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#from memory still draws them perfectly. kinda
kulaykonfetti · 2 years
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childhood show drawn by memory (that’s how bonkers i was)
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yamujiburo · 8 months
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POKEMON SERIES RANKED (IMO)
I get this question a lot and haven't made an updated list with Journeys
Original Series (S1-S5)
Sun & Moon (S20-S22)
Chronicles (S0)
Diamond and Pearl (S10-S13)
Advanced (S6-S9)
Journeys (S23-S25)
Black & White (S14-S16)
XY (S17-S19)
Original Series (S1-S5)
OS had that first season charm. Very unpolished, still finding its footing but super enjoyable for those reasons
Probably the strongest series comedy-wise
That GORGEOUS 90s anime style
Main character dynamics were REALLY strong
Ash's personality felt much more like a shitty little 10 year old which was entertaining
Dub writing was also the best hands down
Sun & Moon (S20-S22)
Honestly tied for first with OS for me
REALLY fun ensemble cast! They do a fantastic job giving each character enough time for you to get to know and care about
Excellent modern anime style that perfectly fit the vibe of the season and allowed for some of the best character animation of the show's run
Finally figured out how to write Ash like a 10 year old again (but in a kind/sweet 10 year old way as opposed to OS)
Very different from previous series in terms of the formula they'd follow. Doing a school series instead of another "8 badges to championship" plot felt new and fresh!
This series genuinely made me cry the most (MEMORIES IN THE MIST!!!!! LIKE ARE YOU KIDDING ME)
Chronicles (S0)
Fun concept! It was really nice to see more of the side characters without Ash there. We get to see more of Misty, Tracey, Daisy, Brock, Ritchie, Oak, Delia, Butch, Cassidy, Jessie, James and Meowth!
Stylistically really nice. Just solid drawings all around and it retained the 90s anime style in digital form more successfully than other digitally done series imo
BUTCH AND CASSIDY!!! Team Rocket centric episodes!!! Training Daze!!!!!!!
Idk how possible it would have been (seems like a TON of work) but it made me want one of these in between each season, where we'd follow the characters that Ash had just said goodbye to for the next region.
Diamond and Pearl (S10-S13)
Series I grew up with! Honestly I was kinda a hater as a kid but having watched it back, I love the series
Love that Ash and Dawn were bros. They had a really fun dynamic.
Debatably peak Team Rocket. They had some of the best Team Rocket centric episodes this series.
Contests were really fun and a bit more figured out compared to the Advanced series
Fun, memorable rivals for Ash (Paul and Barry) as well as Dawn (Zoey, Kenny and Jessilina sometimes)
This is unfortunately where I stopped caring about Ash as much. He feels kinda watered down for the next couple series.
Advanced (S6-S9)
Pretty tied up with DP for me
Really fun series! Still had some of that early Pokémon charm
I appreciated that they put Ash in more of a mentor role for May (but he still had a lot to learn himself).
Ash and May constantly butting heads was really fun
May was a very compelling character to me, being very clumsy, kinda lazy, directionless, not really into Pokémon, etc. But then over time, she comes around and finds something she's interested in!
Journeys (S23-S25)
I love the episodic take as well as the way they let the characters jump around from region to region at random
Goh was a GREAT travel companion to Ash. They contrast each other nicely, have moments where they get on each others' nerves but still get along and have a mutual admiration for one another.
It was fun that they made Goh's thing catching every Pokémon (the motto of the entire series) so they could focus on Ash just training and prepping for Worlds.
Amaaaazing style. Took the great parts of classic Pokémon, roundness of SM and blended em together for a really fun look.
Black & White (S14-S16)
I don't think it's that controversial to have BW this low haha
I did enjoy Iris and Cilan but it felt like the writers didn't reaaally know what to do with them? Also this was their first time in a while not having Brock and it shows. I feel like Brock was successful because he was grounded and lower energy compared to the rest of the kids. Having 3 pretty eccentric characters is kind of a lot. No hate to the characters in the slightest, there was just not as much balance.
I think maybe they leaned on Cilan and Iris for more comedic relief because they killed the comedic relief that was Team Rocket this series. I appreciate them trying something new with Jessie, James and Meowth but I don't think it worked very well lol
XY (S17-S19)
I've ranted about this series a lot LOL. I get the appeal of it, but it just wasn't for me. I felt like it was the weakest comedy-wise and took itself a bit too seriously for my taste
My main gripe is that Serena, Clemont and Bonnie all like,,, worship Ash. By doing so, Ash begins to feel like a side character because we're constantly looking at Ash through their eyes. There's so little conflict within the group so their dynamics feel really flat. I think this dynamic could have worked if they leaned waaay more into Ash being a mentor and maybe feeling the pressure of having to be a role model for the people around him.
Team Rocket very much feels like an afterthought in this series. They did in Journeys as well, but at least in Journeys they were doing something silly and also had a handful of episodes dedicated to em.
Outside of that, the episodes weren't super memorable for me
I think it's just frustrating because there was sooooo much potential character-wise
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play-on-skinners-box · 8 months
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Others have already been furrying the Raincode characters and doing a phenomenal job, but when I would peruse Danganrompa fanart I really liked seeing different and wildly varying interpretations for the characters' animal choices and now it is my turn, my GOD GIVEN DUTY TO PROVIDE IN THE GENISIS OF THE RAINCODE FANDOM, FOR THE HONOR OF THOSE WHO HAVE COME BEFORE ME.
For all of them I used their pose from the artbook renders. I'll say it's to keep them recognizable but that is actually a lie I'm just lazy.
Secretary Bird Halara:
Halara I did first and they were the one I was most jazzed to do because I love them dearly. I made them a secretary bird and I think it's a PERFECT fit. Ahem allow me to rattle off. Secretary birds are birds, so doomed by the narrative to have to stay away from cats, they are predatory birds and of course Halara would be at the top of the food chain. Speaking of predetory birds, secretary birds are known for their ability TO KICK VENOUMOUS SNAKES TO DEATH, AND THATS JUST TOO GOOD A FIT. They also have plumage that I could easily shape into Halara's kinda smooth swoopy hairstyle, and face markings that could be sort of representative of their glasses! I think the drawing for them is probably the weakest out of the group just because as I went along I improved and started to translate the human designs in less one to one ways, plus the pose Halara has in the artbook doesn't fit perfectly to the really big wing hand things. I still enjoyed making it because H A L A R A N I G H T M A R E but I'm honestly kinda sad at how lackluster it is compared to Fubuki and Viva who got the most interesting details and texture work. NEVER DO YOUR FAVORITE FIRST IT'S A TRAP.
Guinea Pig Desuhiko:
With Desuhiko I was going back and fourth between a few rodents, I just think he kinda looks like one and already had those pikachu cheeks. My first scetch made him a hamster, and while it DID look like him, it felt a little too... Indistinct. Desuhiko's probably my favorite design in the cast just because he looks so distinctive and has a short stocky bodytype I really really love and makes my character designer brain happy, so I swapped hamster for guinea pig. While the guinea pig face doesn't look like him quite as much as the hamster, they are very interesting and distinctive looking which I loved a lot more even with a bit of accuracy sacrificed if that makes sense. Also there are Guinea pigs with spikey wild fur that make it so I could just kinda give him his actual hair and still have it make sense. Guinea pigs are also the perfect size and shape to be thrown like a large softball and out of all the Master Detectives Desuhiko looks like he'd be the most sadisfying to chuck across a room.
Fish Fubuki:
Fubuki was really hard just because it's difficult to anthropomorphize a fish in the same way as a mammal or a avian cause of their structure. She might look a biitttt more like a fantasy creature inspired by a fish than just a fish but she's charming enough I don't completely mind. I got some SOLID advice and looked at some Splatoon NPCs characteristics to try and make her more appealing. So why fish? I got it as a suggestion that I ended up really liking because fish are notorious for their bad memory, live in tanks their whole lives(Fubuki is the definition of sheltered), and they have fins to mimic the shape of Fubukis cloak and hair. I used beta fish for reference, they don't really fit her but just being a fish was good enough for me and at that point I was prioritizing looks. She doesn't even really look like any specific species like the other three to be honest. She's defiantly the outlier of the group but that's fine, she can be special in her own unique way like always. Got a little lazy with making the hair look all that fin-like, but it's kinda the main event of her human design so I wanted to keep it as true to that as possible but looking at it now I think its tooooo copy and paste looking. Her furry design IS my brothers favorite out of the batch so that's gotta count for something!
Flying Fox Bat Vivia:
The vampire looking man was always gonna be a bat, I am but a slave to the whims of fate. I made him specifically a flying fox because they're the largest bat species and therefore can loom ominously. Vampire bat would have been fun too, but they have more of a squished bastard energy that doesn't really fit Vivia. Bats also are known for their weird sleeping habits, ala upside. Viva isn't sleeping upside down or anything like that but he DOES snooze in some weird places so I think comparing him to a bat in multiple aspects is very apt! His drawing and animal design is probably my favorite, I really like the wings, and the bat feet are super weird I loved doing those. I did have trouble incorperating his hair, flying foxes have pretty smooth heads, but they do have sort of a mane thing going on so I tried to put some of his hair texture and shape there instead. Sorry I did not give him is edgy edgy hair cut, I too love it very much but it was simply not to be. I did try to mimic it's vibe with the patterning on his head though, an illusion of his bangs.
I'm very happy with this lineup overall, they're some neat little designs if I do say so myself! I might do more but I have the chronic problem of not being able to sit still for a long time to do a BUNTCH of guys again(though for the record I would make Seth the most delightfully storm drain gutter looking creature). I also kinda wanna do Makoto and Yuma cause someone suggested a REALLY good idea for them, but the concept for Makoto with this idea would be more of an involved design that I wouldn't be able to use all of his normal outfit for so it'd probably take longer than average.
TLDR: Furries amiright?
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hopeful-hugz · 3 months
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A Letter to My Greatest Creation
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My dearest Hope,
It's hard to believe that you're twenty-five now. Hard to believe either of us are in our mid-twenties really. It's kinda wild, huh?
