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obscure-entity · 7 months

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your shading is AMAZING specially when its conveying organic forms..... do you have any tips for people who dont know wrf going on (with shading)

ok so HI. hi. my old tutorial pisses me off so i will make a new one

i made a guy whose sole purpose is to be shaded so dont worry he likes it. and his name. his name will be mr. Boob. mr boob does not have to be blue

theres probably way better explanations of how to do it but unfortunately trying to "emulate" shading does ask you to somewhat understand ur character in a 3d way. like what would the 2d shape be if you "sliced" it? mr boob is made of so many circles. his tail also does a kind of weird perspective foreshortening thing because its pointing at you. is this being conveyed

you obviuously dont have to draw a horrendous grid on your characters skin to do this . BUT it helps you put down (or at least envision) the lines of the form shading :

dont worry about cast shadows or the shading color because this is FORM SHADOW time only. think about what surfaces of the character are obviously facing away from the light source and put down the "separation line" of the shading based on that. thr most important thing is that youre trying to separate light from dark

im going to pick the first one for cast shadows bc it will be the most obvious to me

ok so. his ears and snout are blocking other surfaces of his body from the light, which means a shadow is cast!!!! bam. i saw someone describe cast shadows as what the light's pov "can't see." his entire body is putting down a cast shadow on the ground too

im impatient so i blended the form shadows now. its usually the easiest to just NOT blend cast shadows as a way of conveying that they are still cast shadows. but you can still blend them if you want to show "distance" between the obstruction and the surface its blocking. but its just a way of saying form and cast shadows should not be treated the same even if their softness coincides

im going to lump reflection and ambient light together because theyre like. similar. reflections dont just happen in mirrors

since the sky is blue, making the ambient lighting, i tinged mr. boobs existing shadow to be a bit blue. (*this is kind of important because it can help you decide a shading color, which should USUALLY be based on the environment) (unless your character is just in the transparent void then it doesnt matter)

since the ground is pink, i made pink light bounce off of him. pointed and labelled. i dont rlly know how to go more in depth than that

contact shadows are literally shadows formed from direct-touching contact. very little light can reach in there, even from how reflections disperse, which means youre free to use the darkest color available (black). in this case mr. boob is making contact with the floor. because he is sitting on the floor.

i touched him up a bit and wow!!!!!!!!!! look at mr. boob!!! he is so beautifully sculpted.

and one more thing

thats right. i made mr boob PINK. hes fucking ruined now. just kidding i would never say that to him

what im trying to convey here (its the easiest with really light colors) is a transitional color. this can also show subsurface scattering depending on how you use it which is fun to look at. the mistake i made on my last tutorial was "Just pick a warm saturated color!" which is really wrong in examples like Blue mr boob. because it would be weird to use a warm color to transition from blue to blue.

if you have a character that isn't bright enough then obviously the shadows wont be as visible. its BEST to bring more attention to highlights and reflections to reveal the form a bit. they play the biggest role with darker colors

thats all i can think of. fun things to look up:

structuralization + contour lines + foreshortening etc. 3d lingo

form shadows

cast shadows

ambient light

contact shadows

subsurface scattering

im also just speaking out of my ass otherwise. i didnt look up any of these terms until the end now im inferring and hoping i got them right

and remember every time you shade mr boob will be rooting for you

#art tutorial #shading #lighting #long post

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angelshimaa · 5 months

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━━ [ 𝟒:𝟐𝟗 ] ;; 𝐁𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐆𝐎𝐔 𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈

✧ cw :: fem!reader (bkg calls reader 'my girl' once), fluff, bkg calls you ‘babe’ once, hinted at that denki has a crush on you, you just wanna braid his hair

✧ a/n :: finally some fluff 🤭 i actually really liked writing this one !!

“your hair is actually a curse.”

your words come out a little above a whisper, absent-minded as you play with his hair, his head resting in your lap. granted, the blond hair is softer than it looks, but its uneven spikes barely allowed for any diversity in hairstyles.

“like, what do you mean i can't braid it?” this isn't the first time this exasperated complaint is voiced and you hear bakugou snort, the corners of his lips tilting upwards in a half-grin.

“thank god, i’d look like shit with braids.” you try to envision them on him, but the fact that his face is upside down doesn’t help at all. what you do see is the light from the warm day peaking through the thin curtains to kiss his face, and you're reminded of how unnecessarily pretty your boyfriend is.

“who said you don't already look like shit?” you can't help it, and when he looks up at you, eyebrows raised as if you both know better, you grin and raise yours back— as if to suggest that maybe he doesn't.

“don’t think you'd be here if i did, babe.” his grin looks boyish and you can't understand why he prefers contorting his features into a grimace.

it's your turn to snort, fingers sectioning some of his choppy bangs off to as to fiddle around with them specifically. “maybe i’m into guys who look like shit, katsuki. ever think about that?”

“if you were, you would be in dunceface’s room right now, not mine.” it's too quick of a response to not have been thought of before, and you flick the top of his forehead. he's done it to you many times before, and you understand why— it was a little fun.

“kaminari is actually really nice, katsu, leave him be.”

bakugou rolls his eyes— of course you'd think he's nice. “he’s even better when he's not hitting on my girl— he should try that sometime.” you chuckle at his grumbling, eyebrows knitted together to frame his eyes. he's cute when he's harmlessly jealous.

“even if he was— i fear my heart is already taken.” you fake a look of sorrow. “a shame, really.”

katsuki's eyes gleam in daylight as he scoffs. “‘a shame’ my ass— you're so in love with me it makes you look stupid.”

he's right, the both of you know he is. neither of you would have it any other way.

“you say that as if you don't kiss the ground i walk on, katsu.” your smile is softer and it sends a pang to his heart.

“and you deserve every kiss.” it's a cheesy line, one a past him would likely cringe at, but he finds no shame in making his devotion to you well known.

you dip your head down to give him a peck on the lips, grinning. the heart eyes he gives you when you're that close has the butterflies resting in your stomach kick up. “that’s what i thought, katsuki. now... have you ever thought about straightening your hair?”

you laugh at the horror that crosses over his face, scowl settling in his face as if to tell you to not even think about it— it doesn't matter how badly you want to braid it.

katsuki's whipped. he knows from the way he thinks you laugh like a summer afternoon, warm and excited, but even he had his limits.

✧ — thank you for reading !! rbs and feedback are greatly appreciated <3

taglist (fill in this form to join!) :: @maeby-cursed @katsukismrs @himikoslove @pasteldaze @afairywithacrown @moonshuul @https-spacekay @k0z3me

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don-dake · 11 months

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So I've been playing around with Cāngjié…

And I thought a post like this (similar to a post on Zhùyīn done by linghxr) may be of interest to some.

Edited: 10 Sep 2023

This post has gotten a little popular lately and on scrutinizing my own post again, I've come to the conclusion that I had made some mistakes in my given character examples.

Amended now. Namely, 「唔」 and 「龍」 have now been swapped over in the examples.

「唔」 is really the “3-parts”, and 「龍」 is indeed a “2-parts” character! Amendments are reflected in orange.

What (and who) is Cāngjié?

For those who may not know, Cāngjié is another way to input 漢字/汉字 (Hànzì — Chinese characters). It is way less popular than Pinyin (or even Zhuyin) but it still has its fans, and has a few advantages over the other two.

Cāngjié is also the name of the mythical figure in Chinese legend who is said to have been the inventor of 漢字/汉字, for which Cāngjié (the input system) was named after.

Would I recommend it?

Yes, if you think you have already acquired a good (enough) understanding of 漢字/汉字, and/or just like a new challenge.

(TL;DR at the end)

Why am I learning Cāngjié (and why you may like to, too)?

1. Mostly for fun.

Have long been intrigued by both Cāngjié and Zhùyīn, and since I finally mustered up the courage to tackle Zhùyīn not too long ago, I thought I'd finally give Cāngjié a try.

While learning Cāngjié does require more effort than learning Pinyin or Zhuyin, it can also be really fun! Inputting 漢字/汉字 with the Cāngjié method is almost like doing a jigsaw puzzle.

The euphoria derived from figuring out and piecing together the radicals that make up a word is something that learning Jyutping (Cantonese equivalent of Pinyin), Pinyin or Zhuyin can't quite match.

And while I know I'll never be as adept with Cāngjié — my knowledge of 漢字/汉字 is nowhere near good enough to ever use Cāngjié efficiently — as I do Jyutping or Pinyin (or to some extent, Zhuyin), it'll still be fun to use Cāngjié every once in a while!

2. Helps with thinking and typing in Chinese.

The upshot of relying too much on using Jyutping/Pinyin/Zhuyin is, I'd tend to think in Roman letters or ㄅㄆㄇㄈ before I'd even think about the actual 漢字/汉字.

But with Cāngjié, because it's based on knowing radicals and joining them together to form actual characters, it'll encourage thinking of 漢字/汉字 first, so I think that would help some with 漢字/汉字 memory retention.

Now you may be thinking, why not just you know, practise actually writing then? That is the tried and proven method to better remember 漢字/汉字 after all?

Yes, of course I can do that — and am doing so occasionally — but we live in a digital age now, and the probability and opportunity to type things out is much higher than actually writing stuff by hand.

The idea here is, more looking to think of and envision characters fully in my head, and trying to lessen over-reliance on Jyutping/Pinyin/Zhuyin.

And this is where I find Cāngjié can be useful, which leads to my next point…

3. Haunted by “What if” scenario.

What if there comes a day (however improbable) where I'm presented with only a Cāngjié keyboard to use for typing Chinese? It has happened with Zhùyīn for me!

That means, no Pinyin or Zhuyin keyboards, no Handwriting tools/touchscreens to write with fingers/mouse, no speech-to-text, and no option to copy-and-paste characters from somewhere else either! What then?

4. Able to type without knowing pronunciation, and with more accuracy.

Cāngjié is shape-based. Unlike Jyutping/Pinyin/Zhuyin, where you have to know what a character sounds like before you can type it out, with Cāngjié, you can type out (again assuming no Handwriting or other tools available) characters without needing to know how to pronounce them at all.

With shape-based typing, you'd also get more accurate hits in the first few 漢字/汉字 that show up, versus sound-based methods like Pinyin where for e.g., typing out “wan” will get you a whole list under the same sound and you may have to scroll through a whole lot to get the exact “wan” you need.

You can also type both Traditional and Simplified characters without having to toggle something or switch keyboards.

So how does one begin learning Cāngjié?

Install a Cāngjié keyboard.

