More giggles errupting from her and he smiled. He liked her like this. Carefree, without worries and fright.

"Wished I travelled as much.." she exhaled then and looked up at the dark sky past the streetlights, "If it hadn't been for this situation right now, I'd have never left Korea."

"It can be exciting. But you'll eventually miss home, sooner or later," he mumbled and glanced at his phone, wondering where the other two had been. And even though he was trying to downplay it, she could sense the heaviness of the topic in his voice.

"You ever miss home?"

He paused, a torn poster catching his attention for a moment when he realised he had never given thought to it all those years. "I.. I don't know," he answered honestly, shoving his phone back into his pockets, "Never had a close bond with my family anyway. Except my mum and.. well.."

"And your uncle?"

His lips curved into a sad smile and he nodded.

They grew silent once again.

Getting tired of standing, Soyeon pushed herself up onto the stone fence in a swift move, taking a seat on it. A breeze brushing past her cheeks from the open space of the hill behind her.

She sensed there was something different about Yoongi that night. Sure, he wasn't always the most talkative one but for some reason he felt so.. distant and aloof. As if he was miles away in his mind.

She sighed, biting her lips in a guilty manner as she suspected knowing the reason for his strange behavior. 

"I.. I think I owe you an apology," she slowly began then. Her words causing him to frown.

"Why?"

She huffed, arching an eyebrow at him. "Isn't it obvious? If I had listened to you.." Her gaze fell in shame. "I tried keeping you away from the mess but ironically only dragged you more into it.. and now you even had to come all the way here to Italy to bail me out. So I'm sorry."

Yoongi remained silent, his stoic glance laying on her for a moment more before he shook his head and glanced back at the torn poster of some italian singer. "If someone should apologise it's me.." he quietly said then. The embarrassment of having failed still lingering in his chest like a heavy rock.

Soyeon only looked at him puzzled though, a small 'huh?' leaving her lips. Waiting for him to elaborate.

He dragged a sigh when seeing he had to actually say out loud what he'd tried to suppress these past days. "They got you right in front of my eyes. Twice. Okay? And I couldn't do anything about it." Ruffling his hair in frustration, he turned around to rest his hands on the stone. Staring out at the silent city spreading in front of him when all the stifled emotions crawled back. "Fck. If I was more cautious.. I should've protected you from these guys, but I couldn't. And at the end you were the one protecting me. And that's why.. I'm sorry."

Hearing that made her swallow hard. She never expected him to feel bad or even guilty about that day. Mad and angry at her for acting so foolish? Most certainly. But not guilty.

Slowly she turned her head to the side, seeing his afflicted expression. A deep crease between his brows as he was propping himself on that stone fence. She didn't want him to feel bad about it.

After all, those past days of uncertainty and loneliness, one of the memories that kept her company besides those of her family and friends - who were probably wondering why she wasn't replying to them anymore during her 'vacation' - was the one of the weeks prior. The memory of him and the short time they had spent together.

"Don't be an idiot," she whispered, looking at him with sorrowful eyes. Her hand engulfing his which was placed next to her, "It's not your job to look after me all the time, so don't feel guilty. None of this was your fault. It was mine."

He huffed a breath, glancing at her briefly before redirecting his eyes to the scenary in front of him. Arguing would be pointless, he knew she was just as stubborn. So he dragged a sigh into the night air. "Let's just say it's both our fault then."

She laughed but eventually nodded, accepting the compromise. "Fine." Leaning in closer to him then, she placed a light kiss on his cheek. Observing his expression softening. "Thank you for coming here and helping me. Again."

He gave her a small nod, a shy smile tucking on his lips as he looked away. "Anytime." 

Taking his previous position of leaning against the stone fence, he went back to looking out for any sign of Taehyung and Jimin, who were taking way too long. Hearing Soyeon yawning into the palm of her hand then. A sudden tiredness overtaking her and she rested her heavy head on his shoulder. Making him tense for a moment before he smiled to himself. Wrapping his arm around her back, his fingers lying on her waist. Giving it a light squeeze.

"I didn't ask you earlier, but you're okay, right? They.. they didn't hurt you, right?"

She nodded when seeing him glancing down at her with concern in his eyes. And she rolled her eyes. "I'm fine. Great, actually," she ensured him with a grin. Hearing him sigh in relief when another breeze brushed by.  And she heaved her head from his shoulder, her hand reaching out to cup his cheek and forcing him to look at her dark irises. His rushing mind calming under her soft touch. And she frowned while staring at his pouty lips. Making him wonder what made her pretty face so upset.

"Why are you endangering yourself for me?" she whispered then, more to herself than to him. Finding his eyes again.

"You know the answer."

Yeah, she remembered. Back on the rooftop when sharing their first kiss. However, she was still dissatisfied with his explanation, adverting her eyes from his again. Unsure of what it was that dissatisfied her so much, finding it both, incredibly sweet and highly irrational. What was she supposed to make out of this? Or him? He kept confusing her all the time, but maybe that was his charm. What laid beyond his cool and mysterious aura, a sweet and caring side. And she felt herself falling more and more for it.