My memory is absolute garbage, but even I still remember the day I thought you up. Back when you and I were still in first grade; your name was George back then and you were my only friend. Imaginary, but still my one and only anyways. We grew up together and eventually you went off on your own adventures... at least for a bit.
I was eleven when you came back home, and you were twelve. February twenty-fourth, twenty-eleven. I can't remember if we had just moved or were in the process of moving, but you came home as someone different. You called yourself Rose now and said you were a girl and we were perfectly okay with that. Again we'd become best friends and you stuck by me as disaster after disaster (at least for a preteen) hit over and over again.
Eventually you wanted to go on more adventures, but this time you didn't want to leave me. I had grown up past the capacity to create imaginary friends, so instead you became a character on paper. Thanks to my fixations at the time, you ended up a little MLP OC-slash-SI named Hopeful Hugz and I couldn't get enough of drawing you. Both in-person and on Miiverse for the... honestly decent following we had on the Youtube Community Tab.
Soon enough I found out about Tumblr and saw people making art on here and actually writing their characters. I wanted to do that with you. Though when we first made hopeful-hugz, it was a personal blog. I had no idea how to start sharing you until someone introduced me to the idea or writing instead of drawing. That's when RPing first started and you gained a human form.
Your story became one with Chamyle's for the first little while, until the two of you split off from each other. You became a blonde, one-eyed telekinetic who still went by Hopeful at the time. We still grew together, we still learned and became stronger. We found family, friends, and lost the same things.
When the purge of twenty-eighteen hit, you and the cast weren't the only ones devastated. I eventually lost my spark and stopped writing here and on my sideblogs. You went into hiding, grieving with the others. All of us fled to Discord for a little under a year...
Then late twenty-nineteen... We decided to give it another shot.
You came back with me as Hope. Just Hope. You brought with you my second greatest creation; the aethers and nagete. It was time we finally showed them to the world. You started rebuilding- we all did...
And now here we are.
We started here when we were sixteen and seventeen, now we're twenty-four and twenty-five. You've come such a long way since your beginnings and have grown so much in that time. You've become such a wonderful young woman and have blessed so many people. I couldn't be more proud of a creator.
I know there's still so much for us to do and adventures for you to go on. The multiverse only grows like we do, after all.
I love you so much, Hope Raymond. You're phenomenal, and I know you're gonna do fantastical things.
Thank you for everything, my dear. Lots of Love from Your Creator;
🥚~🤍
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mischiefandmedicine · 1 month
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Very Full - Chapter 10: Lay Me Down
Summary: Melara gains some perspective as her powers grow.
Word Count: 2,860 words.
Chapter Warnings: Kinda fluffy, kinda angsty.
Soundtrack Link
This Chapter's Music Inspiration:
Lay Me Down by Sam Smith featuring John Legend
Very Full MASTERLIST
Previous Chapter
A/N: As per usual, I just want to say that I do not own the rights to the lyrics. I did, however, imagine that Melara wrote this song, because the lyrics fit so perfectly into hers and Loki's story.
Let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist!
Months had passed since Melara’s poignant encounter with Loki in the dim light of the studio. The world outside her window had subtly shifted; the once-distant dream of a music career was now blossoming into a vivid reality. Gone was the time when she felt like just a karaoke bar and a shower singer. Now, the songs she had poured her heart into, born from the depths of her experiences and encounters with a certain god of stories, were now resonating with a wider audience than she had ever imagined.
The first hint of change came quietly, almost unnoticeably, with local independent radio stations playing tracks from her demo. Then, like a ripple expanding across a still pond, her music began to reach further shores. One song, in particular, a haunting melody that spoke of love and loss in equal measure, caught the attention of a national radio network. Its lyrics, imbued with the pain and beauty of her time with Loki, seemed to strike a chord with listeners, drawing them into her world.
Each day, Melara found herself navigating this new reality with wonder and apprehension. Her once-routine visits to the local coffee shop turned into impromptu meet-and-greets with fans who recognized her voice from the radio. Invitations to play at larger venues and interviews with music journalists became a regular part of her schedule. Her world, once confined to the four walls of her apartment and the small stages of local bars, was expanding in ways she had not dared to hope for.
Yet, amidst the whirlwind of her budding career, Melara could not shake off a sense of solitude. The growing life inside her was a constant reminder of her connection to Loki; one that was both a source of strength and a wellspring of longing. Each night, as she lay in bed, the faint stirrings of her unborn brought thoughts of him – thoughts that were a bittersweet reminiscence and aching absence all at once.
The apartment, once her sanctuary, now felt too large, too quiet. Even with frequent visits from her friends or her mother. The walls, adorned with framed lyrics and photographs from her performances, echoed with memories. She would look at each fondly, often studying the photographs in the hopes that she would catch a glimpse of Loki in the audience watching her. The lyrics though were like a vocal manifestation of their complicated relationship – so close, yet an entire universe apart.
As Melara navigated the unfolding chapters of this new life, one aspect that continually left her in quiet amazement was the warm embrace she received from the public, not just as a musician but as a soon-to-be mother. It was a blend of identities she had worried might clash but instead harmonized beautifully in the public eye.
Fans and critics alike seemed to celebrate her pregnancy, viewing it as a symbol of authentic life experience, enriching her music with layers of depth and emotion. The way her growing belly was received as part of her artistic image, rather than a hindrance to it, felt like a refreshing departure from the norms she had anticipated. Each performance, interview, and public appearance where her pregnancy was not just accepted but celebrated, bolstered her confidence. It was as if her personal journey of love, creativity, and impending motherhood resonated with an audience far broader than she ever imagined.
But as her due date drew nearer, the reality of her situation became more pressing. The nights were longer now, filled with a restless energy that kept her awake, her mind racing with plans and worries for the future.
During the day, she would often find herself staring out the window, lost in thought. The cityscape, with its bustling streets and towering buildings, seemed both familiar and alien. It was as if she were viewing the world from the other side of a veil – a part of it, yet separate, caught between the life she had known and the one that was unfolding before her.
In these quiet moments of reflection, Melara found herself thinking about Loki’s projection. At first, it had been a source of frustration, a painful reminder of what could not be. But as time passed, she felt a shift. The projection, with its silent presence and watchful eyes, had become a comforting ethereal presence that was her link to Loki. Even though he had promised to keep his distance, Melara continued to experience passing moments where she could sense his presence, but could not physically see him around.
As the autumn leaves began to fall, painting the city in hues of orange and red, Melara felt a change within herself. There was a growing sense of acceptance, a realization that while her life was taking an unexpected path, it was one she was ready to embrace. The music, the pregnancy, the connection with Loki – they were all threads in the tapestry of her life, each one essential to the pattern that was emerging.
And so, as the season turned and the chill of winter began to creep into the air, Melara prepared herself mentally for the next chapter of her story. This particular evening’s air was cool, carrying the scent of the approaching night as Melara stepped into her apartment, her feet and back aching from the long day. The rehearsal, a duet she had been practicing for weeks, had drained her more than usual. Her body, adapting to the growing life within her, demanded rest, a plea she could no longer ignore.
Melara moved through her home with a familiar ease, shedding the layers of the day. The apartment, once a quaint vessel for her modest aspirations, had transformed along with her life. Where there had once been space for her to dance and sing without restraint, there were now stacks of fan mail and gifts from admirers, as well as a crib in the corner gifted to her by her mother. Her coffee table, once cluttered with lyric sheets and old guitar picks, now held glossy magazines with her face on the cover. It was all so surreal, like living within a dream she had conjured in some distant, hopeful night.
Melara stood by the window, her hands wrapped around a steaming mug of tea, watching as the streets below filled with passersby on their way to dates, dinners, and errands. She sipped slowly, the warmth of the liquid doing little to ward off the chill that seemed to have settled in her bones. The lights dimmed, casting soft shadows against the walls, as her phone dinged with a message from the studio technician she had worked with for the day. Checking the screen, she noted the words from the technician as they flashed across her screen:
Today’s session was magical! I’ve attached a file of what we got.
In her sanctuary of solitude, Melara’s fingers danced across her phone, connecting it to the Bluetooth speaker. The living room, a witness to her solitary evenings and silent tearful reveries, now hummed to life with the first tender strokes of a piano. She cradled her belly as the melody rose like a gentle tide, flooding the space with its calming presence. And then she heard her voice. It sounded hushed, yet passionate as it told of every sentiment held within her heart.
Yes, I do, I believe, That one day we will be where I was, Right there, right next to you. And it’s hard, the days just seem so dark. The moon, and the stars are nothing without you. Your touch, your skin, where do I begin? No words can explain the way I’m missing you. Deny this emptiness, This hole that I’m inside. These tears, they tell their own story. Told me not to cry when you were gone, But the feeling’s overwhelming, it’s much too strong. Can I lay by your side? Next to you? You. And make sure you’re alright. I’ll take care of you. You. I don’t want to be here if I can’t be with you tonight.
As the notes swirled around her, her eyelids grew heavy. A strange sensation, like a gentle tide pulling her under, overtook her. This was no ordinary fatigue; it felt as though the very essence of her being was being drawn into a realm beyond the confines of her apartment, beyond the constraints of time and space. While she lay there, it was not the voice of her song partner she heard, she pictured Loki on his throne projecting the next verse in her mind.
I’m reaching out to you, Can you hear my call? This hurt I have been through, I’m missing you. I’m missing you like crazy.
In the depths of her slumber, Melara found herself standing at the edge of infinity in a music-fueled haze. A vast, star-studded expanse stretched out before her, a cosmic ocean sparkling with the light of a billion distant suns. And there, amidst the celestial beauty, was Loki’s throne, a construct of unimaginable majesty and solitude.
The throne, a masterpiece as if wrought from the cosmic dust of bygone nebulas, perched regally upon a dais that commanded a view of the celestial infinity. There, enthroned in majesty, was Loki, the aura of his godhood undimmed by the eons. His eyes, those deep wells of enigma, once more held the starlit dance of the universe’s deepest secrets. Yet, in the gaze of Melara’s approach, the sharpness that so often underpinned his gaze melted into a tender warmth, a silently shocked recognition of her presence in this place beyond the march of time.