Duh…but of course! Heh! Gboard offers one, banded under Cantonese language input (Android user here, don't know about iPhones, sorry).

There are two versions of Cāngjié that are prevalent currently. Cāngjié 3 and Cāngjié 5. Cāngjié 5 is supposed to be an improvement over version 3 but I don't find there's much; having a slightly altered version just adds to the confusion and unnecessarily complicates matters, in fact!

If you have a choice, I'd recommend selecting Cāngjié 3 as that is more supported. Some operating systems may not be too compatible with Cāngjié 5 still, for some strange reason.

You may also come across something called “Quick” (速成) aka, “Simplified Cāngjié”.

This is simply a scaled down version of Cāngjié, it's still based on Cāngjié's formula. So you still need to know how Cāngjié works in order to use “Quick” efficiently.

You'd then need a chart like this. ↓

* the 重 (Z) key doesn't really come into use. I don't really know what it's for, but it seems to be used (paired with other keystrokes) mainly to type out various punctuation marks.

There are variants out there, some having a little more, or less, radicals shown than in the above example, but I'll say the chart here is one of the more comprehensive ones I've found so far (and sufficient enough) — other charts often fail to highlight the 難 (X) key and what it corresponds to.

You don't have to memorize the chart all at once. Just always have a chart like this on hand to refer to and with enough typing practise, you'll eventually remember which key corresponds with which radicals.

Remember the rules. ↓

“1 part” character (e.g. 寫) = first 3 & last (radical).

“2 parts” character (e.g. 唔龍) = first & last, first 2 & last.

“3 parts” character (e.g. 難) = first & last, first & last, last.

e.g. 寫 ↓

With radicals 宀，丿，臼 (first 3) and 灬 (last).

Corresponding keys: 十，竹，難 and 火。

寫 → 写 ↓

With radicals 冖，卜，㇆ (first 3)，一 (last).

Corresponding keys：月，卜，尸 and 一。

e.g. 龍 ↓

With radicals 亠，月 (first & last), 卜，コ (first 2)，ヒ (last).

Corresponding keys: 卜，月，卜，尸，and 心。

龍 → 龙 ↓ (Simplified 龍 → 龙，a “1 part” character)

With radicals 丶，ナ，ヒ (first 3).

Corresponding keys: 戈，大，and 心。

e.g. 難 ↓

With radicals 廿，人 (first & last)，亻(first & last)，土 (last).

Corresponding keys: 廿，人，人 and 土。

難 → 难 ↓

With radicals ヌ (first & last)，亻(first & last)，土 (last).

Corresponding keys: 水，人，and 土。

Occasionally, you may get a character that looks like a “2 parts” but is actually a “3 parts”. ↓

e.g. 唔 ↓

With radicals 口 (first & last)，一，一 (first & last)，口 (last).

Corresponding keys: 口，一，一 and 口。

Or looks like a “1 part” but really a “3 parts”. ↓

e.g. 奪 ↓

With radicals 大 (first & last)，亻，土 (first & last)，丶 (last).

Corresponding keys: 大，人，土，and 戈。

奪 → 夺 ↓(Simplified 奪 → 夺，a “1 part” character)

With radicals 大，寸 (first 3; the 丶 is the 3rd component).

Corresponding keys: 大，木，and 戈。

But these are exceptions, and don't occur that often.

And you can start practising!

You can try out this pretty good app called 『五色學倉頡』 (learning Cāngjié with 5 colours), for practise. It's on Playstore, just search for “Cangjie Dictionary” and it should show up.

You have to pay to unlock higher levels, unfortunately. ↓

Anyway, each character comes with colour coded hints and you can opt to turn them off if you like more of a challenge. There are also hints (提示) and the chart (字根表) to refer to if you're really stuck. Also has a dictionary component (查字典) to check out the Cāngjié input for characters.

Another option would be a website called HKCards. ↓

You can use it to check the Cāngjié input for any 漢字/汉字, and there's section for practise (倉頡輸入法練習) as well. After inputting your answer with Cāngjié keys (手田水口廿卜), you can click on the “Answer” (答案) button to see how right or wrong your answers were. ↓

There are 8 characters each time, and you can just hit “Practise Again” (再做練習) to refresh for another 8 to practise with. I've yet to hit a limit.

Unfortunately, this website has lots of ads popping up. And it only supports searching in Traditional characters (Cāngjié was initially catered more for Traditional).

Or you can just try practising randomly with a Cāngjié keyboard and check for mistakes with a Cāngjié dictionary (『五色學倉頡』 app's dictionary comes in really useful here — it appears to support searching in Simplified too).

TL;DR

Cāngjié could be useful (and fun) to know if your 漢字/汉字 knowledge is already adequate, and/or you just like a new challenge.

And if watching videos is more your thing, here's a really helpful YouTube tutorial on how to use Cāngjié (has English subs)!

#Cangjie #Congkit #Cantonese #Mandarin #Jyutping #Pinyin #Zhuyin #Bopomofo #Traditional Characters #Chinese Language #Language #Long Post #Dake Rambles

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riririnnnn · 1 month

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When Bachira was first introduced, I actually didn't quite like his character much.

At a quick first glance, it's not tough to perceive him as the stereotypical quirky best friend/companion character for a protagonist—at least, that's what I judged him to be. Not hating on sunshine characters, but the first thing that came into my mind was, "So cliché." After Ego's such an intense speech, I just didn't appreciate the thought of a character being opposite to the more serious tone of the Manga; felt like pushing a character into the bandwagon of, "Idc if I'm weird, I love being me."

But now if someone were to say that they don't like Bachira, then I give them the most diabolical side-eye to have ever side-eyed in the history of side-eyeing.

I don't know how or maybe Rin was speaking with what he had experienced himself, but he grasped Bachira's character much better and before Isagi did (read left to right):

I didn't think of it much at that time, I just thought Rin was just being all high and mighty, but a small realisation did form in the back of my mind that despite the whole concept/ideal of Blue Lock and being a top notch player himself, Bachira always appeared like he was looking for someone and while others were trying make a goal by themselves in the Team Z, he was passing to Isagi—that's one of the reason I think Ego saw through too, maybe that's why Bachira was in Team Z and not higher.

Panning the focus to his childhood:

Just look at him trying to convince them to play more soccer with him.

*sigh*

He is so precious and my heart nearly broke when those kids were calling him gross and weird:

As someone with Mommy issues, you might not fully understand how much I adore Bachira's mother. Without her, Bachira would've lost himself completely. She is just amazing.

..but:

It was because of her that Bachira was able to continue believing in himself. He didn't want to lose the voice that others lost—that's one of the reasons why I think he made an imaginary friend, his monster, so that he wouldn't forget the voice.

However, amidst everything, he was just.. lonely.

He envisioned his soccer through the image of his monster. It was easier that way, at least, for him. However, he could only see that monster in those who were behind the screens—the actual pro players. That's why he wished to play just like them and to find someone who played soccer like him, understood the 'fun' part of soccer.

He was so lonely..

..and that's when Isagi came:

I'm so sorry to all Isagi x Bachira shipper, but I, sometimes, can't help but low-key despise you guys. I'm not saying all, but many of you have just reduced them to a Twink x Twink ship. I'm not against shipping, ship whoever you want as long as it's morally ethical and you aren't shoving it down my throat, but this ship does overshadows the actual beauty of their relation—their beautiful friendship.

Bachira had already started doubting himself whether he'd ever find someone or not—whether he'd be forever lonely with his soccer or not and that's when Isagi came. That's why Bachira loves Isagi so much—he was his first true friend after all.

Just to clarify again, I'm not against Isagi x Bachira ship and neither do I hate it. Please do not attack me. I'm not trying to shame anyone for shipping them.

I hope @thebluelockroyals, you now understand why I think Bachira has a sad backstory.

Loneliness is awful and the fear of never finding someone who understands you and your love for something you enjoy is heart wrenching. Some might argue that he got a wonderful mother, but sometimes, it's just not enough. Helplessness never sees your comfort—he had her, but he wished for someone who resonated in the same frequency as him.

This face screams, "I ated glass":

Younger!Bachira gives me so much baby fever. God! The cuteness aggression! I'll definitely give my own child the same hairstyle as his.

#blue lock #bllk #bachira meguru #雪 ranting

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akiizayoi4869 · 10 months

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If there's one part about Vegeta's arc that I absolutely love, it would be this:

His regression in season 8 was very well done. It wasn't shoehorned in and it made sense. I remember seeing on Reddit years ago people complaining about this specific part of his arc, saying that it made no sense for him to regress the way he did when he was redeemed at this point. But consider this. It makes perfect sense when you factor in one thing: he wasn't redeemed yet. He was still going through his redemption arc by this point.

Vegeta wasn't raised to be a family man. He was raised to be a killing machine. He was raised with the idea in mind that he would one day be the king of the Saiyan race. All of that got taken away from him. His belief that he was the strongest Saiyan alive was taken when Goku became a Super Saiyan and defeated Frieza, and again when Gohan became a Super Saiyan 2 and killed Perfect Cell. And then Goku makes the choice to stay dead instead of coming back to life via the dragon balls. So now, Vegeta's one rival, the person who he swore he would one day surpass and defeat is gone for good. So all Vegeta has left at this point is the family he created with Bulma. Something that he most likely never envisioned for himself. So he decides to live a life on earth with her and their son.

Everything seems to be going fine for Vegeta....until the World Martial Arts Tournament happens. And Goku decides to return on this one day so that he can participate. Suddenly, all of the feelings that Vegeta bottled up over the last 7 years since Goku's death comes rushing to the surface. Finally, after all this time, Vegeta could finally prove that he's better than Goku. They even get matched up to fight each other in the tournament! How lucky is that, right? And then this guy happens:

And just like that, Vegeta's chance to fight Goku is now shattered thanks to this new threat to Earth. Instead of his attention being on him, Goku has his sights set on defeating Buu before he can be revived. For the entire time Vegeta, Goku, Gohan, and the Supreme Kai are in Babidi's lair, Vegeta is angry. He's waited 7 years for the chance to fight Goku again, and now that he finally gets the chance to do so, this happens. We see Vegeta's mood get worse and worse throughout the time they fight Babidi's minions, and it's gets so bad to the point where Babidi is able to get Vegeta under his control. Now, as Vegeta pointed out later on, he actually could of fought off Babidi's mind control. But he chose not to. Why? Because he saw how powerful Babidi's minions were while they were under his control. So Vegeta figured he could use some of that power to do this:

Fight Goku without any interruptions. Which is what he wanted from the start. Even though he knew that fighting would give more energy to Buu and thus revive him, Vegeta didn't care. So long as he got to fight Goku. Keep in mind that this is the same guy who let Semi-Perfect Cell absorb Android 18, despite the fact that he knew it could end up being a bad decision. But Vegeta didn't care because he wanted a good fight.

