#not a clear shot but the subject matter made my day
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Creator Spotlight: @camberdraws
Hello! My name is Camber (any pronouns), and I’m a mixed media illustrator located in the southwestern United States. I love drawing everything, but I have a special interest in depicting strange creatures and environments, often accompanied by abstract imagery and mark-making. Professionally, I’ve worked creating concept art and 2D assets for museum exhibits, but currently, I am engaged full-time as a software developer and make standalone illustrations in my free time. I’ve been posting art on Tumblr since I was a teenager, and the site has been very welcoming towards my work to this very day!
Check out Camber’s interview below!
Did you originally have a background in art? If not, how did you start?
I’ve had an interest in drawing since I was barely sentient, but at thirteen years old I decided to become “serious” about art. I was all about reading tutorials and doing a ton of studies. I would tote my heavy instructional art books to school every single day (my poor back!) Despite all this, I decided to forgo art school in favor of a bachelor’s degree in Computer Science at my local college. Alongside my major, I received a minor in Art Studio with a specialization in fine art, which totally changed my views on creating artwork and drastically changed my style.
How has your style developed over the years?
As mentioned previously, my style did a 180 after I studied under some very skilled fine art professors! As a kid, my drawings were very realism-heavy and inspired by video game concept art. I mostly worked digitally, too. During college, I was thrown for a loop when we were instructed to do strange things like, for example, make a bunch of marks on paper using pastel, WITHOUT looking, and then turn said marks into a finished piece of art! I quickly and deeply fell in love with abstract work, and especially appreciated images that are not easily parsed by the viewer. Since then, I’ve made it my goal to combine abstract mark-making with more representational subject matter.
What is one habit you find yourself doing a lot as an artist?
Hmmm, one habit I really enjoy as an artist is strictly tracking the amount of time I spend drawing! I currently work a full-time job wholly unrelated to art, so I have to be careful with my time if I want to spend enough hours drawing each week. I created a spreadsheet that allows you to enter the amount of minutes you’ve drawn each day and calculate how much drawing time you still need to reach your weekly goal (I aim for 20 hours a week.) Having such a clear, numbers-based objective keeps me motivated to work like nothing else!
Over the years as an artist, what were your biggest inspirations behind your creativity?
I know this is a common inspiration, but Hayao Miyazaki’s work has been rewiring my neurons since I was a child. Seemingly all of my artistic interests can be summed up by the movie Princess Mononoke: it has strange/abstract creature designs, a strong focus on nature and environmental storytelling, and a mix of dark and hopeful themes. Additionally, I’ve been deeply inspired by video game series such as Zelda, Okami, Pikmin, and Dark Souls. But arguably, none of these have influenced me more than Pokemon! I’ve been drawing Pokemon since I could barely hold a pencil, and I haven’t stopped since! I believe my love of designing creatures originated with my endless deluge of Pokemon fanart during my childhood.
What is a medium that you have always been intrigued by but would never use yourself?
I’ve always been fascinated by 3D mediums and am so tempted to try them out! Whether that’s 3D models created digitally or sculptures made from clay, I profoundly admire artists who have this skill. Oftentimes, it feels like I don’t have time to delve into a totally different artistic paradigm. However, I feel very strongly that learning new skills can enrich your current work. I should take that advice and someday give 3D mediums a shot!
What is a recent creative project that you are proud of?
I am in the process of creating an art book (a dream of mine!) and have been executing smaller drawings of concepts I find interesting from both a visual and storytelling standpoint. A recent drawing for said book is that of a snail made of ink with an ink bottle as a shell, and it went absolutely viral! I’ve never had an experience like this as an artist before and it has been spectacular! I was able to open a shop using my newly acquired art printer and sell many prints of my snail. Creating something original, directly stemming from my interests, and having that resonate with so many people has been unreal. I couldn’t ask for more as an artist!
What advice would you give to younger you about making art that’s personal or truthful to your own experiences?