Melara stepped forward, her heart pounding in her chest. The air around them was alive with the whispers of the ages, voices of the past and future mingling in a symphony of eternity.
“Loki,” she whispered, her voice echoing in the void.
“Melara,” he replied, rising from his throne. His form, both imposing and graceful, moved towards her with a fluidity that defied imagination. “H-…how are you here?”
She reached out, her hand trembling as it met his. The contact was electric, a current of connection that transcended the timelines themselves. “I-…I don’t understand. Is this real?”
His hand cupped her face, moving to rest gently on her belly, and in that moment, a warmth spread through her, a sensation so real and profound that it bridged the gap between their present circumstances. Loki at the end of time and Melara resting on her timeline, yet somehow impossibly projecting herself outside reality as she knew it. She could feel his presence, his concern, his love. It was as if the very essence of her being was reaching out to him across the expanse of time and space.
“What is real anyway?” Loki said with a grin.
Melara looked down at Loki’s hand connected with her rounded abdomen wide-eyed with a gasp. “Loki,” she began, her voice laced with wonder and awe. “I can feel you. Like, I can really feel your touch. This isn’t a dream, is it?”
“No, ‘Lara,” he replied, his voice a blend of warmth and sadness. “You seem to have blurred the boundaries of the possible. We are both as real as the heart beating in your chest. The warmth of your skin.”
Tears welled in her eyes as the emotional weight of his words sank in. “How?! It’s so…real.” she rasped, emotion stealing her voice.
Loki brushed the hair from her face. “I just don’t know,” he said, shaking his head as if to wrack his brain for some explanation as to how a human being might have conjured this level of a projection without training. “It seems you had to experience it for yourself to understand.”
“I’ve missed you,” she smiled softly, her voice just as tender. “I’ve missed…us. I feel like I have been wrong…all wrong…about everything. I’m so sorry.”
They shared a warm embrace, both terrified to utter a word, lest it change the reality that existed before their eyes. As they stood there, at the very edge of eternity, Melara felt a peace she hadn’t known in months. The worries of her waking life, the uncertainty of her pregnancy, the loneliness of her success – it all faded into the background as she basked in the glow of their connection.
But as all dreams must, this one too began to fade. The stars flickered and dimmed as Melara felt as though she were falling. The grandeur of Loki and his throne at the end of time blurred into the soft darkness of sleep. As she faded out of Loki’s view she managed to reach out and speak the words, “Come find me.”
Melara awoke with a start, her body heavy and her mind foggy. The room was quiet and dark, the song having long since finished playing. She felt a dull ache in her bones, a physical reminder of the profound experience she had just lived through. The implications of the experience hit her all at once. As the realization came through to her conscious mind, Melara noticed a familiar face standing over her, smiling fondly. It was Loki.
***
“So fucking help me, Loki, do not…,” Saoirse warned.
Loki laughed. “I will spare you the details.”
***
The days that followed were a haze of exhaustion and recovery. Melara was pale, her movements slow and deliberate. Sleep came easily, but it was a deep, consuming slumber that left her feeling though as she were recovering from a great exertion. She spent those days wrapped in the arms of Loki’s avatar, fully understanding the strength it took for Loki to be present for her.
But as the cycle of seasons continued to turn and the birth drew near, a discernible change had woven itself into Melara’s very being. The vivacity that once danced in her eyes, the same spark that had captured Loki’s attention amidst the chaos of realms, had dimmed to a mere flicker. Her once robust strength, which had carried her voice to the heights of auditoriums and the intimacy of dimly lit bars, seemed to have been siphoned away, leaving her countenance hauntingly gray and her movements listless.
In the quiet moments, when the world slipped into slumber and left Melara alone with her thoughts, she could feel the vigor that had pulsed through her veins like a relentless river now trickling away to a sluggish stream. She looked upon her reflection, tracing the contours of her face, searching for the woman she recognized – the woman who had stood defiant and radiant before a god and mortals alike.
But the reflection that stared back at her was a shadow, a shell of the once fiery spirit that had drawn stories from the lips of Loki himself. This weary body housed a tiredness that seemed to reach into the marrow of her bones, a fatigue that whispered of more than just the physical toll of carrying a new life. Aware of the looming demands of new parenthood, Melara urged Loki to rest while she slept, echoing the precautions he was taking at the time she first learned his presence was only a projection.
As Saoirse Freyja Runa Lokisdottir made her entrance into the world, a new life forged from the old, it was not just the sleepless nights or the demands of motherhood that weighed heavily upon Melara. It was as if the very core that bound her to the earth and to the stars was slipping through her fingers. The connection to Loki, once a vibrant thread of gold in now felt like a gossamer strand, fragile and prone to breaking.
It was not lost on Melara that the timing of her decline had coincided with the burgeoning of her music career and the life that had grown within her. The songs that echoed on the airwaves, the verses that spoke of love eternal and hearts entwined, seemed to draw from her an unseen price – as if each note had carried away a piece of her soul.
There was a bittersweet irony that in giving life to her daughter and her music, she felt life ebbing from her. And in the depths of her heart, where fear and bravery waged a silent war, Melara wondered if the magic that had once seemed to bless her was, in truth, a curse in disguise, a star burning too brightly, destined to fade.
Even Loki, with his eyes that saw beyond horizons, watched helplessly, his projection a watchman to the unfolding tragedy. The woman who had burned so brilliantly, who had held the chaos of his nature in her steady gaze, was retreating inward, her light withdrawing into some secret, guarded place he could not follow.
It was a cruel twist of fate that as Saoirse’s life began with all the promise of dawn’s first light, Melara’s seemed to be approaching an untimely dusk. And all who watched from near and far, held their breath, waiting to see if the morrow would bring rebirth or the quiet close of a chapter that had only just begun. Little did anyone know that the future was to get brighter in ways that no one expected.
--- Tags: @mischief2sarawr
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thyandrawrites · 1 year
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Dabi's dance
I'm losing my mind. The episode was SO GOOD. Have some scattered thoughts and reactions (spoiler-heavy stuff under the cut):
I had full faith that Shimono would do a stellar job with his voice acting but his performance went above and beyond my expectations. He gave me literal chills. The range of emotions he managed to fit into Dabi's lines? *chef kiss* The way he kept jumping between maddened elation and sadness, between righteous despair and chilling fury?? Stunning. Spectacular.
I think my favourite part was when he said "Why didn't you notice I was your son?" and managed to inject that simple line with contempt, hurt and disappointment at the same time. Incredible
Second best part was when Dabi went from yelling "You don't know anything, so let me break it to you" with seething rage and frustration to the chilling way he uttered the line right after, "You can never get away from your past". HHHHHHHHHH I think I lost my mind there. It was SO GOOD. The shift from frenzied anger to that ice-cold voice, coupled with the punch of that line gives you whiplash in the best possible way, and perfectly encapsulates the range of Dabi's emotions there. He's spiralling, yes, but he's not spouting nonsense because he's "crazy". He's furious because Enji thought he could move on without him, move on from Touya.
The close-up to his despairing pose when he says "I wanted to make you happy," a hand clutching his head and gripping his hair like when he was a kid, and his voice going all soft and kinda self-deprecatory... CHILLS
On a completely different note, the special hair dye remover changing Dabi's hair color like a magical girl transformation made me laugh. On behalf of the moon, he will punish you and send you into a flaming hell
THE DANCING. Okay, this one was a surprise. I went into the ep with 0 expectations for the actual dancing bit, having no idea how they would animate it and fearing a shitty adaptation, but I really liked what they did. His moves are exactly as awkward and frenzied as I expected them to be when I read the manga, but I feel like the anime better conveys Dabi's mental state through the whole thing (as it's supposed to, being a fluid visual media that conveys movement better than any stills ever could). Overall, his "dance" gave me the feeling of a puppet that got its strings abruptly cut off and moved like a broken toy. It wasn't a victory dance and it wasn't supposed to. The anime made it clear it was just Dabi working through his adrenaline. The first moves, the clapping, the arms moving wildly around with no clear pattern, the broad sweeping gestures, the way he seemingly doesn't know what to do with his limbs... it was the perfect depiction of Dabi letting out the energy building up under his skin, the same energy that draws on his emotions. He was drunk on a cocktail of conflicting feelings and his "dance" was a great visual way of showing that
Baby Touya was so small and precious TT_TT I felt my heart breaking for him all over again, and all the little glimpses we got crushed my soul. The card in the ending was a special low blow
Infant Touya struggling to stand on his tiny toddler feet *bawls*
Fuyumi and the flower... cries... now if only all of Bones' additions were good content like this...
Natsuo watching the broadcast on his phone... idk why but that scene punched me in the chest harder than it did when I read the manga. I'm gonna go cry
Fuyumi having colleagues right there with her as she watched too... another addition but I liked the detail of the guy looking worriedly at her instead of the screen
I'm not super thrilled that they added the still of Dabi looking like this:
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at this point of the story, because the original panel comes from much later, and it's supposed to depict Dabi from Enji's distorted POV, the way he pictures him in his memories. But I'm so happy about the whole ep that I'm gonna let this slide. Dabi should look a bit unhinged. It's his best flavor after all
Man, Endvr's fanboy is just as annoying as I remembered. "His lies won't shake our faith in our hero" WELL MAYBE THEY SHOULD. MAYBE PEOPLE LIKE YOU ARE EXACTLY THE KIND OF PEOPLE DABI'S CALLING OUT. Wouldn't that be crazy
Ha! they didn't show Hawks slicing Twice's back open, lol. Just a still. But hey, they had to keep it pg I guess. Let it not be said that Dabi doesn't think of the children /j
Kaji (Shouto's VA) also did an incredible job. The sheer panic in Shouto's voice when Dabi was plummeting towards them gave me chills. My boy was SCARED and CONFUSED and barely keeping his shit together himself and my heart broke for him. Now I'm really looking forward to his performance (and Shimono's) in the next ep, knowing what's coming
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hollowknightinsanity · 8 months
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ok let’s try this again shall we? *grabs my internet* you’d better fucking work this time or i swear to whatever god you pray to i am going to rip you in half.
*scrambles out of The Pit, shaking uncontrollably* DONE!!!! ITS DONE
*SLAMS THIS ON THE TABLE*
HOLLY REF SHEET.