Now there's one line that Vegeta said to Goku during this fight that always stuck with me from the moment I heard it back when I was a kid. When Goku asks him why did he do all of this, Vegeta responds with "Because I wanted him to reawaken the evil within my heart. I wanted him to return me to the way I was...BEFORE!!! I WAS THE PERFECT WARRIOR! COLD AND RUTHLESS! I LIVED BY MY STRENGTH ALONE! UNINHIBITED BY FOOLISH EMOTION!!! But slowly...over the years... I became one of you. My quest for greatness gradually giving way to this life of mediocrity. I awoke one day to find that I had settled down and formed a family. I had even grown quite fond of them. Would you believe, I almost started thinking that the Earth was a nice place to live. Do you understand now, Kakarrot? That's why I needed Babidi! To set me free! By releasing the evil within my heart! He has freed me of these petty attachments. And I have to say it feels pretty good."

That entire speech he gave to Goku summarized PERFECTLY the internal conflict that Vegeta had going on within him. On the one hand, he wants this. He wants to feel strong again. He wants to defeat Goku and prove that he's better than him once and for all. He wants the life of a warrior back, because for so long that's all he knew. But on the other hand, he knows that the way he's going about it is wrong. Like he just admitted to Goku, there's a small part of him that loves the life he made for himself, and that he loves his family, too. Which is why Goku then says to him "Do you really believe what you're saying?". Now, Vegeta doesn't respond to this, but he doesn't have to. His silence is his answer. After that, the long awaited fight between these two begins. And after a while, Vegeta does come to the realization that he fucked up big time, and that he needs to do something to make up for it. Which is why he does this:

He knocks Goku out while his back is turned. Why? Because he wants to fight Majin Buu alone. Because if it hadn't been for Vegeta's desire to fight Goku, Majin Buu probably wouldn't have gotten the energy he needed to be revived. So Vegeta decides to take full responsibility for everything and take on Buu himself. To me, this is when his redemption arc comes full circle, because of his sacrifice. He knows that he can't beat Majin Buu through normal means, so what does he do? Blow himself up in an explosion that he's certain will destroy Buu along with him.

Vegeta even says in his mind that he's doing this for Bulma, Trunks, and even Goku. Something that I'm pretty sure a lot of us never thought we would ever hear him say. That he's doing something for other people. That he's not doing this for himself. I'm pretty sure that he saw this as his way to atone (hence why this move is called "final atonement" in the video games) but the fact remains that he did it anyway. Sure, we see Vegeta get angry when Perfect Cell killed Future Trunks, but still. That moment can't compare to this one. All in all, Majin Vegeta is the best part of Vegeta's redemption arc and the way how it's written really did an excellent job in wrapping it up.

#DBZ #Majin Vegeta #Vegeta #Majin Buu #Goku

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childotkw · 5 months

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Um, not sure if you've been asked this before (I could've sworn that at one point you had, but i can't for the life of me find the post) but do you have any thoughts about genderbent Regulus Black?

I can see there being a much more different sibling dynamic between them and Sirius as there isn't an heir and backup dynamic with Walburga and Orion no doubt seeing Regulus as a tool to be married off. Not to mention they'd be much more strict with Sirius without a backup heir to replace him.

Not to mention it would be interesting if Tom saw Regulus as a chance to better win the loyalty of the pureblood community, after all having a bride from one of the most prestigious pureblood families would raise his standing by a lot.

I absolutely love your female Harry AU's especially "I pray(death parts us)" and "Serpent In These Still Waters ", and I love the marriage dynamic between Tom and Harry.

However I do wonder about the arranged marriage dynamic that Tom could have. Especially with someone who was born into the world of pureblood politics.

No pressure obviously to answer if you're not interested, but yea I was just wondering.

Ohh yes I know the one you're talking about! I ended up with Rana Black being the fem!Regulus name - you can read the original outline here.

I do have many thoughts about it - mainly how Ran would have grown up shaped by society's expectations and how she would eventually grow to cast those expectations off.

In my idea, Rana manages to convince Orion to ship her off to Beauxbatons. Orion, because his daughter is his favourite child, agrees to do this one thing for her, despite any objections from his wife. Rana actually eventually moves permanently to France with Kreacher as her ""guardian"" (because let's be real, the wizarding world has a pretty broken view on how young children should be raised and this isn't that far out of the norm for them). So Rana misses a large portion of the bullshit that is brewing in Britain.

But...

Walburga sees, Walburga knows. In the brief instances she actually interacts with her daughter (who seemed to grow up between blinks, who turned from a slim and silent shadow of a girl into a calm and confident young woman far from her mother's influence), Walburga learns.

Rana is not some demure wife-to-be. She is a...liberationist. A young woman with incorrect and damaging opinions on what her place in the world should be. Her time in France, in that school, has warped her understanding of her duty.

So, Walburga must fix this. As the new heir to the Black legacy, Rana has a responsibility to their House. She must bring in the next generation, and she must accept her place.

Walburga looks at Narcissa, at Bellatrix, and knows she must find her daughter a husband that can curb her radical views.

She also decides, rather firmly, that it's time her daughter learns deference. Learns to bow.

Orchestrating an encounter between her daughter and the Dark Lord is easy enough. Walburga is one of the few that still sees Tom Riddle in the face of Voldemort, and that tenuous childhood connection gives her enough leverage to push her daughter into the man's space with the implied permission to teach the girl how to drop her chin.

Only...that's not what happens.

Voldemort sees Rana's spark, sees her potential and her ideas and her biting cynicism towards the structures of their society; sees the way her eyes constantly drift towards the horizon, towards France, and finds himself a little curious at this until-now unknown Black.

(Voldemort is, after all, a radical himself. Why Walburga thought he would dismiss Rana's ideals or find her foolish is beyond him.)

Marriage isn't the first or fourth or even twentieth plot he envisions with Rana Black - but eventually it does creep into his purview.

And that intrigue, the future he could see forming with everything Rana Black brings with her, is enough for him to kick things into gear.

The biggest problem - the only problem, really - is that Rana Black does not want to marry.

Anyone.

Not even the Dark Lord.

#anonymous #HP #regulus black #tom riddle #regulus x tom #fem!regulus

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jackoshadows · 11 months

Text

When I posted this from a forum, many of you noted the use of the word ‘Primitive’ in how Arya was being described. Sadly these are not just opinions held in the fringe corners of the ASoIaF fandom.

This idea that the Stark looking Starks are ‘primitive’ and ‘tribe like’ is why they are envisioned, imagined and popularly headcanoned as being poc in 80% of fanart when the canonical text makes it clear that they are as white as the Tully looking Starks. In the books the First Men and Freefolk (descended from the First Men) are all white. The First Men were colonizers who fought with the indigenous Children of the Forest for their land.

This form of racism, which maybe subconscious for white folks, goes all the way back to social Darwinism where POC were seen as less civilized, savage and barbaric - to be civilized is to be white and to be primitive is to be brown/black.

How did fanon POC Starks become so popular despite clear descriptions of Arya’s ‘Pink’ skin in the books? Despite the characters on the TV show being all white and Arya played by white Maisie Williams? Why is Arya mostly drawn in darker shades to contrast with her Stark sister, who the fandom insists is the most beautiful girl in Westeros, when they are both canonically white?

Using skin colour in fanart and drawing Arya/Jon/Ned in duller/darker shades and Sansa/Catelyn/Robb in brighter shades because the Tullys are considered to be better looking by certain characters in the books is racism/colorism at it’s finest, there’s no debating it. And yet it still continues to be drawn, reblogged and liked in this majority white fandom.

As one popular fanartist told me when I explained to them why drawing the Stark looking Starks in darker shades specifically to contrast them to the Tully looking Starks is problematic:

Descriptions of the Andals as ‘Tall and blonde’ and the first men being visualized as ‘Tribes’ and hence darker is horrifically racist. This is basically white supremacist, social Darwinism at it’s finest.

The Starks worship the Old Gods or Trees and the wider fandom generally sees the North as savage and barbaric compared to the ‘enlightened South’. This is why we get posts that celebrate Sansa bringing music and the arts to the North as a ruler and thereby civilizing the barbarians and how Arya simply cannot be Lady of Winterfell because she is not the right kind of Lady with the ‘soft girl/fairy tale vibes’ that is the product of neoliberal, post feminist tradfem culture.

This has already been brought up in fandom several times, like for example: Here. I have tried several times to politely and patiently explain to several artists in their comment sections on why their art is problematic and racist. Not once has any artist been gracious enough to understand where poc are coming from on this - instead there has been more justifications, claim their freedom as an artist to draw how they want and continue with their racist fanart.

To be clear I am not saying that the Starks should never be drawn as characters of colour or reimagined as pocs in AUs. I am saying that if it has to be done, do it tastefully, keeping in mind racial sensitivities and think deep on why you want to draw them that way or why you imagine only certain Starks to be that way.

If Ned, Jon and Arya are your favorite characters and you want them to be POC like you, go for it! Let ALL the Starks be pocs. Headcanon or imagine the Tully looking Starks to be poc - now there’s something new!! Let darker skinned folks also be the most beautiful characters in the series! I am fine if there is standalone art of say Jon or Arya having darker skin or Jon being darker than Dany and vice versa where Dany is darker than Jon etc.

What’s racist is when the Starks are envisioned to be ‘Primitive’ by white artists and hence let’s draw these plain, homely, ugly members of the family in darker skin tones to contrast them to the brightly drawn and ‘normal’ Tully looking family members who are considered in the wider fandom and in the books by some characters to be very beautiful.

At this point, I think many fans have made it clear why these racist tropes in popular fanart is harmful and racist. And if people continue to draw, reblog and engage with these tropes then they are clearly comfortable being racist. That’s the only conclusion I can draw from this nonchalance about racist fanart in this fandom.