I would tell my younger self to chill out and experiment more! I was so caught up in the idea that I needed to have a realistic style to be considered “good.” I also believed that technical skill was the only measure of how worthy my art was. That’s not to say technical skill doesn’t matter, but I now firmly believe the creativity and voice of your ideas far outweigh the skill of execution in terms of importance. Technical skills should elevate ideas, not the other way around. Once I began to revel in strange ideas and stories for my work, depicted oftentimes in odd styles or mediums, I truly found my voice as an artist.
Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?
My peers here on Tumblr inspire me more than anything! Sharing my work with contemporaries and giving each other support brings me joy like no other, and keeps me motivated to continue creating. I wouldn’t be where I am today without them! @beetlestench, @theogm-art, @trustyalt, @ratwednesday, @phantom-nisnow, @svltart, @mintsdraws, @mothhh-hh, @jupiterweathers, @thesewispsofsmoke, @picoffee, @fetchiko, @kaisei-ink, and @pine-niidles just to name only a few!
Thanks for stopping by, Camber! If you haven’t seen their Meet the Artist piece, check it out here. For more of Camber’s work, follow their Tumblr, @camberdraws!
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Alastor x Daughter!Reader III (Platonic)
Yeah, this is going to take place after the end of season 1, just after Sir Pentious has ascended and the hotel has been rebuilt into a bigger better version. I just don't know how to fit Y/N in season 1.
Reminder: Alastor is in Hell for a reason.
TW: This contains a very delicate matter, like PTSD and panic attacks, even though I wanted to keep it brief because I'm not very well versed in these kind of subjects and wanted to be careful and respectful with it, I'm not entirely satisfied with how I wrote it, I researched and looked into my past experiences, but still don't think I truly adapted it as best as I would have liked. Also several mentions of cannibalism. Brief mentions of controlling behavior.
This isn't proof read so sorry for any grammar and/or vocabulary mistakes.
Part I ｜Part II｜Part III (You are here!)
tags: @anonymousewrites, @nonetheartist, @littledolly2345, @sunnyx07, @ouroborostheunholy, @mo-0-o, @sydneyyyya @lbcreations-blog
Soft jazz music enveloped the room, accompained by a strong smell of coffee and magnolias, someone was humming quietly to the music. Somehow, it reminded you of home.
You blinked groggily, trying to get the sleep away from your eyes, and leaned on your elbow. Why was the ground so soft and cushioned?
Yor eyes shot wide open when you remebered the events that led you there. The blood, the laughter, the eyes, the smile, the radio static... Your heart started beating wildly inside your ribcage, and you suddenly found yourself gasping for air. You clutched your old dress, hoping that would alleviate the growing pressure in your chest in some way.
"Well, look who's finally awake!" Alastor left the newspaper on the table and turned towards you, if his grin was supposed to be comforting it was not working. Just the fact that he was acting so casual, as if nothing had happened in the last ninety years made everything a million times worse.
"You are quite the hide and seek champion, ma petite faon. It took several years for my shadows to casually find you and then it took even longer for me to believe you actually had been sent here, ha ha!" His neck bended in an unnatural way as he laughed.
Crap. Did he always know where you were? Was this just a game of cat and mouse for him?
As if he had read your mind, his eyes adopted a more relaxed expression that did nothing to soothe your nerves. "Well, for the last ten years you gave me quite the chase, cher. Always on the move, never stopping, from one part of the ring to the other. And then there's that seven year gap." He muttered to himself that last part.
You still felt on the verge of a panic attack. Your body couldn't and wouldn't stop shaking, and felt like reality was blurring around you. Everything was happening too fast, it brought you back to that night decades ago when you found that your beloved father had actually been a serial killer. It almost felt like it was mere minutes ago.
Alastor knew of your discomfort, your fear. He could see it as clear as a day, he could almost taste it. He had always enjoyed tasting the fear on his victims, but yours only left an aftertaste of bitterness in his mouth. It was rotten, putrid and nauseating. Maybe because it was the only fear he should never had a taste of. Watching you like this also brought him back to the night he lost you.