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my babygirl. my darling. my beloved. prettiest bug in hallownest.
i would’ve added their shade, nail, and random doodles, but i was eepy… and i hit my 40-layer limit like 3 times. that’s what i get for working on such an unnecessarily bigass canvas
hex codes and rambles under the cut <3 (cw: i talk about self harm when i bring up their scars)
also ignore the fact that i left the silly little meme face in the ref. i dont feel like getting rid of it
#0f0f0f (skin/hair) — #1d1d1d (scars) — #c4a0a5 (inside of their ears) — # edebea (shell/healthy leaves) — #9abfa7 (healthy leaves) — #5e5e5e (shell damage) — #3e332f (prosthetic) — #292c53 (cloak) — #eeded5 (cloak fluff/inside of their cloak) — #e5e5ee (silk wraps) — #192030 (eye base) — #d5e2ff (pupil) — #000000 (blood) — #160828 (blood/soul) — #ffc171 (fixed crack) — #ceffdf (new leaves) — #a9a8a6 (wilting leaves) — #666e68 (wilting leaves)
yeh they have a TAIL now!!!! with LEAVES!!!!!!! their mom’s genetics :)))
the leaves are VERY poisonous to any species except their own and rootkin (aka wl’s species). like most plants, they need sunlight to grow, and if they got enough, holly would have leaves growing from their horns too!!! but they stay underground most of the time, so they only have leaves on their tail.
they got a lot of their mom’s genetics. the leaves, the long ass tail, the height, the rounder face, the eyes, the fluffiness, all inherited from wl.
hornet made their cloak a few days after they escaped the black egg. she saw how fucking RAGGED their old cloak was (the damn thing was torn to shreds and COVERED in blood), and she was like “damn, i need to make them a new cloak.” so she did that.
she had holly pick the fabrics. they like blue, and the faux-fur they found was SO fucking warm they just had to pick it.
and their silk wraps are indeed made of weaver silk, also courtesy of hornet. she’s a great little sister btw
almost all their scars happened after the seals faded. the only one that appeared prior to that was the crack on their face.
their arm was fucked up and destroyed by the infection (y’know, cysts growing everywhere and all that), and the only thing keeping it attached to holly’s body were the seals, so after they faded, it kinda just… fell off.
the stab wounds in their abdomen and chest are from them stabbing the shit out of themself thinking radi was still inside them. they has enough adrenaline in them to move around, so they attempted to evict her already deceased ass in the worst way possible. after that little show, they stopped being able to move for a few days, until they eventually crawled out of the black egg and scared the ever-loving fuck out of hornet who thought they were dead.
their blood is a mix of void and their soul, which is purple!
i wrote a whole thing about soul colours and their meanings back in 2019 or 2020, so its rlly old and i only have vague memories of what’s in it, but i do remember writing that people with purple souls are generally quieter and stricter, but generally are nice unless you piss them off. that description fits holly absolutely perfectly, so they have a purple soul now.
also, fun fact: holly needs a cane to walk sometimes. being chained up and suspended in the air, completely unable to move for 60 years really does something to ya.
fuck, now i need to draw their cane too.
theyre really old in the main au, btw. theyre 79. ancient ass. unlike their branch-off au counterparts, who are both in their early 30s.
ok that’s all *falls back into The Pit, still shaking uncontrollably*
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candied-boys · 7 months
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Luke's POV x F! Reader - Part 6
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Warning: Dark Content!
Including but not limited to references to prostitution, child neglect and abuse, war and death, PTSD, flashbacks, nightmares, suicidal ideation, and historically accurate ages for relations. The dark content is almost entirely drawn from/same as Luke's route.
Themes: protection, hurt and comfort, mutual healing, learning to trust, letting yourself feel, and eventually giving into love. Everything is written from Luke's POV.
Part 5
“His nose looks funny,” her soft giggle interrupts the crackle and spark of the fire.
Under the bright light it casts, she holds up her bear to compare with your own.
“Kinda looks like somebody took a nibble off it, huh? If y’ thread over this top edge of the triangle here again and straighten it out, he'll look just fine,” you explain and show her where to stitch.
Perched in your lap on the floor in front of the hearth, she loops the black thread through again while you watch from where you rest your chin on her shoulder. Your arms lay wrapped loosely around her waist now that she's nearly finished. The last few hours you had been holding her hands or the fabric or the needle while you taught her how to make a stuffed bear.
You cut out the pattern for her, then made each piece together. You made an arm, then she tried the same, and so on until you got to the head. Making it perfectly round isn't easy, but you didn't want to take over. Instead you took her hands in yours until she got a feel for turning the fabric as she sewed so that the bear wouldn't end up with square cheeks.
“How's that?” she chirps, clearly proud of her improvement.
“Y're a natural. All that's left to stitch are the eyes.”
That hesitant pout you're so familiar with now is enough to tell you she wants you to do them for her, but you still coax her into speaking her mind.
“What's that face, hmm? Gettin’ tired?”
Her brows furrow a little as she shakes her head, staring intently down at the creature in her hands.
“Wanna do somethin' else?”
This time she turns to meet your gaze, her bottom lip poking out even more before she mumbles, “He'll look silly if I don't get the eyes right… They're the most important part…”
“Well, y’ could make him a lazy bear and give him sleepy eyes? I'm sure y’ could do that real easy.”
When she doesn't answer, you ruffle her hair.
“Y’ want me to do it, don't y’?”
The way she brightens instantly and hands you the bear with a smile makes it impossible to be strict with her.
“A’right. A’right. Give him here.”
Now it's her turn to watch as you carefully draw the needle and thread through the soft fabric, shortening your stitches bit by bit to make a perfect half-circle before finishing the opposite half the same way.
“You're so talented, Luke,” she breathes as you start on the other eye.
“Nah, I've just done it a hundred times now. Y'll get good with practice too.”
“A hundred…? Where did all those bears go?”
Her pretty eyes glitter with confusion in the firelight as she looks up at you, but you can't bring yourself to meet her gaze as you continue sewing. Perhaps you should've said you gave them all away to orphans or some shit because the longer you stay silent the more you can feel her tense in your arms.
“Luke…?”
Ducking out of sight, you rest your forehead on her shoulder and wait for the angry tears you're choking back to pass.
“Are they with Leyla?” she asks softly.
You barely manage a nod, and she asks no more. Instead she wriggles out of your hold to face you and wraps her arms around your neck, soothing the ache in your throat as her hands run through your hair over and over.
The unfinished bear falls to the floor, your arms cinching around her back. Face buried in the crook of her neck, you find your own tongue betrays you as everything pours forth unbidden.
“I make them to keep her alive… Each one holds a different memory we shared together... Every couple of months I take them back to Espoir — back to the house I rebuilt. I've lost count of how many I've sewn her now… but I remember every single moment I associated with each bear while working on it…”
“That must make Leyla very happy,” she murmurs, her round cheek pressing against your crown.
Honey means well. Her voice is full of tenderness. But maybe that's exactly why it draws out the sobs you've been fighting back.
I know she's gone.
I know my love can't reach her anymore.
I know she isn't happy.
I know she doesn't see me tryin' to keep her alive.
She hasn't received any of the letters I've written over the last ten years.
She doesn't hear the whispered promises.
She doesn't share this longing to be together again.
She doesn't even remember me...
Because she's just not here anymore.
But without this lie, you could never keep going. You have to believe that your memory is enough to keep you two connected. If you don't, you can't hope to survive long enough to take revenge.
So you lie to yourself.
Every moment of every day.
Struggling to breathe, you recount as many scenes as you can until you calm down. Like hypnotizing yourself into believing, you walk through each vivid memory over and over until they feel real again. This has become a ritual for you over the years; the only way you know how to cope with the overwhelming distress of reality.
“Maybe you should go visit her. You haven't been in a while because of me, right?”
When you only shake your head and nuzzle further into her warm embrace she tries again, “I'll be okay by myself for a few days. If you're still worried about my safety, I promise I'll stay inside while you're gone.”
“That's not it…”
It's hardly more than a breath, but she always hears you.
“I don't wanna…”
The pop and crumple of blackened logs collapsing into embers fills the gap while you try to talk yourself out of this. But like so many times since she arrived, you can't seem to stop yourself from unlocking the shackles you've kept on your heart — even against your better judgement.
“Go by myself…”
But I don't wanna take y’ there — to where y’ lost everything…
Especially not for me — just because I'm scared I'll give in and never come back…
She leans away and you reluctantly take the cue to seek those achingly gentle eyes. The moment you find them, your heart slips past your lips, “Maybe… it’d make her happy… wherever she is now… If she were here, I'd introduce y’ two. Leyla would love y’…”
“Would that make you happy, Luke?”
The subtle curve of her cheeks further softens her gaze and your trepidation with it, coaxing out an honest nod.
Part 7
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polycharismas · 2 months
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oakay Hey haunt what is an ''iohse' ^_^?
KILLS MYSELF SO VIOLENTLY IN FRONT OF YOU sorry . sorry . so . iohse is a ship . composed of iori motohashi and ohse minato . the charisma of obedience and the charisma of self-punishment respectively . you would Think the self deprecating nature of their charismas would make them besties but as it turns out its quite the contrary . they hate each other . they have very similar views of themselves but they go about them in ways so different it makes the other mad . i think thats quite hilarious . the hate these two have for each other i think transcends any of the other dynamics inside the house and i think this is also the part that makes me so crazy about them as a Couple . can you imagine the millions of trials they would have to go through to fully get to understand the other . you know . the one thing required in a relationship . isnt it crazy to think about how they would even get feelings for one another . do you think they would feel guilty . because in a way loving someone goes against their different but still quite similar values about themselves and others . isnt it beautiful to think about how despite it all they would still be able to confess to each other . despite the pain the heartbreak the agony it surely made them feel . because im sure it hurt i know because the one true love is the one that hurts the most to experience but at the same time its always the most rewarding when you come to terms with everything that loving someone else carries . i think they would be hesitant about affection at first but very slowly start warming up to it . i think ohse cried the first time iori called him a petname . i dont want to think about petnames they would call each other because i legitimately would start sobbing . i think once ohse gets used to it he can end up being the most romantic of the two of them by complete accident . i think its kinda cute to think about the guy with the most self deprecating issues to love others at such deep levels . he does that with the other charismas of fucking course but the way he ends up doing it with iori is just so different . such warmth coming from someone who has felt cold and alone for the longest time . isnt that beautiful . it would still take iori a while until he got to that point but he still felt so happy when ohse finally started to express it more . i think ohse drew iori a whole bunch of times purely by memory when they werent together but after they did he tried to draw iori once again but while having iori as a model . i think it would be an specially nice thing for them both to do together . just peacefulness . just the sound of ohse's various art tools while painting the one reason he looks at life so brightly now . iori smiling to himself when realizing how much ohse is concentrated on perfectly portraying the beauty he sees in iori . perhaps even iori getting worried when ohse looks specially frustrated and then comforting him . isnt that a beautiful thought to have . i think they suck . i think they suck so bad . guy that dont play about the ship from the most mid media project of all time . what fucking even ever .