#Asoiaf #Racism #fandom racism #Arya Stark #Jon Snow #Ned Stark #House Stark #Racist depictions in fanart

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krnsluvvie · 9 months

Text

love at first, love at second, love at last

dos: ¡ayúdame! (+ wc: 0.9k)

SUMMARY: sae had chosen his career and that was shortly followed by his and y/n's separation. three years pass by and amongst all the lurking and stalking each other's socials, sae is suddenly found back in their hometown. old feelings are resurfaced, current ones are questioned and a whole load of future ones are found in a blur.

uno | masterlist | tres

“where are we going?” you ask as you, kurona and isagi meet up at your usual place—behind the school building. it's been a habit ever since you met in middle school; routinely meeting up to discuss every single thing that came to your mind.

your best friends were also football freaks and there was no way of avoiding it—especially with them. they used to drag you to their matches, forcing you to cheer for them. but was it really forcing when you enjoyed their plays and wanted them to win each time? (and beat up the losers that made isagi get a yellow card but that’s beside the point).

their eyes always sparkled with such joy and, if you squinted, hunger… for the game... for the win. you never really understood it; it almost felt too pathetic. maybe it was the lack of your understanding for the sport but you could never envision it as a source of happiness although it can come and be found in many forms but hey, to each their own.

this rather head-scratching curiosity, phenomenon even, brings you back to the first time you ever asked sae about this.

“hey?”

“mmh?” he hummed as he worked on his homework, his other hand resting on your knee.

“does football mean something to you?” the question made him stop in his tracks. you felt as if you had angered him and quickly rushed to add, “ehhh, i-i mean something special…like, does it mean the world to you…?”

sae briefly chuckled before he went back to writing. “it means a lot to me, but definitely not the “world” that you're talking about.”

you smiled then, cheeks flushing and a hand itching for his touch.

you feel bitterness in your mouth as you realize that the moment you cherished for so long turned out to be a lie as he left you the very next day after getting scouted by the spanish football club. not even an ounce of hesitation, not even a look back. you tried to be understanding, offering a long distance relationship. however, all you got from him was: “i don’t feel the spark between us anymore.”

“earth to y/n!!!”

“yooooo~~~~!”

you blink once, twice and your vision comes back to you.

“sorry, what were you saying?”

kurona rolls his eyes and grabs both your and isagi's wrists, dragging you two behind him. “i wanted to go to this new fancy restaurant but i guess we're stuck going to mcdonald's.”

“pft, it's not like isagi was gonna afford it anyway.” you joke, sticking a tongue out at the boy in question as he turns to you, a scandalous expression on his face. “now, who said i was paying?”

“kurona.”

“y/n.”

you and kurona look at each other, your eyes turning into slits.

isagi's eyes slide over you, then to kurona and deeply, deeply sighs. “i could be utilizing this time better by–”

“yes,” you straighten your back. “we get it.”

kurona nods his head. “funnily enough, i was thinking the same thing!”

you give them both the finger. “should've stayed with your teammates then.”

“noooo~ y/n, we didn't mean it.”

“forgive us.”

you sigh and bite your lips as a big grin threatens to spread on your lips.

they play around too much. you throw your backpack at them. “choose a seat, i'll go order for us.”

“y/n…”

“i always knew you were different from the rest…”

you roll your eyes and punch them both in the shoulder. “go.”

“yessir.” kurona and isagi say in unison before they dash off into the place.

you enter shortly behind them. the smell of reused and burnt oil over and over again hits your nostrils. it makes you almost nauseous but you can't deny the childhood memories that this exact smell brought you.

a few minutes pass as you wait for your order. you always get the usual: twenty-piece nuggets with three sauces, a generous amount of fries and unmistakably large drinks to get the intestines working.

you check your phone.

no notifications.

“order 127?” the guy behind the counter calls out. you wave with your receipt at him as you grab the tray from his hands. “enjoy.” he adds with a warm smile and you thank him under your breath.

three large drinks were not a joke to carry around especially if you didn't find a good balance.

as you make your way towards the table–after you scanned it many times–your mind is too preoccupied with not letting the drinks spill over–or worse, drop the drinks on the ground–that you bump into a sturdy chest.

your eyes widen and your mouth drops.

so much for wanting to be careful.

the drinks spill all over the ground. but that's not the worst thing coming out from this commotion: it's the stranger's white t-shirt.

“i'm so sorry, i wasn't–”

you look up and your face visibly pales. maybe there were worse things.

out of all the places, out of all the mcdonald's in the city, out of all the times in the day–of course you had to meet him here and now.

“hi, y/n.” a wide grin spreads on his face as he tilts his head, not giving a single fuck about the stain on his tee. (you can't help but think it's deserved in its own way.)

you compose yourself, ignoring the soda seeping into your pants. your school uniform is visibly drenched at the hem but that is the least of your worries.

“shidou.”

tag list: @kiopanxp @funtuki @silly-ez @asteroskoniiii

#blue lock #blue lock au #sae itoshi #itoshi sae #blue lock imagines #blue lock scenarios #itoshi sae smau #smau #social media au

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diacripticcomplex · 4 months

Note

I saw your yandere fic and I was wondering if I could request the same but this time with Shu but like no smut I prefer more blood and gore if that's oks w you. Thanks!

Shu’s POV:

Sigh...I did not want to be in the game room with all these loud idiots but I was dragged in. I sat back on the chair, I closed my eyes but even with my eyes closed I could envision everything perfectly. It was Subaru's turn, throwing darts, he wasn't too bad at it..if he worked on his form he would've done better, I opened one of my eyes for a brief moment to observe his form..good, that was much better. He got a bullseye in one shot. I close my eyes again. I didn't care much to play or even watch but sometimes I like to observe. "Since we're all here, maybe we should play a game together?" even with my eyes closed I could tell which annoying mouth that came from, Laito of course. "What do you say Ayato?" he asked his even more annoying triplet. "what will I get when I beat all your sorry asses?" he asked with much confidence in his voice, he's so irritating..."The prize will be Little bitch~ You don't mind right Shu?" Laito chirped, he said my name but I didn't really pay attention to what he was saying. I just stared blankly at him. "What? No way, I'm with Shu. I can't be the prize." The prey said, 'I'm with Shu." How hilarious, she's not with me. I haven't even defiled her man eater lower body yet...

"So are you in Shu?" one of them asks me I don't even care to acknowledge who. "No, it's a pain I can do without.." I mumbled. I heard a scoff from Reiji. "I figured you would postulate that sort of statement, he's a good for nothing deadbeat, if you look up the word spineless in a dictionary you would see a picture of him right beside the definition." ouch, Reiji always says such hilariously crude things, regardless I have to show him who's the eldest after all. I get up. "Fine I'll play.." I say. Much to everyone's shock, they're so dramatic it's not that serious, just doing some humbling to my younger siblings. I get in my form, I've always been good at darts...even taught my old human friend how to play..great times. I focused and landed 3 darts into the bullseye. "No way, this bastard actually won??" Ayato whined, Laito awed in amazement. "No fair!" Kanato cried, "Well I guess he is the eldest after all.." Subaru commented. Reiji said nothing, what could he say..? Losers can't talk.

"Shu I'm so glad you won, congra-" she began to say, what a slut..she wanted to be the prize afterall, she wanted me to fight for her, it's rather pathetic but I will make my point clear and instill this into the minds of all my annoying brothers. I grabbed her wrist and turned her, pressing myself up against her back. Of course she began being problematic and moving around so much trying to break free, but I held her firmly, I took one of the darts and held it to her eye. "Make another move and I'll poke your little eye out.." I gently tell her, meaning it. I wouldn't mind gouging out her eyeball and crushing it under my foot..."You were excited to be made the prize for this, weren't you..?" She squirmed and tried to deny it, its honestly pointless. "Shu what are you doing?! Don't engage in such filth down here..!" Reiji nagged, I smirk at all of them. "Hush now, losers can't talk.." I remarked, then glided my tongue on her nape, she was so hot her skin was practically steaming, she was getting turned on by this..? Dirty girl. I won't complain. "No..please let go..!!" she kept panicking, well it was now or never, I bit into her flesh. And it tasted like nothing I have ever tasted before...it was like a hot meal on a cold day, it felt life changing.

I think it was the fear and embarrassment she felt, that's why her blood tasted so good, she definitely wasn't like other prey. I understand now why she was brought to us. Well brought to me. After tasting this blood, I don't think I will be passing her to my brothers, I don't understand why I feel this way..I couldn't care less about any of the sacrificial brides before, but this one...I want to defile her, break her body and suffocate her in a world of pain and despair. I noticed her clenching her silly little rosary. "No ones coming to save you." I whispered in her ear, then teleported us into my room. Her blood is like a drug, I want more and more of it.

This blood was giving me energy to do so many things to this body of hers..I take the knife from my nightstand and press to her cheek. “Take off your clothes” I tell her, “no..! I can’t do that!” She yelled, her disobedient yells were irritating me. I took the knife and sliced her clothes off. She quickly covered herself with her hands, her undergarments looked pathetic, lacked so much sex appeal, you’d think she’d have better undergarments, being the slut she is.. “Please Shu…don’t do this..” she cried, that wasn’t a bad face, I liked her crying face it was contoured with a hidden lust. I slice her chest, lightly and so much blood poured out, I lapped it up. She kept trying to fight me so I took the knife and stabbed right through her wrist and the scream that came with it was delightful, I could listen to her screams all day…she let out her tears and cried uncontrollably at this. “Take it out..! Please it hurts so much..!” She panted out. I rip the knife out her wrist which gave her even more pain but I did what she wanted. I lick the knife, then proceed to drinking the blood from her impaled wound on her wrist. Yea she’s not going anywhere…

#diabolik lovers #diabolik boys #dialovers #yui komori #diabolik brothers #diahell #shu sakamaki #shu x yui #yandere #manga and anime #manga panel #gore #blood #vampire #haunted dark bridal

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awaywiththefaeries120408 · 3 months

Text

Lu Ten honestly fascinates me

Standard disclaimer that this post will be a load of gloop.

I feel like with most fictional characters I encounter, even if they don’t exist in the story itself, there’s enough information for readers to form a somewhat overall personality for them. Even if said personality isn’t what the creator envisioned, we can forge different characters their own personalities based on how they behave in flashbacks, how they’re remembered etc.

But Lu Ten… he draws a blank. I can’t ‘see’ his personality.

Part of my problem, I think, is my inability to ‘see’ another character. Iroh, or General Iroh as I’ll refer to him prior to Lu Ten’s death. I feel like knowing and understanding General Iroh is a key part to better understanding Lu Ten, just like how we can see how Ozai’s personality shaped the personalities of Zuko and Azula. General Iroh is an enigma to me. I know he existed, but I can’t see him. Was he just another Ozai, but less cruel and power-hungry? Did he simply fight out of a sense of duty? What wisdom and teaching did he pass to his son?