As he held your unmoving body in his arms, for a couple of seconds his brain stopped functioning, unable to accept what had just happened. The pain he felt was just like someone had ripped his chest open and pulled out his still beating heart, only to crush it, leaving an empty and cold hole in its place.
He had taken you to your room and laid you in the bed, tucking you in. You looked so peaceful, if your face and clothes weren't stained with blood he would have believed you were sleeping. But you would never wake up again.
The next couple of days passed in a blur, tracking down the man who had dared to do this to you and then run away, and giving him his fair punishment. And as he dragged his mutilated body through the forest... Well... the rest is history.
"Anyways! All's well that ends well! Now I found you, and you won't need to worry anymore!" His chirpy radio filtered voice portrayed some genuine happiness that didn't reach you. The bond and trust that used to tie you two together, had been damaged beyond repair. And Alastor knew. That didn't mean he was going to give up, though.
Before he had the chance to make things even more awkward between you two, the door bursted open, revealing several people behind it.
"Oh, you're awake, that's so great! We were all sooo worried since Al suddenly brought you here, and you seemed passed out, we didn't know if you were alive or-" The blonde haired demon kept rambling, but you barely listened to her, way too much in shock. Behind her, there was a bunch of demons: a winged cat who would be rather doing anything else than be there, a tiny cyclops with a psychotic and perky smile; a spider demon who, if anything, looked confused; a taller cyclops demon girl who found the dirt in her nails to be way more interesting than you, and some kind of moth demon girl? You wondered if they all were going to participate in your slaughter or were just going to watch.
"-aaaand who were you again?" The blonde demon asked with an awkward smile.
"I'm very glad you're asking! Because this is no other than my beloved little girl!" Alastor opened his arms widely in a dramatic form of presentation as the sound effect of a studio crowd cheering mixed with his voice.
"Wha- hold the fuck up? Your daughter??? Didn't you sing to Luci-?"
One glare full of murderous intention and loud static was enough for the spider demon to shut up.
"Now, now, how about we let the newest addition to our merry little band have a well deserved rest." Your dad not so gently pushed the uninvited guests back towards the door.
"Addition? Is she our new guest?" The moth-like demon girl asked.
Alastor's face darkened and loud static filled the room. "A҉b҉s҉o҉l҉u҉t҉e҉l҉y҉ ҉n҉o҉t҉.҉". He swapped back to his more charming persona. "She'll be joining our facility as an assistant!" His tone admitted no further questioning, and, quite reluctantly, the staff and guests left the room.
So that's the story about how you ended working in the Hazbin Hotel.
Your work was mainly small chores or helping others. Nifty needed help to clean the rooms? You were there. Someone needed you to take cover at the reception? On it. Whatever tiny task someone needed help with, you had to do it.
You were not allowed to leave the hotel. Alastor made sure of that. Wherever you went, he made sure some of his shadows followed if he was not around, just to keep you controlled; although he'd rather call it, 'lovingly checking on his little baby'. It really was not needed, even if you didn't trust nobody there and your guard was still up, where else would you go? It was literal hell outside.
Years of hiding and living in constant fear of death or something worse had left you extremely mistrustful and fearful of people. There were times were you believed this was all a ruse to lure you into a false sense of security and then hit you were it hurt most.
It's not like you didn't believe in Charlie's dream, it was just you couldn't believe it could be possible, your father had very sincerely stated that he was just sponsoring it because he loved watching doomed souls struggle to achieve something meaningful and then fail spectacularly. Of course he did.
So, at least you had a roof over your head, enough food to eat, and a no-killing rule inside the hotel. Things could be worse.
Yet, there was still something inside you, something that you so desperately tried to let go but were unable to, as it had rooted itself deeply inside your mind and heart.
It started with small things, maybe a loud sound, maybe a bit of blood, it didn't matter because you could already feel yourself breathing heavily and sweating. It was like the entire world vanished around you. You couldn't breath, you couldn't think, your mind was on edge and your heart felt like it was going to burst out of your chest. You were completely paralized with fear, your hands shaking furiously, making you drop whatever you were holding.