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darkmagicart · 9 months
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I hope this is okay to ask or isn't too weird. I was wondering some things about the way you do art, cause I kinda started drawing stuff again. I am still not too experienced, so I guess I am wondering if what I experience is normal
Do you often have to look at a reference to draw what you want to draw?
Are you able to draw directly from your mind's eye?
Or maybe memory of how the movements go or something?
I've kinda only been trying to copy something I see in front of me. Like, a photo or a screenshot from anime.
I'm a bit scared to try to draw something without having something to look at to compare it to, but I don't know how normal that is.
I feel like drawing just from your mind's eye would be hard
Have you done it before or do it a lot? Or drawn stuff with no reference?
Is drawing from your mind's eye something that gets easier over time?
Thank you in advance if you choose to answer!
Hey there!
I’m actually very happy to receive this ask and will gladly answer!
I’m proud of you for taking the path to art again. It can be challenging, I’d know of.
Let me start with this. There’s nothing wrong with looking at a reference when drawing something. Actually, it’s quite helpful not only to show you how a certain thing should look like/be posed but also you get to learn from it. Let’s say anatomy. There’s no way you can draw a body without references at all unless you’ve already got experience beforehand. But to gain experience you’d likely look up references of let’s say arms, legs, torso, etc, and study every angle and curve to get it right.
Let me share my experience with references.
I have drawn from my imagination and memory and I’ve also used references. And I’ve always done some fun little things that help me with the positions I’m going for. For example, I find hands to be the most difficult to draw. Kagami, you’re amazing at it. And here’s this, a good portion of the hands in my art that you see are drawn by using a reference of my own hands. I take photos in the mirror as I pose my hands, making them look as dramatic as possible if I need to. And then I kind of play with my art, see if it matches what I’m going for. Other times, if I am not feeling like going full Seto Kaiba with my hands in the mirror I look up hand and arm poses to get inspiration from. Photos of real people help too.
And, of course, I always have at least one official art of the character to look at as I draw. At times I forget to draw certain details if I go by memory.
Today for example I had trouble with distance proportions. So, I do happen to get frustrated when things don’t look right to me. You are your own worst critic. I have Body-kun, a grey figurine that I can pose. It’s specially made to help with poses. I believe it could aid with full-body poses. Just to help you visualize them and that way you don’t have to rely just on your imagination and references. And also because you may not find references that exactly fit what you’re imagining.
Drawing from your mind’s eye does get easier over time as you keep practicing. You will naturally know what looks right and what doesn’t. But don’t worry if you struggle with it. Every artist ever has gone through that path. You don’t have to draw everything perfectly from scratch. Take it as a fun challenge. Let’s see how this will turn out as. It might not be exactly how you envisioned it but that’s okay. You made the effort. As you keep practicing you will notice your improvement. And give yourself praise for how far you’ve come.
I hope this helps you! If you have any more questions feel free to ask.
Have lots of fun drawing!
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nonbinarv · 9 months
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📃💔🍀 ^^
📃 - lu is a webcomic alternate universe of loz! it started off as a series of drawings the creator did to differentiate the different links of the games and kinda spiraled from there into a links-meet, and that started as different drawings which then culminated into a storyline. so far: each link found a dark portal in their own eras and, in typical link fashion, chose to enter it. cue meeting with 8 others for an unclear purpose and just kinda vibing for probably around a few months. stuff happens in the form of black-blooded monsters that are more powerful than regular ones, monsters appearing in the wrong eras, and a mysterious creature called the shadow. it's the best lead our heroes have, especially after watching it create one of the same dark portals that they went through to meet up in the first place, so they decide to follow it.
the new era is an odd one because there are no heroes. there haven't been any great disasters that needed saving, and anything we are able to get from people, they dismiss stuff like the triforce and demon king as myths. so that's unusual for all considering. you know. all the firsthand experience with that sorta stuff- anyways from there another encounter with the shadow leads to its shapeshifting capabilities being displayed, as it goes from a lizalfos to an iron knuckle. in this new form, it attacks twilight, whose so heavily wounded that he believes he's going to die. this leads to turmoil within the group, multiple bouts of infighting (four after a confrontation with wild, then four and wind against legend in an argument about the master sword), and general emotional turmoil. but twi heals! he gets better. the last main story update left off with sibling bonding moments, everyone being very relieved about twi being okay and saying that they can't lose a single one of them- things still being broken a bit with all the tension from before but on the mend, displayed by four holding a (shattered) sword they had made for wild and saying "i've got to fix something. i think this is a start." right now it's at a relatively happy part ^w^ still a lot of plot left but it's been really strong and impactful so far
💔 - okay so. i don't have a least favorite in the chain. most of the side characters i don't dislike. even the shadow (most likely dark) who almost killed twi i'd be okay with an eventual redemption arc perhaps (not that i think there's gonna be one or not, i'm just side glance at shadow fsa here). so it was kind of hard picking a least favorite.
however. it actually wasn't because there is one. this bastard likelike. zel won us that shield!!! she could have gone with either of the other prizes but instead she chooses the tiny shield because she thinks it's adorable and "doesn't this shield suit you perfectly?" at us and. this motherfucker tries to eat it. yeah it's easy to get your stuff back but not allowed that's our stuff the stuff zel got especially for us ;-;
🍀 - i kin red from lu!!! in loz terms this equates to 5 whole people actually since lu consolidated hero of men, minish cap link, and the 3(/12) heroes of the four sword into one guy (four). even then though i feel no connection with the hero of men (i don't have red memories but based purely on the vibes and how right things feel one way or another the hero of men was our predecessor whose story we loved as a kid and then perceived in a different light when we were older and after going through the whole hero thing ourselves). i also feel pretty distanced from fs red versus fsa red but that's most likely just because fsa is a lot more developed than fs i feel in terms of plot stuff (even excluding the manga which adds actual differences between each besides voice pitch). so in loz terms i mainly id with minish cap link and fsa red (plus palace of the four sword from a link to the past but that's another story). and for comfort characters… the whole chain from lu of course, smith and ezlo and zeffa from mc, zelda from mc and fsa, and shadow from fsa ^w^ vaati too to a certain extent- he brings me joy but also it's like. bastard in the affectionate sense with turning zel into stone and everything y'know
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Oh my ajdhah, may I try a matchup??
I'm a bisexual Greek girl (INFP) who loves to draw and play video games a lot! I can get into anything I like easily and even try to gather information about it as much as I can. I'm usually friendly and easy to get along with but I do have my moments where I might be kinda rude oof.
My humour is BROKEN and I WILL laugh at a lot of stuff. I tend to shower the people I like in love and give them gifts I think they'll like and offer support and encouragement. When I'm with someone I like, I tend to talk A LOT but I do have my moments where I want to spend a few hours alone to recharge my social energy (affection is still allowed yessiiiiir). I'm usually awkward and shy with someone new but once you get to know me, I'll be chaotic lmfao.
I have a very BIG imagination to the point where I feel the urge to walk around my room and imagining cool scenes in my head as I walk around and pretend I'm there as well (I'm also exercising sometimes and my school phycologist told me I might ADHD so I'm trying to get an appointment to get diagnosed!) and I tend to think about the good memories from my past and how much I miss those days. I tend to look up old shows or games I used to play and feel so nostalgic~ I even think about or go to places I used to go as a child and just stand there and think as I look around me. I tend to get emotional a lot, even at stuff like this smsm
I love animals so much and I have a cat that I will literally DIE for, he was there when I had absolutely no one and he means so much to me. I tend to shower him in affection and just hold him and even fangirl about him nearly everytime I see him smandhwj- I do that with other animals as well because they are so cool and cute!!
Sometimes my mood goes to the point where I sometimes don't think twice about the thing I'm about to say because I'm feeling intense emotions but if I hurt someone, I want to make it up to them and apologize. I'm open to communication and I'm willing to discuss a loooot of things about anything, at this point.
I'm also quite competitive and I like to challenge myself (but still have fun!!) to a lot of things! It gets me excited when I go face-to-face with my friends and sometimes other people on games and more or just completing something that looks very challenging to a lot of people! I also have anger issues which I'm trying to control skdjwhs
I also tend to be weird and do a lot of shit that other people don't really do but I usually don't mind if other's can't understand lol
I match you with...
Seven!
You're generally the kind of person that enjoys getting along with everybody. You're passionate. The type of person that could get easily carried away with anything that's on your mind. That means that not everybody understands you or gets why you do things you do. That's why when you make a bond with somebody, you know that you have to trust them to understand you in a way that nobody else has. Sometimes it feels like people are judging you for things that you can't control and it feels as though you might never find somebody who looks at you the way that you would look at them. An oddball like you need somebody that understands what it feels like to be on the outside looking in even if you're supposed to be on the inside.
Isn't that why you work perfectly with Saeyoung in the first place?
Because he is the kind of person that's on the outside looking in no matter what he does. He never imagined that he would be able to come inside and join everybody else. He always imagined that he would always be five steps away from the thing that he wanted. Even if it wasn't fair, he knew that his sacrifices were worth it. The one is with you, that's when he wants to choose to be selfish and explore the things that he told himself that he could never have. If he wants to allow himself to hear you talking all night long about something that you love, or pushing him to try something different for once. With you, he finds a rival that he's in love with who can push him to the limit of what he wants to be.