General Iroh is only one part of the story though. Lu Ten had a mother. Did she have an affect on his personality like Ursa did for Zuko? What about other influences? Ozai, Azulon, Ursa?

Someone once said you could headcanon basically anything you want with Lu Ten and I agree. He’s simultaneously fascinating and empty to me.

#lu ten #avatar the last airbender #fire nation #iroh #ozai #zuko #azulon #atla azula #ursa #general iroh

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entomolog-t · 7 months

Note

I know you’re swamped with many g/t tropes but i have to know:

One of my favorite g/t tropes is when the tiny gets sacrificed to the giant. What are your thoughts on that?

*Kicks down the door*

Dr. Ento is back Baby.

This is certainly an interesting trope, though certain aspects of it need to be expanded upon for me to have a firm grasp on the scenario.

Moving forward I am going to be making assumptions about the trope. If I am off base, please feel free to book a follow up appointment at your earliest convenience.

My main assumption moving forward are that this is not a "true sacrifice" scenario involving death.

Though the context of the preferred sacrifice can be deeply insightful

Are they sacrificed to appease a caring and gentle giant who does not want these sacrifices other than to rescue them?

Does the giant normally eat/kill the sacrifices and they are the exception for whatever reason?

Are they being sacrificed for any particular reason (atonement, being unwanted etc...) ?

All of these scenarios likely have some subconscious imagery that would be very telling to explore.

As per normal, we also should analyze where you see yourself - as the giant or the tiny?

For example, seeing oneself as a benevolent giant taking pity on a tiny thief who was caught and offered up as a sacrifice could show the way you value forgiveness and understanding- if you pay particular attention to the traits you would assign to said tiny, you would likely find some projected traits that you yourself may want to be forgiven for as well (either by others or by yourself). Normally this is a bit more subtle than "They are a thief, I want to be forgiven for stealing"- you may assign the thief a cold personality, or make them untrusting, or give them a past that closely reflects part of your own.

Seeing the tiny as the exception to the sacrifice could imply that the tiny exemplifies something you deeply desire or cherish in yourself.

The giant being awestruck with the tinys beauty could be a longing for someone to show you special attention or infatuation. Perhaps the tiny escapes, and it is their nerve/skills that captivate the giant. You may wish for others to see you as brave and capable, and what better way to concentrate that fantasy than having those traits recognized by someone of magnitude.

Being the more cruel giant yourself could allude to a power fantasy- a yearning to be feared. While this may sound cruel on the surface often times it is a subconscious defense- if others are scared of you, you yourself are safe from harm (context dependent obviously.) Wanting that kind of fear in others could be a projection of the fear that has been instilled in you in some way/shape or form.

Another take could be that it is your subconscious expressing feelings of isolation and ostracization that you face in your day to day. Even if you envision yourself as the tiny, try to think of what traits you typically assign to the giant. Are they traits that you can see reflected in yourself? Further dissect those that ring true, especially with what you might feel misunderstood with; Being loud, scary, too friendly, too cold etc...

Sacrifice in and of itself is a strong metaphor that for the most part is universally understood; giving something up. Now I could expand on this, as there is a great beauty in sacrifice, but for the sake of time I will stick with the simple definition. This trope (under the aforementioned assumptions) subverts the expectation of the sacrifice. Something is not given up- because a part of us (or perhaps a vision of someone you know) is being sacrificed and the object of the sacrifice is choosing that the sacrifice itself is of more value than what it is being sacrificed for- in short, it has worth.

Sacrifice tropes very often deal with massive amounts of fearplay and trust, as do so many of our beloved g/t tropes, but it is this metaphor of worthiness that I see as the most poignant part- what truly sets this trope apart from others.

I hope you enjoyed our session today, please take the time to further dissect the aspects of what entices you about this trope for more insight on your personal psyche.

----

My secretary is just right outside the office. We accept cash, credit and Canadian Tire Money as form of payment. I look forward to seeing you at our next appointment.

#YO I AM BACK AT THESE #I MISSED THESE SO MUCH #THERE ARE SOME DOOZIES IN THE INBOX #g/t #giant/tiny #g/t community #g/t shitpost #g/t tropes #G/t trope psychology

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madameaug · 5 months

Text

Promise Me || Bucky x Black Reader

Synopsis: This occurs maybe about a year after the events of Captain America: Civil War. The reader is a black woman and should be imagined as such :) Bucky is 37, and the reader is ideally 32/33.

Very angsty (reader and bucky are getting a divorce). Not edited at the moment. First non-BTS imagine/fic so I'm super nervous. I love Marvel too <3

I didn't think forever for us would end so soon. Four years seemingly going down the drain. Two years of dating, eight months of engagement, and barely a year of marriage. I felt like I was giving up. Quitting. Like I wasn't honoring my vows.

Til death do us part.

But when I took those vows I believed I was giving them to James Buchanan Barnes. Who I lovingly refer to as Bucky. A man a slightly older than me, but didn't look a day over thirty. He was the man that I envisioned as a little girl marrying.

A man who was tall, easy on the eyes, with a look of danger, but a heart of gold. Bucky had the perfect mix of both. A veteran turned firefighter. He risked his life daily, saving those in a life-or-death situation. He was second chances, personified for these people. He was a light of hope in the darkness of succumbing to a burning fate. He was a hero.

A hero.

A hero more in the literal sense than what I could have possibly imagined.

Bucky Barnes wasn't a thirty-seven-year-old man who was technologically challenged. Not a man who liked listening to music artist from the 1930s. He was sophisticated and romantic.

Doll was his favorite name to call me. Initially, I thought he was just trying to hard not to use generic pet names like 'baby' or 'bae'. Or that maybe his fascination with the olden days carried into his pet names for his girlfriends. But now I wish the truth was that easy and simple to understand. It didn't involve decades of high-profile assassinations and the bringing down of governments.

One man could bring down an entire government regime.

And that man, is my husband?

My James?

My Bucky?

The man sitting across from me in this stuffy monochrome conference room. Well the conference room was quite large. It's just the tension was sucking out any air circulation.

When I took my vows to James Barnes, I hadn't realized I said them to this 'Winter Soldier' to. A man wanted by hundreds of countries for international crimes that date back to the Kennedy administration. A man hunted down by the Black Panther for killing the king of the most powerful nation.

No, surely there was a mistake.

But I would be foolish to argue with evidence. Pictures of his stalky figure I curled up to several times at night. Blue eyes were the portals to his true thoughts. Shoulder-length hair I raked my fingers through mindlessly when listening to him recount his twelve-hour shift at the station. His wardrobe wasn't anything special, which explains why he could slip under the radar for so long.

That was him. He was responsible but not at the same time. Fourteen hours after being interrogated by Maria Hill, I better understood the double life Bucky The Winter Soldier had been living. Believed to be dead by the Allies, he was held hostage by Karpov, who brainwashed him and tortured him until he became the Winter Soldier. Breaking his mind, and piecing him back together to become he perfect killing machine in human form.

Helmut Zemo managed to get his hands on the book containing the words that activate the Winter Solider. He awakened the monster and manipulated him into the bombings that killed King T'Chaka. He used the Winter Solider to effectively divide and dissolve the Avengers. Zemo was responsible for taking away the Bucky that I knew. The hero.

"I'm glad you and your client could be civil and agree to our demands." Your lawyer, Jennifer Walters, spoke. You and Bucky's lawyer had been talking for twenty minutes, but you couldn't focus on their legal jargon. You were tuned out, tracing your steps on how you and Bucky were sitting in this office. On the opposite end of the table, staring at each other as if we'd become opponents. No longer players on the same team.

Bucky's eyes dragged across to scan Jennifer's face. In his heart he held no misplaced hatred for the woman. She was a professional doing her job, representing the interest of her client. He didn't spend long reading the lists of things that you wanted from the marriage.

The house was yours, he wouldn't dare try to live in that house if you weren't there. It wasn't good for him to stay in open spaces, for too long it freaked him out.

Most of your demands were reasonable and he put up no fight. He didn't want to fight with you. When he finally got his head on straight, he wanted to explain his disappearance. He wanted to be the first person to tell you about the Soviets and the Winter Soldier Program. He wanted to tell you about the bad things that he's done, but his memory was a jigsaw puzzle with missing pieces. He wasn't sure if you would believe him, until he had all the pieces. When he did come across a piece, he was scared that it would show more harm than he did.

Confirming his belifs that he wasn't worthy of a second chance. That he could find happiness living a solo mundane life. Even with his slow aging, he could blend in his environment and live a good life. He would keep intact what little of his humanity he had left. But after Zemo got his hands on him again that little sliver of his humanity was gone. He was a tool designed for slaughter and destruction. Becoming a firefighter saving people wouldn't undo all the lives he took. Marrying you, the love of his life, wouldn't give him the normalcy he sought. He was reminded of that every time he looked down and saw the metal arm. The brute strength granted him the ability to kill with ease. The same metal arm that would now be a reminder of everything he was getting ready to lose with his wife.

The lawyers summarized the documents, and everything signed up to this point. The deed to the house, papers to change your last name, insurance paperwork, everything was discussed. Bucky even took it upon himself to hand you his 401k from firefighting.

Never had the lawyers seen a divorce proceeding go so smoothly. Usually, they have to clear out the rest of their calendars for divorce calendars. Would today be the day that they get out before the late lunch rush? Oh, let it be true.

Jennifer was smart in her word choice. Avoiding the emotional minefields that the couple has. The room was somber, as you shared your emotional hardships. Dealing with the sudden disappearance of your husband. Preparing for a funeral without a body, dreading adopting the label as a widower. Becoming behind on the mortgage and personal family issues flaring up.

Even though it was emotionally heavy, it was easy to formulate the words. You thought long and hard about what you wanted to say. However, you didn't truly have the words for the physical hardship, which was much more challenging to hide. Your right wrist in a sling. A fracture of the ulna and three smaller bones. The one place Bucky has been fighting with himself not to look.

From an instance of right place, wrong time. It would be your first time revealing the details of your broken wrist out loud. Even when Jennifer asked, you were short with your explanation. But looking at Bucky for probably the last time, you were moved by emotion. Emotions of hurt, frustration, and sorrow.

"I see that you haven't signed the restraining order." You gathered your tone to sound as unemotional and far removed as possible.

"Why?"

"I'm not signing it."

The tension in the room deepens as this is the first time you have directly spoken to Bucky. Your lawyers were doing a lot of the communicating for you.

He didn't want to word vomit his emotions and potentially mispeak. Widening the divide between the two. So he opted to sit in silence, letting his heartbreak in silence. Divorce from the only woman he ever loved was going to take a lifetime to heal. On top of that, a restraining order would send him to an early grave.