Her lips found his, startling him for a short moment before easening into her. And his fingers curled around her waist as he deepened the kiss, pressing her more against his side when suddenly the loud noise of a roaring engine echoed from down the street. Causing their lips to abrubtly part and he sighed disappointedly. Already knowing who it was.

Brushing a streak of hair off her face, he pecked her lips one more time before taking her hand to help her get off the stone.

And as they walked to the red Fiat that had come to a halt in front of them, ignoring the grins of the guys in the driver and passenger seat, Yoongi could already spot the reason for them taking so long. Three pizza boxes stacked neatly on the backseat when entering and another opened one on Taehyung's lap. The younger guy already munching on a piece of pizza when throwing them an innocent grin.

"Was hungry and thought we could all do some late-night snack."

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Half an hour and four empty pizza boxes later the car parked in an alleyway behind their hide-out. An old fashioned Italian building in the north-east of the city. Having avoided any main streets where they could've come across police.

Everyone was tired and yawning when stumbling inside and climbing up the stairs. Soyeon's hands clutched around the fabric of Yoongi's blazer that he had given her due to her sneazing with the open car windows. It was way too big for her, but she didn't mind as she always preferred oversized clothes. Especially if they smelt as nice as his. And she trotted behind them, following them into the apartment.

Taehyung switching on the lights, ready to hit the couch when suddenly recognising a bunch of people in front of them. All pointing their guns at them. And he rolled his eyes. "Seriously now?"

"Hey!" Jimin pushed Taehyung aside with a huge grin plastered on his face as the other three held up their hands. "Pops! What ya doing here?"

"What I told your friend there," Seokjin grinned, motioning with his chin to Yoongi who was looking unimpressed. "If you guys get back to business, I'll come back as well."

"Really, pops," Taehyung dragged a sigh then, rubbing his eyes, "Your timing's miserable as always."

"Yeah, any other time I'd be happy to see you and your entourage.." Jimin pointed at Jungkook and Skylar who were standing at Seokjin's side, "But it's been a long day and we're dog-tired, so can this wait till tomorrow?"

"Why are you tired?" Yoongi mumbled behind him with a frown, "You literally drank two espressos back to back. You should be awake all night."

Jimin shushed him over his shoulder before grinning at Seokjin again who had ignored their little quarrel. The agent shook his head, laughing under his breath then. "Ya! Don't complain, it was you who purposely led us here after all." He glanced at his younger colleagues then, giving them a nod to which they moved, lowering their guns and instead got their handcuffs out. And Yoongi screwed his eyes shut, throwing his head back. 

This was exactly what he'd wanted to avoid. Getting his friends involved and arrested. And yet, it came as it had to come. Interpol got them again. Even if they had been prepared to sooner or later face Seokjin and his agents again, since they had indeed led them to Florence on purpose, it wasn't supposed to be this early. Catching them unprepared.

Yoongi couldn't help but give Taehyung and Jimin an apologetic look as they got handcuffed by Jungkook and Seokjin, to which they just shook their heads, assuring that it was alright while Skylar put handcuffs on him. Tucking at him lightly. 

"Wait," Seokjin told her suddenly and stepped forward. Only now noticing Soyeon who was standing there behind Yoongi. Her short hight letting her go unnoticed among the taller guys.

"And who are you?"

Soyeon blinked, feeling exposed and anxious not knowing what interpol would do with her. "J-Jeon Soyeon."

The agent carefully examined her to figure out if he'd come across her before. Having a sudden light-bulb-moment then. "Are you the one with the stolen necklace?"

The young woman froze, swallowing hard before nodding. Fearing she'd now get arrested as well. However, much to her surprise Seokjin only cocked a brow at her, seemingly puzzled himself he laughed out. "What are you doing here with these dorks?" His brows furrowing then voice lowered. "Did they make you participate in any crime?"

"N-no, no they didn't!" she stuttered, her voice becoming more determined then, "That crazy rich guy kidnapped me and these three here saved me." She gestured to them with a smile.

Seokjin narrowed his eyes at her for a moment, concluding she spoke the truth. And frankly, he wasn't the slightest surprised by them doing something like that. Another reason he had a secret soft spot for these specific thieves, although he'd never admit that for obvious reasons.

Besides, it didn't matter. It didn't change the fact they were wanted criminals.

He turned to Jungkook and Skylar then with an amused expression. "Guess we just found out the answer to our question." Facing Soyeon with a nod again. "We'll take your testimony at the station."

"She won't get in any trouble, right?" Yoongi asked worriedly, glancing at her then at Seokjin. And Soyeon smiled at him in awe. Even with an agent holding him handcuffed and arresting him, he still bothered for her.

Seokjin oy rolled his eyes at the question. Lightly pushing Jimin out of the door, causing him to stumble against Soyeon. "Told you already, she won't."

And the four got escorted out.

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"I'm gonna be honest," Skylar spoke up then after a long time of silence between her and Jungkook. They were sitting in the car, following the transporter with the captives and Seokjin through the narrow streets of Florence when she felt the urge to speak up her mind. "I got mixed feelings right now."