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danpuff-ao3 · 1 year
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The Making of: The Perfect Tree
You know...my memories of how The Perfect Tree came to be aren't as clear as I wish they were. It was a haze of shippy delight and holiday spirit. It was a rush of endorphins. It was the magnetic draw to my keyboard.
It was...NaNoWriMo 2020.
Neville/Percy is a rare pair I genuinely need more of. My first experience of this ship was in faint indirections. I was definitely drawn in by the Snarry tag, but stayed for the Perceville! Their sweet, awkward romance spoke to me.
Alas: they are super rare. I tore through all I could find. I reread the ones I loved most. I pouted in the lack. I screamed into my pillow because why doesn't anyone else love them as much as I do????
It wasn't right away that I decided to write it. Come on. Who wants to do the work themselves? I wanted it provided to me!
Besides: I have enough to write, don't I??
Then: NaNoWriMo 2020. I went "rogue" again that year, opting to throw 50k into various projects. I wrote Romantic Notions that month (a Neville centric fic) and...maybe that's where it began. It wasn't a direct jump from Romantic Notions to The Perfect Tree, but some bit of Neville-love remained lodged in my brain.
I still had words to write. Days left in November to go. Neville was on my noggin'. And I did have a great love for Neville/Percy. Maybe I should write one, after all! Even better because writing different ships means other opportunities to push my background Snarry agenda! And...with the holidays coming up...and my great love of the holidays...
I really love Christmas trees. Neville loves plants. I religiously hate-watch Hallmark movies. (No offense to Hallmark lovers, but it's mega fun to watch them and text my Bestie about how trash they are, while also secretly enjoying them. But just a smidgeon.) It all sort of fell together. Easy as pie!
Neville having a tree lot? How fun! Holiday in Hogsmeade? What a dream! Sweet awkward romance? Sign me up! Background Snarry? Hallelujah!
Truly, it was such a joy to write. Work was slow (this was 2020, after all.) (We were essential, but our workload dropped a lot.) I typed this baby up in Google Docs on my work computer. Copy-pasted into Scrivener at the end of the day. (The opposite of how that usually goes!) All 9k words written in only a few days, I believe.
I have so much love for Neville and for Percy. I love Neville being a bit shy and insecure. I love Percy being so strict and pompous. I love how skilled they both are, and how they can respect one another. And the more lighthearted vibe was a nice change of pace from my usual angsting! I threw in all of my headcanons and feelings about both characters, and their relationship, into this story. And I indulged a bit with my background Snarry! A special holiday treat, just for me!
And I loved it so much, I played around in the same world some more: The Christmas Prince (fleshing out the Snarry side of the story) and Holidate (less direct involvement, but still related! Dron + Ginsy in this one!) I wrote them all back to back, that's how attached to this little universe I was! I even edited and posted The first two before NaNoWriMo was even done! (Perfectly good writing days wasted on edits! Tsk tsk, self.)
Anyway, it's a bit odd to realize that my ultimate Perceville fic is a holiday fic, and part of a series. Don't ask why, my Brain is just weird. But recently I was thinking of how Contempt is my ultimate Snarry feels fic, and Collateral Damage is my ultimate Dron feels fic. And thinking of how I needed to write more "perfect fics" for each of my ships. And eventually realizing I'd already done one for Perceville. (Also kinda funny how it is related to Snarry and Dron fics, just not the big Snarry and Dron fics!)
Okay enough babbling. I don't have a good way to wrap this one up so GOODBYE I LOVE YOU GUYS THANKS FOR READING MY SILLY THOUGHTS.
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aikirooooo · 2 years
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This week was physically draining. I haven’t been sleeping well or getting any exercise. Plus I picked up a vape again like a dumbass. Tbh vaping around my friends makes me pick up the habit again. I should stop hitting their vapes when I’m around them like Thomas lol.
Anyway, Lately, I’ve only been drawing for school right now which is fine, and it’s actually putting me on my ass but I love it. However, today I drew something after smoking a joint and taking a walk. Sometimes when I’m bored out of my mind (or being really unproductive), I would walk around the neighborhood around midnight and just ponder on stuff. I was struggling making a good portrait but I didn’t want to stop trying. I was attempting to apply what I know from the stuff I learned from class especially drawing heads.
Also I binged the shit out of Midnight Mass. Overall it’s good, but the writing kinda sucks in the middle lol. Sharif had this long ass monologue just to explain why a muslim shouldn’t pry into a catholic congregation that is passive aggressively racist to him. Bev is a fucking bitch. Monsignor Pruitt was a good complex character, he pulls of that eerily creepy priest vibe perfectly lol. Even the way he spoke was pretty spot on. I forgot the actress’s name who played Erin but she was also really good in Haunting of Hill House.
What else is on my mind today? I picked up my mom’s jewelry box, and I felt a little bit of sadness. More like melancholy. I definitely felt a number of emotions: sadness, satisfaction, hope. I was sad because it’s a reminder that my mom is no longer with us. I’ve still been questioning the impact this fact has on my family’s life. How it changed the trajectory of our future. I was relieved that we had gotten it back to begin with. Since I blocked out a lot of memories when I was going through getting out of my aunt’s house, I forgot a lot of things. I didn’t even know my mom’s jewelry box was even there. I thought my family had it somehow, but I guess not. I swear my family could be so melodramatic with these “oh i’m gonna withheld your mother’s precious jewelry until I die because I was too prideful to talk to any of my brothers and sisters instead of sending it back to her kids properly like an adult but instead I will keep it hidden somewhere and my partner will have instructions of how to find it when the ‘time comes.’”
And I felt hope. Because Amaia is here, and we can impart something physical to her that belonged to her grandma. Although she’ll never get to meet her, she’ll have some connection with her through her things.
Anyway too sleepy now.
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ficsforeren · 3 years
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more mafia eren headcanons pls 🤲
MORE??????? okay if you insist
So uhh this will be a continuation for this scene I wrote earlier
NSFW - DON'T READ IF YOU'RE BELOW 18
Eren tosses your knife to the side, making a clattering sound as it meets the floor. "Any other tricks of yours I should be aware of?" His voice is soothing in your ear but the gun he points to your neck is anything but.
You struggle to break free. "Get your hands off me."
"Fine," he huffs, drawing back from you. "I guess I'll just have to investigate it myself."
He pushes you forward until you're pressed flat against the wall, his gun pointing at the spot between your shoulder blades. "Arms above your head, Sweetheart," he says but his tone is merciless. "One wrong move and I'll shoot a hole through your chest."
Your breathing rags, raising both hands as he asked you to. "Good girl," he coos and it makes you sick. You can feel his hand sliding down your body, following the curve of your ass before it slips behind the high slit of your red maxi dress. He reaches between your legs, making you jolt when his fingers glide over your lingerie. "Such a cute reaction," he chuckles but he presses the point of his gun harder on your skin. "You won't be needing this." Eren rips your lingerie with one hand, casting it aside.
You're scared to your bones. Terrified. "Please stop."
He drags his hand to the front of your stomach, pulling you closer until you can feel his zipper grazing against your behind. "And what if I don't?"
But he stops once he feels you shuddering in fear. He turns you around and lifts your face by pushing his gun to your chin. His eyes find your glassy ones and even when you're glaring with so much hatred in your eyes, you're trying your best not to cry. Even if it means that you have to bite your lip until it bleeds. He smiles, reaching out a hand and you close your eyes in reflex but what he does is frames your cheek gently. "As much as I like seeing my women cry in bed," he says, "I'm not a rapist."
You thought he was going to murder you instead so when he draws his gun away and tucks it back into the pocket of his suit, you nearly weep in relief. "It's been fun, Sweetheart," he bids his goodbye as you slide down to the floor, knees trembling. "I look forward to seeing you again." And he shuts the bathroom door behind him.
He could've killed you, but he didn't. He should've been, knowing you were out there to kill him, but he didn't. And now you owe him your life.
Sick of having that thought for days, you decide to visit him again.
Eren is lying down on a bed of an overly-priced suite with his black suit discarded, his gun lying on the floor and his white shirt unbuttoned to the middle of his chest when you slip through his door.
"Your lady won't be coming back," you tell him, dressed in a red trench coat that perfectly hugs your body. Eren props himself up with his elbows on the bed, his smirk naturally finds its way to his face. His gun is close enough for him to reach. He just decides not to.
Even in the dimness of the room, you can still see the bulge that's concealed by the silk fabric of his pants. There are lipstick stains on his shirt, and some on the side of his neck.
“Well, that’s unfortunate," he says, not surprised in the slightest. "I'd spent a good amount of money to rent her for the night. Heterochromatic eyes. Very rare.”
"You've got a peculiar taste in women."
“Yeah, looks better on camera.” He shifts his weight, sitting on the edge of the bed. His hair is no longer tied, cascading to his shoulders and framing his cheekbones perfectly. “How many of my guards did you take down to get in here?”
“Three. You know, you should’ve considered hiring bodyguards that are stronger than you.”
“Yeah, you couldn’t even lift a finger against me." He chuckles at the memory. "Well I used to have Levi, but he quits for good.” He takes a cigarette from the pocket of his suit. “Did you kill them?”
“No. I didn’t want to leave dead bodies in such a nice hotel like this.”
“How very thoughtful of you.” He tucks the cigar between his teeth, lighting it up.
“I wouldn’t mind if it was yours, though," you add. "If anyone should die tonight, it should be you.”
“But you can’t kill me." His eyes twinkle mischievously as he leans back and takes a long drag. "So, what are you planning to do?”
"Why didn't you kill me?"
"'Cause you're cute." He brings his cigar to his lips, smirking as he continues, "And I kinda like your face. Wouldn't hate to see it again."
"You should've killed me. Now I feel like I owe you my life."
"You do." He flicks the ashes off. "So, I'm guessing you're here to repay me?" You stay mute but your eyes tell him the answer he wants to hear. "What do you have to offer?"
"Let me join your little boyband. I can be useful to you."
He snorts. "You couldn't even put up a fight against me, why would I want you?"