These episodes started becoming more and more frequent, the more you tried to fight against them, the stronger they became. Whenever Charlie, Vaggie or any guest tried to ask you about them you always tried to brush them off, not wanting them to see it as a weak spot to exploit.
After several episodes and you refusing to open yourself, Alastor had enough of watching you suffer and decided to take matters into his own hands. So, he took you to Rosie.
If you expected something out of a place called 'Cannibal Town' it certainly wasn't that. It looked so... normal, like any other town you would have found back in your time. Well, if you ignored the people eating an entire corspe on the street. Your father gently moved your face to face front, because apparently it was rude to stare.
Oh Rosie immediately adored you. 100% godmother material. That southern belle couldn't wait to pamper you and dress you up in all kinds of fancy clothes.
Talking to Rosie was surprisingly, easy, if you looked over her cannibalistic tendencies. She kindly offered you some fresh fingers, but quickly backed up when she saw you turning green, jokingly saying "Ah, teenagers and their diets."
Sessions with Rosie always left you crying and drained but in a positive way, you felt like a huge load had been lifted off your shoulders. It may be a long road ahead but it was a great start.
Talking to Vaggie also helped. Turns out being a former exterminator had left not only physical but psychological scars on her. The first months after she had been left to die in hell had also been very struggling for her. She helped you with breathing exercises, held your hands when they started shaking, and even was willing to teach you some self defence. Which your dad opposed to.
Charlie was... Charlie, always positive and upbribing but also respecting your boundaries, you were almost starting to belive she was being genuine.
There was another member of the staff who had not been present when you were first brought there and you had yet to meet. The King of Hell himself, Lucifer. Just knowing he could be there send shivers down your spine, wondering what kind of diabolical entity could he be. When you first saw that 4' overly excited manchild, at first you thought it was a joke.
Lucifer took a liking to you pretty easily, much to the annoyance of Alastor. He was curious about how someone as innocent and young as you could have ended in a place like that and vowed to protect you if someone ever gave you trouble. Your dad is seething. "Here, take this." And he just gives you a toy duck who backflips and makes the cutest rubber ducky noise. You loved it. Your dad is about to break the no-killing rule.
Alastor tried to win back your trust and love, even if he knew it was going to be a long and arduous task. He didn't care. He just got you back he was never letting you go.
He may not believe entirely in Charlie's dream, but he knew that if it was possible the one who had more chances to go straight to Heaven would be you. And he was not having that.
Alastor briefly considered making a deal to own your soul, just to ensure your safety and his control.
Up to this day he still doesn't know how you ended down there, and can't wait for the day when you will trust him enough to tell him.
He will respect your boundaries begrudgingly, he is your dad, he knows best. Will play nice and let you take your time with things. He will quietly show support for your emotional progress and make light physical contact, just enough to be supportive and not freak you out.
He cooks for you, and only you. The old homemade grandma's recipes he used to make back in your living times. At first, you didn't trust it, thinking he could have poisoned it. But the second you tasted his Jambalaya you felt like crying. Not only because after ninety years barely eating you were famished, but because for a couple of seconds, something there in the taste and smell had brought you back to simpler times. (like the Ratatouille guy)
Alastor truly desires to hear you call him 'Dad' again, you had yet to do so. Yes, you recognise him as your father, but after everything it just pains you to address him as such. It's like your dad and Alastor were two separate people. The loving father vs the serial killer, the guardian vs the Radio Demon.
He really loves you very much and it's been hard on him to keep that much distance from his little fawn. So he takes out his frustration on others, don't turn the radio on when he tells you not to.
And with time, his efforts were rewarded. Somewhat. You seemed to have gotten a bit more comfortably around him, at least you didn't flinch or recoil anytime he approached you. But you couldn't forget, you couldn't overlook the fact that he was a murderer and a cannibal and still doubted if anything you two had lived together had been truly genuine.
Honestly, it offended him that you would even think that way. Wasn't he there for you, always? Didn't he protect you from the darkness of the outside world during your living times? Wasn't he, as a father, devoted enough to his fawn?