"What? I thought you agreed to all of our terms."

"That's why I wanted to talk in person. I cant get myself to agree to this. I can't."

Bucky sat across from you with a plea in his eyes. He didn't want to let go of the connection he spent four years building with you. His heart and mind fought each other for days when he got the divorce paperwork. His heart wanted to fight for the marriage. Fight for the sacred union yall made in front of your friends and family. Fight for the love he knew deep down that you still had for him. But his mind hit him with the harsh truth. You weren't safe around him. Having all these enhanced abilities, having this metal arm could protect you. That it wasn't a curse, but a blessing in disguise.

But that wasn't true. And his brain reminded him of that fact with a mental image of your arm in the sling.

It was before Steve managed to track down Bucky's coordinates to that apartment building. When he was still hiding in plain sight. You just happened to be there. Browsing different vendors, as it was the city was hosting a market.

Bucky was right beside you, you knew his scent from anywhere. And the fact that his head slightly turned in your direction, upon calling him confirmed it.

"Buck is that you?"

You raised a hand to touch his face. "It's me. Remember?" His metal hand gripped yours tightly. His hand clapped down on your wrist, leaving you at the mercy of his strength.

You attempted to snatch your hand back. Eyes swelled with tears, as the pain was escalating. Buck remained silent, as he twisted your wrist, to an almost 180 point.

"STOP IT! JAMES STOP!" Your shriek brought unnecessary attention to him. In a frustrated grunt, he huffed before completing the snap. He walked off into the crowd without looking back at you. Those eyes that were the portals to reading his mind was closed. There was nothing behind those eyes. Even in the presence of his wife, his eyes didn't change. I was a stranger. A stranger that he could very easily hurt with little provocation.

Holding onto your broken wrist you were soon comforted by a stand manager. He got you up on your feet and walked you in the direction of the nearest medical aid.

"Please, Bucky. Let this be a clean break. It's for the best."

"The best for who?" His voice a mixture of frustration and vulnerability. "I've been through a lot. We've been through a lot. I want to fight for us. This restraining order snuffs out any chance of us rekindling this."

"We've changed Bucky. The world has changed. I need a fresh start, and I think you need one too."

"You are my fresh start. Don't you see!?" Bucky couldn't go into much detail. His lawyer was unaware of his assassin's past. He was more skeptical than ever about what details he shared about his personal life. Lawyer, doctor, psychiatrist or not. There could be more Zemo's looking to play puppet master with his mind.

"Think about your safety."

The lawyers attempt to mediate. They could sense that something was being left out of the conversation. Something that was connected to your arm in the sling. You were standing firm in your position to sever any ties to Bucky. This was the best decision for the both of you.

Bucky didn't have to worry about his superhero work trickling into his personal life. Not having to worry if some vengeful villain would come searching for you, and harm you to even out the score with Bucky. It was just another concern that didn't have to cloud his mind.

While you wouldn't have to worry about Bucky not coming back home. Getting the news from SHIELD agents that Bucky had died protecting the world from some global threat. The heartache would be too much.

"This is getting us nowhere. Did you and your client really come here to waste our time?"

"Mr. Barnes is just as entitled to getting all of his demands met.

The lawyers started bickering. The couple with actual grounds of argue sitting in silence. You spoke up first, your raised voice silencing the room.

"I'm not asking you to change who you are. I know you've been through a lot. And it is a lot." You reached your hand out to grasp his. You wanted to convey that your heart was full of love for Bucky. You could see a broken and scared man in front of you. A man with more skeletons in his closet than you would like to imagine. But you loved him. And with that love, you had to make the tough choices for both of you.

"You need space and time to collect yourself. Fight those battles in your mind. Get better and heal."

A singular tear runs down your cheek and hits the wooden table as you continue spilling your heart out.

"I love you. I love all of you, and I forgive you. You were unwell and need true help. As much as I want to remove that pain from you, I know that I can't. My love isn't enough. Sometimes love requires letting go. Let me go. Please."

"Even when I was sick, I still had dreams of you. I couldn't make out your face, but I found myself reliving our dates. The time I took you to the drive-thru movies. You said I made you feel like you were in high school again. Or the time I accidentally used all your leave in conditioner on wash day.

Then I started dreaming of a family with you. Raising mini versions of ourselves away from the chaos my life brought. The woods were our backyard, and we were happy. With you I was happy. I still want to make that dream a reality. I'm willing to give up anything to ensure our future."

You listened to his plea. You could tell he was genuine. He would if he could give up his enhanced abilities to be with you. No doubt about it. However, you knew that Bucky was meant for something greater. When he was a soldier who fought the good fight. He was destined to be a hero. A would-be alongside Captain America, fighting threats the world doesn't know about. Ensuring that we live in a world, where us regular people wouldn't have to.

"I can't be the reason you give that up, Buck." You said gently. "It's a part of who you are. Even when you've made mistakes, I've seen you try to right your wrongs. That's the Bucky I know, the hero."

The room was silent again filled with emotion. Bucky had to come to terms that yall were on different paths. Two paths diverged into a left and right. That even under the premise of love, you were right. Bucky was too vulnerable. It wasn't the first time something like this had happened. The Winter Soldier was an ugly part of him that he had to live with. He has to make room for that identity instead of pretending it never existed.

He would be working with Steve and Sam Wilson on hunting down any of the remaining Winter Soldiers. He was thrusting himself into danger. Danger that he didn't want you to be apart of, danger that he felt responsible to end.

You leaned over to whisper in Jennifer's ears. Maybe the restraining order was too much. You were making a rash decision that you may come to regret in the future. Jennifer following the request of her client, placed the restraining order papers in the shredder.

"My client had a change of mind." She stood up packing up all the signed papers in her briefcase.

"Well all the paperwork is signed, our work is done here."

The divorce meeting came to a close and both parties went their separate ways. There you stood discussing the next steps with Jennifer. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Bucky alone. He waited at the bottom of the stairs.

Jennifer took her cue to dismiss herself. With your eyes low, you carefully walked down the courthouse steps to stand before Bucky.

"Promise me we will find a way back to each other."

"I can't promise that Bucky. And you shouldn't make promises you can't keep."

"I would keep that promise. I would stake my life on it." He brought your left hand to his chest. Your wedding ring still on your finger. You hadn't thought about when you would take it off.

"Promise me." His lips were a few inches away from yours. Your eyes were conversing in another language of their own. Saying their goodbyes, and final 'I love yous.'

You brought Bucky into your arms. Arms wrapping around his shoulder as you cried silently to yourself. Bucky tightened his arms around you, his warms rubbing circles in your back. A hypnotizing pattern that would put you to sleep. It was settling over the both of you that this could be the last time that you held one another like this.

You let go of the hug first. Your hand on his chiseled face again. This time not worried that he would harm you again.

"I love you." You laid a tender kiss on his lips. Capturing your affection and goodbyes.

"Promise me." Bucky spoke during the kiss. "Promise me Doll."

You placed your thumb over his lip. You looked deep into his eyes. He was hanging onto every word that you said. Bucky's phone rings, breaking the staring contest you had. To no ones surprise, Steve was on the other end. A bitter reminder of the double life that Bucky was apart of.

"I need to hear you say it."

"I promise."

Bucky leaves a passing kiss on your lips before walking away from the courthouse. He picked up the phone, walking with haste. In a few short seconds, a red-headed woman joined him on his side.

My hero.

My Bucky.

#black writers #marvel x black!reader #bucky x reader #bucky x black!reader #bucky barnes #marvel imagine #captain america civil war #winter soldier #x black reader #x black fem reader #madameaug #angst #marvel angst #black woman x bucky barnes

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humming-pokemon-helpers · 15 days

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[It's a video! The one filming, as usual, seems to be Cross, who voices a low, electric "whoaaaaaaaa" as she films the legendary Reshiram, from its talons to the crest of its fluffy head. The dragon seems to be at rest, fluffing out its wings before the camera settles back at its feet on the three people in the room, standing tensely.

Two of them stand together--Tula, and presumably Vanilla, facing Vision in garishly purple robes. Tula's hand rests at her hip, where her sword sits, but Vanilla's position is a bit more diplomatic, hands open in front of them as if to negotiate. Even so, Tula speaks first.

"Where's your boss, Miss Ghetsis Wannabe."

"Boss?" Vision sneered. "He needs me more than I could possibly need him. He's off working on his special little machine, though. Apologies for disappointing you, little grunt."

Before Tula can bite back, Vanilla jumps in.

"So, to be perfectly clear... your plan is to use Reshiram to force people to release their Pokémon. While you have Reshiram captured. And you're saying you're better than Ghetsis was, because...?"

Vision shakes her head. "Hmph. Reshiram and I formed a bond of trust far before I captured them to ensure our plans could succeed. And I intend to give them their freedom, too. Is it truly so hard to understand that without Pokéballs, Pokémon could still choose to spend their time around humans? Or is that the only way you can envision your bond? As captor and captive? It would be one thing if all Pokémon chose to join their trainers before being captured, but can you say without a singular doubt that there aren't Pokémon trapped and abused in the current system? If it takes the fire of truth to bring about justice, then so be it!"

"Justice? Don't talk about justice when your 'plan' is going to hurt and kill innocent people and Pokémon!" Vanilla reaches for the sword at his own hip. Negotiations were through.

"If your idea of justice is so perfect, then you can burn with the people you're defending!"

At a swish of Vision's wrist, Reshiram flexes the length of its entire wings, a thrumming noise and a steadily increasing heat filling the room as it activates its Turboblaze. The camera-Pokémon moves closer to her trainer, as she fumbles trying to pick a Pokéball from her waist and hold her sword steady.

They whisper to their partner. "Tula, you should..."

She shakes her head, rejecting the thought of fleeing before it's even finished. "...I'm supposed to protect you."

As the ground, ceiling, and even Cross shake with the force of the charged power, though, the notably absent member of the fight appears with a flash and a Beheeyem, yelling loud enough to overcome the noise.

"In the name of-- do none of you care of what would happen if the ceiling collapsed in on you all, here?!"

Both Vanilla and Vision's fur stands on end. Tula pivots and breathes deep, holding tight to her own sword as Vision responds, her voice cold but even.

"Colress. I have this under control."

"We have an agreement, Vision. Our tools aren't yet prepared. The emotions. The setting... These are far from the ideal experimental conditions. Bide your time."

As Vision grumbles, and as he backs off from the impending attack, Colress gestures at the 'visitors'.