Your jaw clenches. "Then what do you want me to do?"
Something flickers in his eyes at your choice of words. He takes another drag, standing up and makes his way to the balcony. "Come. The moon looks beautiful tonight." You hesitate for a few seconds before you follow his trail.
Eren leans his back against the railing, throwing his head back as he lets the wind caresses his face. He looks... beautiful, as if he didn't belong to that kind of world. His eyelashes are long, probably longer than yours and those lips—
"Strip."
"What?"
"Strip for me," he repeats, dragging his cigar closer to his lips. "Here. Now." You keep your body still, your glare menacing, though your heart starts to thrash wildly inside your chest. "You said you wanted to repay me, right?"
“I thought you said you weren’t a rapist.”
“I’m not." He exhales clouds of smoke into the air. "I’m not forcing you, am I? I’m only asking you. Whether you do it or not is up to you.”
You can't believe you just called him beautiful. He's fucking sick.
“And you also owe me an escort," he grins lightly as he tosses the rest of his cigarette away, "You’re not heterochromatic but you do have pretty eyes.”
You feel your breathing stutter as he makes his way to you. “You want me to sleep with you?”
“No." In a blink of an eye, Eren has his hand on the front of your throat, pushing you against the glassy window until you're standing on your tiptoes. Your hands are clutching tightly against his wrist, nails scratching his skin to push him away but he only smiles that fucking innocent smile of his that always seems out of place. But when he speaks, another persona takes over.
"I want to fuck you," he says the words through gritted teeth, almost like he's growling. You can feel his breath falling on your lips, can sense the aftertaste of the cigarette he just took. “I want to fuck you raw until you cry. I want to fuck you until you can’t say anything, can't think about anything but my cock inside you. I want to fuck you until you beg me to stop and when you do, I'm gonna fuck you even harder."
You're choking, your lungs starting to catch on fire. "C-can't... breathe..."
And instead of letting you go, he smashes his lips against yours, and he's so rough with his teeth and tongue that you won't be surprised if yours start to bleed. You gasp against his mouth, desperate for air and only after he's satisfied, does he let go.
Retracting his hand, Eren brings back his juvenile smile to his face, hand gently frames your cheek as he whispers in your ear. “But again," his lips brush against your skin. "It’s all up to you, Sweetheart.”
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cursed-domain · 3 years
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Experiments
Mahito x Reader, WC ~3.9k
Mahito’s been testing out his powers for a while now. He wants to do something different with his latest victim. Something a little more... human.
warnings: NSFW and Dark Content - NONCON if that is not your thing do not read any farther. You have been warned. Also fear, tears, kidnapping, possessiveness, oral sex, biting, slapping and uh. Mahito. I think he deserves a warning of his own.
You stayed out just a little too late last night. And you walked home alone. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew that was a bad idea, but - the bar was right down the street from your apartment building, and your friends were - well, they were scattered, and they were hard to find, and you were sure that you could walk straight if you only tried. Your heels were only a couple inches high. 
Maybe you’d somehow fallen right down a drain in the sidewalk last night. Maybe it was too dark to notice, and you were more tipsy than you thought. But that theory doesn’t fit with your last memory aboveground. It doesn’t explain the presence you felt behind you, the feeling that something heavy and hateful had manifested right over your shoulder. 
Most importantly, there are no scratches or scrapes anywhere on your body. You can’t have fallen. You were brought here. Hidden away beneath the street into a tunnel you had no idea existed. And your host has been kind enough to keep you in perfect condition. You’re not even dirty from where you’ve clearly been crumpled on the floor - somehow, the stone corridor is perfectly clean.
As you sit up, all these thoughts run through your head in a matter of seconds. Your shell-shocked stream of consciousness doesn’t give way to panic until a hand from behind you lands on your shoulder. Its owner doesn’t even let you scream - he claps his other hand over your mouth before you have the chance to open it, and leans down so that you feel his hot breath in your ear. “Boo.” 
You strain against his hand when you hear his voice. It doesn’t sound - well, you’re not quite sure what you expected a kidnapper to sound like. Maybe a lower voice. Certainly a sinister one. But he just sounds excited and mischievous, like a child who’s gotten away with a prank. So lighthearted in what is, for you, such a dire situation - it sends a shiver up your spine to imagine his grin.
You don’t have to imagine for long. His hand slinks from your shoulder up your neck, taking root in your hair and yanking your head back so you’re forced to look up. It is dim in the tunnel, but you see his face clearly. You register, in a far-off place in your mind, that it is pretty, almost feminine. Your impression is that his face is far too fine compared to the coarseness of his mouth and his hands, even with the strange scars stitching their way across the unnaturally smooth skin.  
“Don’t look so terrified. Or do. I kinda like it.” Your eyes stretch even wider. “Yeah - I really like it, actually. Stay just like that.” When he speaks for longer, you notice the eerie quality of the cavern - the way it causes sounds to echo and reverberate down its walls. Farther down, you hear the drip-drip-drip of dirty water hitting the floor. But here - not even a drop. It’s as if the space has been cleared of its usual filth, just for you. “Okay,” he says, “I actually wanna hear you, too.” He doesn’t wait for a response before taking his hand from your mouth and letting go of your hair. 
Your heels - they must have fallen off. Or he took them off. In any case - you can run. You know it’s pointless as soon as you stand up. You know even the time you take to rise to your feet is enough for him to grab onto you again. But you have to try. So you do. You’re surprised to get any distance at all. You’re shocked to have made it ten paces - twenty - thirty. Even sprinting with the adrenaline-spiked speed of someone who fears for her life, this shouldn’t be possible. But you find yourself starting to hope. You’re fast, and maybe he was caught off guard. Maybe, just maybe, you can make it to the light you see shining at the mouth of the tunnel. It’s not that far away. And once you’re out there, on the street, he won’t be able to do anything. You’ll make it home and forget this ever happened. Even now, you’re wondering if it’s all a dream. If you’re going to wake up once you hit that light - closer now, so close - snug in your bed, wondering how you managed to make it home last night but relieved that you did. Yes. That has to be it. This isn’t real, and you’re going to escape it so, so soon -
A rush of cold air streaks past you, and your captor appears in front of you, grinning as he blocks your path. You try to step to the side, but he’s already there. Back the other way - he beats you again. You feel your will collapse in on itself as he steps forward and snakes his hand around your waist, laughing unabashedly as you struggle. “Not bad,” he says. “Of course, I gave you a pretty big head start. But still. You run pretty fast for someone who could barely walk the night before.”
You’re so close to him that you’re sure he must be able to hear your heart pounding. Despite your best efforts to hold yourself back, you find yourself looking up at his face again. His eyes are pretty, too. But they’re mismatched - one is a light gray and the other is deep blue - and unblinking. Seeing them up close only makes his presence more unnerving. He grins crookedly as you make eye contact with him, staring back without saying a word.
“What - why -” you break eye contact, choosing instead to stare at the ground where his bare feet are nearly on top of yours. “Please. Let me go.”
“Nuh-uh. No way.” He pushes you back at arms length and leans over you, his face coming so close to yours that your eyes unfocus trying to look at him. “Haven’t even done anything yet.”
“Done…”
“Mhm.” He takes your shoulders and turns you around, giving you a light shove to get you moving. You shudder - your dress has an open back, so his hand didn’t just touch your clothes, but your bare skin. And it’s so short, too. He’s probably staring as you walk, tracing your curves with those unnatural eyes. He looked down when he had you pressed up against him. He didn’t even try to hide it. 
“That’s far enough.” You stop, not even daring to turn around. He slithers around you instead, dragging his hand over the back of your dress again as he passes, keeping a hold on you and pulling you close again. “You’re gonna help me out with some things today, alright?”
When you hesitate, his long fingernails tighten against your skin. He’ll draw blood if he presses any harder. “What…what do you want?”
“I’ve been doin’ some experiments down here.” His nails drag down the curve of your back, only stopping at your hips. “Been learning what I’m capable of. I’ll show you the other test subjects if I have to but… I think I’ve already convinced you to cooperate, right?” He tugs on the hem of your dress, sliding his fingertips underneath the edge of the thin fabric. “You don’t seem ready to meet anyone right now, anyways. Not as if they’re really in a state to talk to you.”
You stare blankly, resisting the urge to squirm as his hand trails up the back of your thigh. Not for the first time, you wonder if you’re going to be leaving this place alive.
“Lots of room down here,” he says. “Plenty of dark corners. But I think I’m gonna keep you right here.” 
“Please..” you say.
“Hmm?” He smiles a second later, once he understands. “Please don’t kill you, right? Don’t mutate your pretty body and then throw you somewhere no one will ever find you?” Your mind amends mutate to mutilate. The intellectual victory does nothing to comfort you. “Don’t worry. ‘m not gonna do that. Not yet, anyways.” His nails are scraping very high on your thigh, now, and the other hand is weaving its way through your hair. His fingers seem to bend strangely around you, as if they have no set form at all, as if they’re molding to best fit your body as he claims it piece by piece. “You’re just gonna help me out a little, okay? “You’re gonna help me figure out what else I’m capable of.”
He grips the top of your head and forces it up and down, mimicking a nod, laughing impishly as you glare up at him. “So sweet of you. We’ll take this one step at a time, alright?”
You don’t understand until he leans over you, running a fingertip across your lips to part them slightly before meeting them with his own. You try to recoil, but the hand toying with your dress runs up your back and presses you forward, forcing you deeper into the kiss instead. It’s unexpectedly gentle, at first, but as your body is forced flush against his it becomes more messy, more hungry. He shoves his tongue against yours and grips your hair tight enough for it to hurt, only drawing back for long enough to bite your lip and watch a string of drool drip across the faint indent he’s left behind. You gasp for breath until he swallows up your mouth again, using his tongue to reach every place he can. 
You stay in place even when he relaxes his grip. He only stops to speak once he has, it seems to you, tried every kind of kiss he can think of - fast, slow, shallow, violent, hungry, sloppy. “You’re doing good,” he says, flashing the same smile as before. “Good start. Amazing, really…” He shakes his head, like he’s trying to clear his thoughts, and the softer smile is replaced by a cold grin. “Take your dress off.” 