But of course, actions spoke louder than words, and his actions had left too many cracks in your trust. But he will keep trying to win you back. Alastor's very patient demon, he has all the time in the world.
Y̸̗͉̺̱͂̕o̸̧̯̞̟̰̪̗̱̳̱̎̈̿̄̄͛̅͝͝û̴̦͔̹͈̣̥̾͛͑͗͋̅̏̂̚ͅ ̷̭͋̈͛̽͒̅̀̈́́̚ă̷̢̢̖̦͕̞͚͔̻̳̅̇̃͌̿͐̄̃̕r̵̨̢̺̦͇͚̙̈́̅̽́̊͠ę̶̺̖͋̐͐͌͘͠͝ ̶̖̲͎̜̮͚͉̰̒n̵̢͕̝͖̗̜̣̾̾̇̾̅̽͊͘ǫ̴̼̺̠̱̦̘̒̈̎̿̇́̔̉t̴͙͇̼̱̻̦̦͔̖͙̍͌ ̸̩̂́̎͒͘g̶͔͚̰̺͔͉͓͍͔̈́̽̈́͋͘͜o̵̹͔̫͚̼͚͒͑į̷̧̫͔̹͉̰̘̮̍͋͒̈n̸̢͕̙̙̞͔̓͐̓ͅg̵͖͇̜͚̗͙̤̫̱̝̉̂́̚ ̴̪̂͑̓̊͛a̷̖̞͊̄̈́͑͋̈́̄͘n̶̻̟̙̝̪̩͂̋͗ẏ̸̨̛̱̱͇̱͖̤͕̥͛́̍̂͛̕͠w̸̛̖͎̫̑h̵͔̝̣̀ẹ̵̝͍̳̟͚̪̍̒͋̒̀̊̏r̷̨͉͉̒̑̉̒̄̎̓̎͜͝͠ȅ̸̩͇̳.̵̠̪̖̍͂͠.
#alastor#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#tw: ptsd#tw: trauma#tw: cannibalism#tw: controlling behavior
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i literally understand if u don’t do this request but dally coming home in a rly bad mood to femreader n being rough like spanking choking 🤧
Mercy
Pairing: Dallas Winston x Fem!Reader
Summary: Believe it or not Dallas had his fair share of patience, but you’d managed to wear it thin - imagine that.
Warnings: Smut. MDNI. Choking, hair-pulling, fingering, blowjobs, overall rough sexual themes.
A/N: Thank you for the request and the kind words! And I absolutely write things like this, so don’t worry!
Word Count: 3.4k
You weren’t normally possessive over Dallas. Alright, that was a lie. Usually, you weren’t overly possessive, but some women made it difficult. You could be at a house party, out with the guys, it wouldn’t matter if his arm was around your waist - some woman would inevitably ogle at him and you’d have to drape yourself over him like some makeshift blanket to get them to look away.
Dallas always shot them down, something that made you feel secure whenever you saw it. Most of the time he was too busy with whatever had caught his attention to give anyone the time of day, unless it happened to be you or the guys. He never faulted you for your possessive nature, he was the same damn way - only the last time a guy had flirted with you in front of him it’d nearly resulted in a fistfight.
You’d been hoping that tonight would be normal, a fun night with the guys in Buck’s shooting the shit and getting tipsy on whatever was available. For the most part, it was, you’d had enough to drink to feel slightly tipsy, and you’d somehow beaten Two-Bit in a round of pool. But as always, people flooded through the front door. With the crowd came a few women, most of whom had come with a man and stuck clear to their side throughout the night.
One, however, did not. She was pretty, pretty enough for two of the guys to notice her and give her a cunning smile, whistling obscenities that would’ve made anyone unused to their behavior blanch in embarrassment. She simply waved them off, eyes flickering over to Dallas for a moment as she bit at her bottom lip. In his defense, Dallas had been completely focused on keeping score for the current game, seeing as how he had nearly twenty dollars bet on Johnny to win.