"Now, Beheeyem. Show our guests out, would you?"

As Tula steels herself and lunges at the scientist, yelling something along the lines of "Don't you fucking dare, you fucking--", the camera flashes with blinding light, and the surroundings change from the crumbling ruins of a castle to a lush forest. There's the distinct sound of a thud against the earth, the cry of a Beheeyem, and something hard and plastic hitting the ground before Cross reorients herself to the scene just in time to see Colress's Beheeyem teleport away, and Vanilla rushing to help Tula off of the ground.

"Shit. That must've hurt... are you okay, babe?"

Tula peels herself off of the ground with a sharp intake of breath.

"Yeah... I'm... It's all my fault, I couldn't..."

"No no no," Vanilla assured as a few Zorua wandered over to assess the scene. "You did amazing. We just need to figure out how to deal with that Beheeyem..."

One of the Zorua--the yellow eyes suggest Vanilla's nephew, Bach--nudges over a worn Luxury Ball.

"Huh? What is..."

Vanilla picks up the Pokéball, and the video ends.]

//tagging @plasmaapologist for Tula !

#pzzt! uploaded by cross!#pokeblogging #pkmn irl #high stakes pokeblogging #a vision in the mirror #tw violence #tw threats #tw death mention #ask to tag #long post

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sassykattery · 1 year

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Rites and Rituals, Pt. 4

Welcome to Part 4

CW: MC is afab, uses she/her pronouns. MC is a demon and poly. Use of gendered spousal and titled words toward reader [princess, queen, wife]. *Smut scene: mirror sex, dom reader for a little bit, choking, then sub reader, creampie, some praise/reassurance fluff.

Themes: Romance. Wedding. Sex. DiavoloxMC. Fluff.

Characters: [new oc] Nyx, MC="you", Diavolo

Minors and ageless blogs DNI

18+ only

Masterlist

Enjoy

"Good afternoon, Mistress MC, I'll be the designer for your gowns," the demon before you said. They were the top designer from Majolish, and Diavolo had them outsourced for you. Nyx was a tall, slender lust demon and genderfluid, so they were androgynous in overall body shape, with russet brown skin and deep amber eyes. Their short sky-blue hair quaffed over one side of their face, slightly curled at the ends. Nyx was beautiful and well-dressed as a top designer should be.

You two were in the upstairs office of Majolish, surrounded by designs, walls of fabrics, and more shoes than a person could know what to do with.

"Ah, it's nice to meet you, Nyx. I have several drawings here for you, and we can collaborate on a final design," you said, sliding some papers over to them.

"Ah! Wonderful," Nyx said. "It's not often I'm placed with somebody who already knows what they want. So, you need four gowns then, yes? Two for each ceremony?"

"Yes, I want one for each ceremony and reception," you replied.

Nyx took your binder and began sorting through your ideas. "Excellent. Well, based on your drawings, I think I can certainly work with what you have envisioned. Tell me, mistress, what are you thinking for the vibe you'd like to have?"

You pulled out your wedding binders for each wedding, describing in great detail what you had envisioned, and then showed pictures of everything you had come up with so far. Nyx was impressed.

"My, my, MC, you are something. I do believe you and I will work well together on this. Shall we go ahead and start pinning fabrics so I may get to know your body shape better?" You nodded and the two of you got to work.

"Might I see your demon form for this? I need to fit the gowns around your wings," Nyx asked. You phased into it as asked, and they continued pinning fabrics onto you. Then they chuckled.

"What is it?" You asked nervously.

"Ah, you'll have to excuse me. I see now why you're considered the most tempting being in the Devildom," they replied.

"I'm what?" You inquired, confused.

"Dear, you didn't know? Even as a human, I knew about your presence, and when I saw you in the store here with Asmodeus, I couldn't help but agree. As a demon now? You're just as irresistible. Lord Diavolo and Lucifer are quite lucky indeed," Nyx stated. They continued measuring and pinning as they spoke. "You see, for most of us demons, we come in a variety of sizes, colors, and heights, and our perception of beauty is quite different from humans. But we all still look quite the same: muscular, tall, fit, it's how we are able to do our jobs as demons, and live in general. Humans are intriguing, how soft and fragile they can be. All of us are beguiled by you in particular, as you still appear as you did as a human."

Though your vanity was soaring at their words, you couldn't help but feel embarrassed.

"I apologize if I offended you," Nyx said, seeing your expression and standing in your rapid silence.

"No! Sorry, no, not at all. I just... as a human, I didn't understand why I received as much attention as I did. Though now, it seems like it's calmed down since I'm a demon," you replied.

"Oh, that's because you're an Avatar and betrothed to not only the prince but also the most powerful brother. Though, there's something to be said about no longer having a soul everyone was pining for. Regardless, there will always be those who love you in secret, but now it will be rare for someone to try anything with you, lest they're actually that stupid," Nyx chuckled at the end. "And done, this will help me pattern all of your garments."

Carefully, Nyx pulled you out of your cocoon of fabrics and set it aside. "Now, let's get to work!" They said while clapping each syllable out.

"How was the design appointment?" Diavolo asked from his desk, still looking down at his papers.

"It went well, I liked Nyx a lot," you replied quietly.

"Ah, yes. Nyx actually designed many of the outfits in your closet," Diavolo stated.

You were silent, staring at the prince. A question weighed in your mind. Though he wouldn't have known it, the silence was heavy for you as you considered this idea.

"Do you miss me being human?"

The prince froze, processing your tone and question. He slowly put his papers down and looked up at you, noting your hands behind your back, knowing you were no doubt fiddling with your fingers in anxiousness. He beckoned you with his index finger. Complying, you came around his desk and sat on his awaiting lap. His hands planted firmly on your hips.

"What is troubling you?"

"I just couldn't help but wonder if you didn't fall in love with me because I was human and... different from what you normally encountered," you stated, trying to word it carefully.

Diavolo considered your words cautiously, wondering what it was you were really asking. Before answering, he needed more information.

"What's bringing this on?"

"Nyx said something about why I received more attention as a human than I do now as a demon," you replied. "It feels... objectifying. It sounds like I was being fetishized."

His gaze went askance momentarily before meeting yours again. "Your humanity is something I treasured, but you being human wasn't what made me fall in love with you, no," he answered slowly. "Now, I won't lie to you, there are those who simply saw you as an exotic; we are demons after all, and I'm not blind to what others have said about you." Giving it a bit more thought, he sighed. "Recently I asked Barbatos about this very thing, if things were not easier when you were human, but he helped me realize that I simply am not used to having a partner, not just a lover."

You looked just a smidge hurt by his words, and he rushed to console you. "I didn't mean to offend you, it was a moment of weakness I had, not because of anything you did. I'm not entirely used to being this close to anyone. Forgive me," he pleaded, taking your hand and pulling it to his chest. You nodded, understanding.

He looked you over and had an idea. "I think I could take a break, why don't you come with me?"

You hopped off his lap, and Diavolo led you by the hand, out of his office and into his bedroom. At the foot of his bed, he stopped and turned, holding your hands.

"Can I show you something?" He asked. You nodded.

Following his motions, he turned you around, so your back was to him. You heard a snap and a full-length mirror appeared in front of you. He nudged you forward just a tiny bit and stood behind you.

"My darling," he said in a low voice, "I think it's my duty to remind you of something."

You looked at each other through the mirror. His hands snaked their way around your waist, sliding down to your shirt hem, and then curling his fingers underneath to slowly pull it up. Instinctively, your arms went up, letting him take it all the way off. You watched as he continued to disrobe you, and when your pants and panties pooled around your feet, you gently kicked them away and stood bare before yourself and your betrothed.

"You see," he said, as he pushed himself directly behind you, so you could feel his voice rumbling in his torso against your back as he spoke, "I love every inch of this." He dragged a finger lightly across your collarbone, down your sternum, around your breasts, down your stomach, and then up your neck to stop at your lips before finally dropping his hand.

"There's not a day that goes by that I don't think about the first time we made love, after our first date. I was quite nervous, because I just wanted to please you," he stated, a smile gracing his lips. "And then when I saw all of you, completely naked below me, it was all I could do to not simply worship you." His hands then purchased your hips, his fingers digging into your plush flesh.

"I am most fond of that memory, because I always feel that same excitement when I see you, such as I do now, in all of your raw beauty before me, ad I am someone so undeserving of it," he continued.

His hands gracefully glided up your sides, coming around to your back and up your shoulders to rest at your biceps. "Yes, indeed, you were simply gorgeous as a human," he concluded. He whispered, "Now shift."

You shifted to your demon form as requested. "But this..." he said, his hands running down your wings, fingers grazing through your midnight blue feathers. "This is most beautiful to me. An immortal who strives for perfection, admiration, vanity, and accomplishment, I could think of no better fit for my wife and queen. So carefully and wonderfully made, how striking you look in this way." When his hands reached the base of your wings, where they met your skin, you shuddered, feeling the hot electricity coursing through your nerves.

"Close your eyes," he ordered. When you did, you heard another snap. "Now open," he said.

You opened your eyes to see in the mirror that Diavolo was in his demon form as well, and you could look and feel that he was fully nude now too. You collapse your wings, and he wrapped one arm around your torso, and his other hand took yours and held it out, as if you two were dancing, but standing still.

"One of my own kind, and so beautiful. You are truly unparalleled, princess, and I'll never again love another as I have loved you. We never have to say goodbye, we never have to part, and I can show you the limitlessness of my love for you," he murmured. He leaned down to your ear, "Understand?"

"Yes," you whispered in awe, watching his golden eyes as they watched your own.

*"Now," he muttered, "I'm afraid I can't let you go now. Both of us are standing here together like this..." He then nuzzled his head against yours. "I need you."

He left you to lie down, but when you turned you saw his head laying at the foot of the bed, he beckoned you over. Coming around, you climbed onto the bed and onto your lover, straddling his hips. His cock was hard and waiting for you.

"I want you to watch yourself as you ride me," he said with an ornery grin.

You looked up at the mirror ahead of you, and it was rather erotic to see yourself on top of the Demon Lord like this, both of you in your demon forms. Looking back down, you watched his expression as you slid yourself back, his cock gliding into your folds and rubbing against your clit. Your hands planted on his chest, you ground yourself into him, relishing the sensation of his cock, and then all at once you shifted forward and back to fully take him into your pussy.

"Ah, MC," he said, breathless. He brought up his hand to push your chin up, so you'd watch the mirror again. His hands went to your hips, guiding you into a rhythm that had you both panting.