“Wh -”
“Take it off. Take off whatever you have underneath it, too. I don’t care about seeing it.”
“But -” 
“But - but -” He laughs again, practically giggles as he mocks your faint protests. “You don’t wanna die, either, do you?”
Mute, you shake your head.
“Actually…” He turns you around again, and you think you hear him sigh faintly as his hips snap against yours. “You’re taking too long. I’ll just do it myself.” He gives you no time to react before tugging on the zipper of your short dress, so violently that it hitches on the teeth and nearly breaks off. Only the second time does he do it right, pulling it all the way down in a smooth motion. The dress only covered from your lower back to a few inches down your thighs, anyways, and now even that protection is stripped away. The front of your body is exposed, too, as he tugs the thin garment along with your panties down to the stone ground beneath your feet.
Every muscle in your body tenses as his own bare skin collides with yours, his worn pants pulled down to rest alongside your dress. “Didn’t even wear anything beneath the dress up here,” he mutters. He reaches from behind you, groping your tits with no regard for the way you whine and squirm. “Making it so easy for me, aren’t you?”
“No,” you gasp. “Didn’t wear anything there. I should have -”
He claws his nails over the delicate peaks of your breasts, and you bite hard on your lip to keep from crying out. “Interesting. That’s a sweet spot, huh?” You shiver as he clamps down on you again. “You got any more I should know about?”
“No…” You lie, as if anything you say now will help you. He’s tracing every inch of your skin already, down your stomach and hips and up your thighs, squeezing and pinching when you least expect it, mapping you out like you’re the first person he’s been this close to in his life. 
“You sure?” He taps his fingertips along the creases that connect the tops of your thighs to your body, pressing close against you and breathing hot in your ear. Making sure you hear and feel his excitement. “We’re gonna test that out, too. So spread out your legs. They’re getting in the way.” 
You clench your fists tight and do as he says, shifting on either side to allow him easy access to every part of you. Still, you reflexively pull your hips back as his fingers climb their way towards your cunt, cringing when your sudden motions make his cock pulse against your skin. 
“What’re you doing that for?” He cups his hand between your legs, ending your desperate attempts to squirm away. “Not like you’re going anywhere, right?” He pulls his hand back, showing you the wet sheen that’s rubbed off on his fingers. “I don’t think you would even if you could. But if you want, I’ll let you run again. Give you ‘til the count of ten before I start chasing you. Maybe even twenty or thirty. Maybe I’ll let you see the street before I drag you back here.” He lets go of you, grabbing your arms and using them to turn you back the way you ran before. “We’ll do it now, actually. Run! I’ll be not-quite-right-behind you.”
You shake your head. 
“Come onn. It’ll be fun. Or - well, I’ll have fun.” Your feet stay rooted to the ground. He looks genuinely disappointed, for a moment, as if he actually expected you to take him up on his inane offer. “Fine.” He shoves down on your shoulders, and you follow the motion, crumpling down to your knees with no resistance. “You can entertain me this way instead, then.” Now that he’s in front of you again, you look for the first time. You’re equal parts curious and repelled by the stitch-like markings that continue down the rest of his body. If you were thinking clearly, you’d wonder if they were perhaps tattoos, and why anyone would choose to do something like that to themselves. But the crisscrossing lines guide you far too quickly down the length of his frame, forcing your curious eyes down below his hips before you have the sense to close them. 
He tilts his head, sizing up your expression before flicking his eyes down your body and then back up to meet yours. “You’ve definitely done this before. So do it right.” Your eyes are almost as wide as your mouth as he closes the last inches between you and him. “Make it feel how it’s supposed to.” You nod blanlky as you wonder how you’re supposed to fit him all the way in your mouth. Maybe you won’t have to. He’s so obviously inexperienced, so eager… maybe you can end this quickly. 
You drag the tip of your tongue up the underside of his cock, forcing yourself to look up at him as you give the same slow treatment to the sides and the tip before taking the shaft in your hand. He stares back, his gaze flicking between your eyes and your mouth as it works over his cock. He’s breathing harder already, less than halfway into your mouth, almost letting the breaths tip over the edge into moans as your tongue flicks up his length again. It takes a concerted effort not to close your eyes, to not let your resolve crumble. 
It has started to happen already. He was right in his crude assessment of you - you do know what you’re doing - but you’ve never been so terrified with a cock in your mouth, never felt like your life depended on your ability to please the man in front of you. Your strokes become sloppy as you let panic edge into the corners of your vision.
“Fuck,” he groans. Your one free hand clenches into a fist as he grabs you at the nape of your neck and thrusts forward, holding you still as he forces his cock back into your throat. “Fuck.” You feel him writhe in your mouth just as his fingers did in your hair, molding himself to the contours of your throat as he fucks your face over and over, only becoming more frantic as you start to struggle against his hand, more frenzied as you gag and drool around him, until finally - finally - you’re tugged forward one last time, your lips pulled taught as hot liquid spurts down your throat. He keeps you there as you continue struggling for breath, sliding his thumb over your bottom lip and smearing your drool across your face. 
When you’re finally allowed to pull back, you wrap your arms around yourself, shrinking inwards as you whisper, “Please. May I go now?”
“Huh?” He crouches down until his face is level with yours, crossing his arms over his knees as he sinks to the ground. You try to keep your eyes on his face - it’s practically glowing, his eyes wild and bright, their contrasting colors even more apparent. “We’re not done yet, sweetheart. Just taking a little break.” 
You freeze for a second before scrambling backwards. It’s absolutely stupid, but - he said he wanted you to run. So he won’t get mad at you for trying one last time. And maybe it’ll work this time. Maybe you’ll get out. Maybe he was lying and he’s actually ready to see you go. Maybe seeing you run naked and sobbing onto the street will be enough to satisfy him, and he won’t chase you any farther.
He gives you five paces before pouncing, pinning you to the ground with one hand wrapped tight around your throat, turning you over so he can see the fear written on your face. “Guess what?” He whispers it into your ear before sinking his teeth into your neck, nearly hard enough to split your skin open. You feel something hard pressing into your stomach, swelling as you cry out in pain. “Break is over.” He drags his tongue over cheek and traces it down your jaw before kissing you right where the bite mark still glows red on your skin. Using both hands to pin your wrists down at your sides, he drags his way down your body, running his tongue over your breasts, your navel, around the triangle between your thighs. “I usually don’t care much about what’s fair, but - I really think I should return the favor.” His eyes flit down to your legs, squeezed tightly together. “Try to relax. This is supposed to be fun, right?” He works two fingers between thighs and prys them open. 
You hold back a whimper as he dives into the space between, dragging the flat of his tongue voraciously over your hot cunt. He’s sloppy, ignoring the way your eyes are glued to his face as he tests and probes your cunt, teasing the opening and forcing his tongue inside, giving no pause before swallowing the sheen left behind. You have to squeeze your eyes shut. You have to tell yourself not to give in to the heat sweeping through your core, not to accept even a tiny bit of pleasure from the man defiling you, but - it’s so, so difficult. So strange to feel someone so obviously selfish pleasing you, even if it’s by accident, even if it’s just for his own enjoyment - you can’t stop yourself from pushing your hips shamelessly against his mouth. Can’t stop yourself from moaning as his fingers find your clit. 
He pulls away, laughing at the whine that escapes from your mouth. “Tastes better than I thought,” he says. “But you  - you’re reacting just like I thought. It’s like your mind’s melting away.” He pinches your clit between two fingers, and your eyes nearly roll back into your head. “You’re being controlled by this now.”
You just manage to shake your head. “No - no. I’m still - I don’t -”
He pounces on top of you again, thrusting his fingers into your open mouth. “Shhh. You don’t have to talk. That’s not what you’re here for.” He grinds against you, his cock already pushing at the entrance to your cunt as he fucks your mouth with his fingers, nearly making you gag as he pushes relentlessly into your throat. “You’re here to help me out, right? And you’ve been doing so good. So good for me.” You don’t want your stomach to flutter at the praise. Not here, not from him. You try your best to ignore it, tell yourself to close your eyes as he all but fucks your thighs. 
When you try to screw them shut, though, he puts his pinky right on your eyelid and drags up, forcing it to flutter open again. “Ah-ah,” he says. “Keep your eyes open. I wanna see how this makes you feel.” He presses his hips hard against yours, guiding himself nearly all the way inside you in a single motion. “Fuck.” His eyes nearly close as he savors the feeling of you tightening around him, but he keeps them open just wide enough to see your lips open wide, forming an O around the fingers still scraping against your tongue. “I’m keeping you here forever. Understand?” The drool from his fingers smudges across your cheek as he grabs the sides of your face, squeezing as he shoves farther inside you, over and over again, only spurred on by the sloppy noises he hears every time the two of you connect. “Gonna be - gonna be my fucking toy forever. I’ll keep you on a fucking leash if I have to.” 
All you can do is whimper and blink back your tears. He brushes his tongue across your face, licking them away as they overflow. “You look so scared. So mad.” He’s slowing himself down, now. Making it last. “It’s cute. Stay just like that, okay?” He presses on the corners of your mouth, forcing it deeper into a scowl. “So fucking cute.”
Your eyes match the anger he’s forced onto your mouth. Somehow, this moment feels worse than everything that’s come before. He’s playing with your face now. Trying to make it his, just like your body. And something about that - it breaks your daze. And your arms aren’t pinned anymore. There’s nothing you can do to make him stop, but. You feel the overwhelming urge to do something.
You reach up and slap him. Right across his pretty face, turning it sharply aside just as his cock buries itself all the way inside your cunt, reaching farther than you thought anyone ever could. His eyes widen, and his grip on your face tightens to a vise. You think that just once, you’ve managed to shock him.
Your faint sense of victory fades when you feel his cock pulse unmistakably inside you. 
“Oh -” he sighs blissfully as he releases inside you, and you go limp as he collapses into your shoulder. A moment later, he turns his head and whispers in your ear. “Very interesting.” You can practically feel his grin radiating against your neck. “I’m definitely keeping you, now. So many things to try…” You squirm as he shifts on top of you, his face hovering right over your own. “And you’re gonna help me with every single one.”
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