You’d seen it, and that was enough in your mind. As soon as her eyes flitted over to you, you gave her a feigned smile, hand immediately moving over the front of Dallas’s jeans where you grabbed him through the denim. His legs jerked closed, eyebrows furrowing in both frustration and irritation as he looked over to you for having scared the shit out of him. The woman looked away, a faint blush painting itself over her features, so you considered yourself victorious.
“The hell you grabbin’ my dick for?” He asked, tone full of disbelief, but soon slipping into soft laughter as he followed your gaze to the woman who now faced the bar. “Jealous? Really?”
You had no defense of your actions, but seeing as how you hadn’t pissed him off you gave him a shrug in response. Your nonchalance on the subject made him roll his eyes, soon returning his attention to the game, although he kept his hand fixed on your upper thigh as he kept score. You’d scooted closer to him on the couch, draping one of your legs over his as you switched your attention between the crowd and the game, soon forgetting all about the woman as the rambunctious nature of the guys picked up once more.
Somehow Dallas’d won nearly thirty bucks off of Johnny, finding himself seriously proud of the kid as he continuously beat everyone around him at pool - even you found yourself amazed, although you found yourself more preoccupied with your current sitting position on Dallas's lap and how his hands held you steady.
After Dallas had collected his winnings he returned his attention to you, circling his arm around your middle as the guys dispersed into the crowd or over to the bar. During the games Dallas’d jerked on the couch, or slipped his hand higher along your thigh whenever it grew tense - so it was safe to say you were painfully horny.
“Can’t believe he won so many times.” He laughed out, snapping you out of your daze. You huffed out a laugh, nodding at his words even though you hadn’t a clue what the man was on about, something he caught onto quickly. “Tunin’ me out?”
“No.” You responded, tone a bit more snippy than you’d meant for. He furrowed his brow, leaning back against the couch with a cocky grin as he patted at your thigh, pulling your attention back to him with a hushed, “You have an attitude.”
“Maybe I wouldn’t have an attitude if you’d do something about it.” You’d huffed out, eyes rolling with your words as you shifted on his lap. Not the smartest thing you’d ever said, but you blamed it on the two drinks you’d had earlier in the night even though they no longer had any bearing on your judgment, but you had to have an excuse, right?
“Excuse me?” Dallas asked through a laugh, hand moving up to cup your chin as he tilted your head back to meet his gaze. “Want to say that again?”
You shook your head, swallowing thickly as your thighs clenched together, all too aroused at the sudden rough nature of Dallas’s actions. He clicked his tongue against his teeth, eyes flitting to where the guys stood against the bar. Within a second he had you up on your feet, hand grasping your waist tightly as he led you to the stairs.
You’d opened your mouth to defend your actions, worried you’d pissed him off, but before you could utter a single word Dallas’d pulled you into his bedroom.
“No.” He grumbled, narrowing his eyes in frustration as he motioned to the floor. “Get on your knees, doll.”
The cold wooden boards bit at your knees through the frayed denim, making you wince inwardly as you settled yourself onto your knees. Despite the pain, you couldn’t help the sheer arousal coursing through your body at the way Dallas was treating you, causing your thighs to clench together as you fumbled with your hands in your lap.
“Expect me to do all the work?” He laughed out, shaking his head as he began unfastening his belt. You quickly moved, pushing his hands away as you undid his belt, tossing the leather to the floor before unbuttoning his jeans. You could feel him straining against the denim, cock twitching with each brush of your hand against the front of his pants.
As you freed his cock from the confines of his boxers he cupped your jaw, eyes softer than they had been previously as his thumb brushed against your lower lip with a whispered, “You want this?”
You nodded, a soft smile upon your lips as you rested your cheek against his touch. He returned your smile, giving your cheek a quick pat before threading his fingers through your hair, giving the strands a gentle tug as his other hand grasped his cock, pressing the tip to your lips. Your eyes fixed on his as you pressed a kiss to his tip, shifting your legs ever so slightly as you took him into your mouth.