You watched as your breasts bounced up and down, your hips rocking forward and back, over and over. Sitting up, you continued to rock yourself into sweet bliss with one hand placed on his lower abdomen to keep you steady. In this moment, you were sexy, riding the crowned prince of the Devildom, having him at your mercy. He was yours, and seeing you claim him like this drove something darker in you.

Keeping your head up, your eyes flitted down, looking at Diavolo over your nose. He noticed the change in demeanor, the dark lust and hunger in your eyes.

"You're mine, and always will be," you said to him in a smokey voice.

A smirk graced his lips, "All yours, my princess," he replied huskily.

"Better get used to calling me your queen," you said forcefully. Your hand shot down to his throat, causing you to lean over slightly, and you squeezed it.

"Ah-haha, MC," he tried to say. Diavolo rather liked this side of you, the demoness he suspected that lie in wait for a long time, burning to be let out of her cage within your mind.

"Try again," you demanded, lightly releasing your hold.

"My queen, I'm yours," he choked out. One of his hands left your hips and grabbed a hold of your arm that was extended to his neck.

"That's better," you said with a smirk of your own. Your hips rocked faster, chasing your pleasure. "Oh, my king," you purred. Now he moaned, hearing your words as you rode him harder. Your hold on his neck tightened again, and you looked up again at the mirror.

The sight before you sent you over the edge. It was erotic, to choke the prince and domineer for once. This was your vanity: to see satisfaction in yourself, as you took what you wanted, how you wanted, and you loved the power that coursed through you.

"Oh-ah, fuck, Dia-" you stammered, feeling the heat rise from your toes. Your internal coils were coming undone, and it was all you could do to stay upright as the fires of pleasure shot up your spine, tingling all the way up to your neck. A mindless scream escaped your lips, your cries echoing in the room. You released your hold on his throat and just tried to stay upright as you rode yourself into bottomless pleasure. Your partner helped by guiding your hips, thrusting himself into you.

"That's it, MC, my love, cum on me," he muttered to you. Your juices ran down your thighs and soaked his groin and the sheets below. A little whimper burned at your tongue, and your climax finally released you, letting you fall limp onto Diavolo.

"Mm, that was so good," he whispered into your hair, his hands carding through your hair and rubbing your upper back.

With his arms wrapped around you, he rolled you both over so that he was on top, and you two laid like that for a few moments as you calmed down some more.

Once your breathing evened out, he pulled himself up, looking down at your frame. "So perfect," he murmured, his lids lowered and eyes full of warm desire. He sat up onto his knees, pulling your legs around his hips. His hands started at your breasts, and drug their way up your limbs, wanting to feel all of you. Bringing one leg up over his shoulder, he hovered back over you and slid his cock into you once more, one arm holding him up above you. His thrusts were slow, gentle, easy.

It was his turn to look in the mirror ahead, and it was so hard for him to not lose control then, seeing where his cock was sliding in and out of you, or how you looked beneath him. You looked up through hazy eyes, watching him look up at the mirror. It was just as hot to you to look at him while he was transfixed on the image ahead. He truly was magnificent to you; unlike any person you'd ever met. Feeling more emotional now, your hand shot up to cup his face, causing him to look down at you again.

"I love you," you said breathlessly.

"And I love you, my queen," he murmured, smiling lustfully at you. He leaned down to kiss you sweetly, and when he pulled away, you saw a rather naughty thought run across his mind, giving way to his expression. His eyes flickered up to the mirror again and back to you.

"What is it?" you whispered.

"Turn over for me," he whispered in reply. He withdrew from you and held himself up over you.

You did as instructed, knowing what it was he wanted. Pulling your knees up, you lifted your ass into the air, and in the mirror ahead you could watch as Diavolo took in your body, displayed just so erotically for him. His eyes finally landed on yours, and that awful smirk gave way to a rather ominous smile that showed his fangs. Oh, is all you could think in that moment.

Once he positioned himself behind you, his hips snatched a hold of your hips in a grip so mean you'd think he was angry. His hard cock was rubbing against your pussy, the head resting just on your clit.

"Hands," he ordered.

You carefully laid your head down on the mattress, resting on one cheek, and reached both arms back. He snatched them into one hand, able to hold both in just one of his, keeping his other hand on your hip. He then pulled you up, the tension in your arms being connected with his was enough to keep your upper body up. You looked up into the mirror, and with no hesitation, he slipped his cock back inside of your cunt. He wanted to see your expression as he did so.

"Oh!" You whimpered.

"Look at me," Diavolo ordered. Your eyes flitted up to his. His lips curled to see your desperate face. "Let me show you what it means to be dominant," he stated. Your eyes widened, much to his pleasure.

He set a relentless pace of blowing your back out, his thrusts hard and brutal. With every hard smack of his hips against yours, you cried out in ecstasy. It was even more erotic to see it all happening before you in the mirror. How his large hand encapsulated both your own, the muscles in his arm flexed to hold you up. Or how with every slam of his hips, you shot forward, but not too far as he kept you close with his other hand on your hip. It all had you keening for more, your walls tightening with juices pouring over the backs of your thighs.

"You like this, don't you?" Diavolo chuckled. Your eyes flitted up to his dark and lustful golden ones.

"Y-Yes!" You stammered. He wasn't letting up.

"Now, do you believe me when I tell you," he grunted, "that I love you, and that there will never be another as precious to me?"

"Yes," you cried.

"Say it," he growled.

"I believe you!" You wailed as he drilled your cunt that much harder, throwing you into another fitful orgasm. Your whole body was rigid as the waves took over, with your walls becoming impossibly tight around his cock. He groaned to feel your cunt milking him for everything he had. It was more than enough to send him spiraling down the same chasm of pleasure, making him grunt and moan as he released inside of you.

He fell forward on top of you, wrapping an arm over your waist and abdomen to keep you slightly up. His labored breaths were hot on your neck, nuzzling his face into the back of your head and in your hair.

"I love you," he rasped, planting light kisses across your neck.

"I love you too," you whispered. He hummed and gently released you as you steadied yourself with your arms. Carefully, you lowered yourself down to the mattress, and he followed suit to partially lay on top of you, holding your back against his chest as he wormed his arm underneath you.

Feeling comfortable, warm, and cuddly, both of you drifted off into slumber, small smiles adorning your faces in blissful peace.

---

Thanks for reading! <3

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heyifinallyhaveablog · 5 months

Text

Eventualities

Fandom: Mahabharat (TV 2013) | The Mahabharata

Source: Draupadi-Satyabhaama Samvaad Parva

Prompt by: @chaanv

Note: This is a conversation between Krishna and Satyabhaama, after they return from their visit to the Pandavas in exile. While enlightened by Draupadi's love and devotion towards her husbands, Satyabhaama is still rattled by the events that had led to the exile. The portrayal of the characters and the conversation herein is entirely the author's perception of human behaviour, based on the chapter linked above.

Taglist: @chaanv , @vidhurvrika , @melancholicmonody, @bleedinknight, @ambidextrousarcher, @demonkidpliz

Caveat: Posting from my mobile since my laptop has taken a trip to hell.

_________

Satyabhaama feels a tranquil turbulence within her once she leaves the abode of the Pandavas. Her conversation with Panchaali has been a very detailed one. And her return to Dwaravati, is unusually contemplative.

“Do not worry for them, Satya,” Krishna’s voice drifts into her thoughts, almost as if it were one of them.

“It isn’t the Pandavas that I’m worried about, or even thinking about, for that matter.” Satyabhaama replies, in a voice louder than intended. Krishna knows better than to speak to his currently preoccupied spouse.

***

“I really don’t understand, Jiji,” she confides in Rukmini, on one of the following days, “her endurance is superhuman.”

“She really has sufferred more than you and I, Sister,” her sister-wife says, in a manner of resignation.

"Her circumstances are vastly different,” Rukmini continues, “much like Queen Damayanti of yore.”

So different, Satyabhaama thinks to herself.

***

“Would you have wagered any one of us, Arya?” she eventually asks Krishna, out of nowhere, on one of their nighttime walks in the gardens of their palace.

The answer is quite what she expects, silence.

Satyabhaama, for her part, is in no hurry. There are times when her husband is human, and just as vulnerable as anyone else on God’s green earth.

Krishna’s silence isn’t diplomatic. He knows that his favourite wife means to test him, and hurt him in the process, even if He had been the saviour. As if it were on her to exact the answers for Draupadi -

-Questions that were still unanswered.-

“What answer would you wish for me to provide, My Queen?” Satyabhaama feels cornered, probably betrayed, in her own game, by her own hand.

Trust The Trickster to come up with a battle of wit!, she thinks.

“You seem to tergiversate, Husband,” she says sternly.

Another jibe, another barb. Even for all his silence, Krishna cannot stop his lips from curling into a smile.

“This is no contest, Satya,” he willingly gives in. After all, he knew the magnitude of hurt she had felt right after they’d walked out of The Pandavas’ hermitage. Her confabulation with Panchaali had been enlightening.

“I’m bound to ask, Arya,” she doesn’t hide her turmoil either, “Just why does she still have to endure” –

She comes to a grinding halt, before embarking on a much awaited monsoon of a tirade.

“My Love,” Krishna attempts to stem her flow, while attempting to assuage her turbulence, “it was sheer zemblanity,” –

__________

Draupadi’s call haunts him to this day.

Even He, doesn’t know how he had done it. He just remembers her crimson cloth tied around his finger, to prevent further flow of blood from being cut by The Sudarshan Chakra.

“Every thread shall be repaid, Krishne,”

“In vermillion, as bright as it adorns the parting of your hair.

In gold, as lustrous as it adorns your empyrean form.

In blue, as the peacock whose feathers I savour.

In fire, for Your Sire.”

__________

“I’d called out to Everyone, Satya. Each one of You, as she called out to Me.” Krishna’s voice is heavy, and earnest.

“It was too overpowering,” his calm attempts to conceal the minuscule of a tremor in his voice. Only His wives know that he trembles, in his corporeal form.

“Only when I could envision all of You,” he sighs, betraying nothing, “that I knew that I had succeeded.”

Satyabhaama remembers the fatigue, the exhaustion, that had made him age a decade after he had returned from the damned War that had prevented his presence in the accursed Sabha of The Kurus.

He hadn’t been the quite the same ever since. His outwardly gait was disarmingly deceptive, but, she knew, that The Slayer of Madhu had a strengthened resolve. His silences were louder than ever.

“I’ll set everything right, My Love.”

Satyabhaama knows that He would.

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