Jungkook, who had nodded off shortly due to the late hour, thinking that Jimin maybe wasn't so wrong in proposing postponing the arrest to the morning, stirred up by her voice. Glancing at her with knitted brows. "Huh, what? Why?"

"Because.. I don't know," the blonde sighed, stopping at a traffic light. "We had put them behind us, didn't we? I, at least, had accepted that with them settling in Taiwan, we wouldn't cross paths ever again. Even inspector Kim had accepted it and went to the research unit. And I was kinda glad we wouldn't have to deal with them anymore..?"

Jungkook hummed, stretching his arms. "Yeah, I get it. I also thought that chapter was closed." A yawn left his lips then. "I mean, what's the point in arresting them if they simply escape again anyway."

"Exactly.."

"But see, it's our job. We wouldn't do it right if we just let them slide."

Skylar's glance fell on the steering wheel. Not able to deny his words and yet, a tiredness overcame her. "You're right, I guess.."

"Hey, Sky, look at me," he said softly and her eyes slowly wandered to him. Seeing him grin boyishly. "You're the team leader now, don't forget that. Even if they escape again, it's up to you to make it as hard as possible for them to do so."

And the younger agent couldn't help but smile at this.

He always found a way to encourage and assure her whenever she doubted herself or the job. And she loved that about him, his never-ending enthusiasm.

She leaned over towards him then, placing a quick kiss on his cheek before the light turned back green. Quickly sitting back, she drove off. Ignoring Jungkook's astonished expression that was soon replaced by a mischievious smirk.

"During work? Thought that was frowned upon," he said, stifling a chuckle.

Skylar simply shrugged, smirking. "There's no one here to see us though."

The older guy sighed and leaned back with a chuckle. "Sky, Sky, Sky, since when are you so loosey-goosey? Did I finally get through to you?"

Peeking at him, a fond smile tucked on her lips as she turned into the street of the interpol branch office. "Maybe you did rub off on me a little bit over the years."

They arrived at the station. Assisting Seokjin in leading the thieves inside.

The loud noise of a phone ringing suddenly being heard. Making everyone look around when Jimin glanced at Soyeon over his shoulder, winking. "You should maybe pick up that call," he said with a lopsided smirk, before getting nudged further down the corridor.

Soyeon's eyes widened and she looked down. Realising the ringing was indeed coming from her. She patted over the blazer until coming across a cellphone in the pocket. Wondering if it had been there all along. "H-hello?"

"Jimin, whe- Who are you?" An upset sounding female voice answered on the other line. Soyeon blinked confused and lowered the phone to actually read the caller ID. 'Bella-baby'.

Her brows rose. This was Jimin's phone. When did he-?

She quickly turned away, continuing in a more hushed tone. "He's in a situation right now.. I'm Soyeon."

"Oh.. let me guess, they got arrested again?"

"Y-yeah."

"By pops?"

She was about to ask who Arabella meant, when she remembered them calling agent Kim like that. "Y-yeah, by him."

"Oh!" the older girl exclaimed excitedly, "Were Kookie and Skylar also there?"

Soyeok blinked, taken-aback. Not having expected such enthusiasm when talking about the people who arrested her boyfriend and his friends. "Ehm, yeah. Agent Jeon and Blake were also there."

"Aw, just like back in the days!"

Jimin watched her quickly excusing herself and rushing to the restrooms, fearing of any agents eavesdropping. And he smiled to himself, knowing exactly who the caller was when they were led through an office room with several desks. Spotting another two agents at a corner. The gang immediately recognising them from a few years ago.

"Ayy," Jimin laughed out with a wide smile, "I know you guys! Thanks for taking care of those idiots back then." 

Hoseok and Namjoon exchanged a glance when seeing the three thieves being brought into the back cells.

"Should I say 'you're welcome'?" Hoseok whispered irritated to Namjoon, to which his colleague only shook his head with a dismissive look.

"It was our job, we didn't do him a favour."

Hoseok nodded in relief, seeing Seokjin coming their way then. "So, apparently our mutual friend Felipe is now also involved in kidnapping," he laughed dryly, shaking his head as he pulled out a chair to take a seat.

Namjoon huffed at this new information, folding his strong arms in front of his chest. "That's quite the progress from mere art smuggling."

"And enough to hold something against him in exchange for info," Hoseok mumbled, "At least I hope so. He's currently our only potential source to getting closer to his business partners."

While the art smuggling part of Felipe Rossi's business fell under Seokjin, Skylar and Jungkook's department, the organised crime part fell under Hoseok's. And some specific parts of his business partners' crimes fell under Namjoon's special victims department. Resulting in the two partnering up with the robbery department again just like a few years ago.

"You think he'll sing though?" Seokjin wasn't fully convinced, doubting the plan would work out this easily. "According to the rumours that Morita isn't to be trifled with. Perhaps he'll prefer going to prison than snitching on him."

"Perhaps, but it's worth a try."

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next chapter: 1.2 here

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