The taste of his pre-cum coated your tongue, causing your cunt to ache as you leaned forward on your knees, taking him farther into your mouth as your eyes stayed trained on him. His grip on your hair never faltered, even as his eyelids fluttered at the feeling of your tongue circling his tip. He wanted to see his cock buried in your throat, to see you choke on him.
“Crazy how all that attitude goes away when you’ve got my cock down your throat.” He remarked, tutting afterward as he slowly inched his hips forward, a soft groan emanating from his chest as you struggled to take him deeper. “This what you needed, doll?”
All you could do was blink, eyes watering as your gag reflex instinctively kicked in. He didn’t waver, instead tightening his hold on your hair until your hand tapped against his thigh. As soon as he felt your tap against his thigh he pulled away, a string of your saliva connecting you to his cock as you caught your breath. Ragged breaths filled your lungs as you nodded, letting out a quiet, “Yes.”
He smiled down at you, a proud look on his face as you opened your mouth. He guided himself back to your mouth, slapping his tip against your tongue before pushing forward. You hummed around him, hands held behind yourself as spit dribbled onto your chest. He gave you time to adjust, free hand raising to cup your jaw as he pushed his hips forward.
You choked back your cough as you took him down your throat, tongue laving the underside of his cock before moving to bob your head. He met your movements with eager thrusts of his hips, groans falling past his lips as his pace picked up, all sense of kindness falling away at the feeling of you choking around his cock.
His hold on your hair tightened, using it to control your movements as he continued fucking your mouth, watching in lust-stricken awe as your eyes watered, yet remained focused on him. He could feel his orgasm building, cock twitching against the soft warmth of your tongue as you hollowed your cheeks around him.
“Fuck, fuck-“ He hissed, abruptly pulling out as he squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself not to cum as he listened to the sounds of you desperately catching your breath. With a deep intake of air, he nodded toward the bed, voice rough as he spoke. “C’mon, get on the bed.”
You didn’t have to be told twice, scurrying to your feet as your hand absentmindedly wiped at your mouth and chest. As you moved onto the bed you stripped yourself of your shirt, wiping your throat free of spit and pre-cum before tossing it to the floor. You watched with bated breath as Dallas approached you, cock twitching against his stomach as he turned you over onto your stomach, a groan sounding from within his chest as you immediately arched your back.
He grabbed a pillow from behind you, placing it underneath your hips before moving to remove your jeans and underwear, trailing his fingers along the folds of your cunt once he’d removed both articles of clothing. You pushed back into his touch, cheek pressed to the chilled mattress, craving his warmth. He pushed two of his fingers into you, watching with a smile as you rocked back on his fingers, whining his name into the duvet.
“Look so pretty taking my fingers.” He murmured, tone akin to a condescending coo as he pulled his fingers free, leaving you clenching around nothing. You felt his hands against your hips, pulling you back against him. He swiped his tip along your folds, warm laughter resonating from within his chest at the sheer amount of wetness that covered your cunt, giving you no less than a second to prepare yourself before he bottomed out within you.
The pace was brutal from the start, each thrust pulling a desperate moan from your lungs as you felt your cunt desperately trying to accommodate his size. His hands smoothed up to your waist, fingers still wet with your cum as he pulled you back to meet his thrusts. He was big, big enough that you were sure you could feel him in your stomach. With a whimper you reached underneath yourself, pressing your hand against your lower stomach, where sure enough you felt him - each roll of his hips pushing his cock deeper into your waiting cunt.
The added pressure pulled a grunt from him, his head falling back as he took in a shaken breath. He’d thought you were touching yourself for a moment until he noticed how still your hand was. Curiosity got the better of him, causing him to place his hand over yours, feeling himself against his fingers. The feeling almost made him cum right then and there, making him still his hips as he took in another ragged breath.
“You like feeling my cock buried inside of you?” He asked, tone taunting as he jerked his hips forward again, the movement pulling a whimper from you as you nodded. “Made for it, huh? Made to take my cock.”
You could only whine as you nodded, eyes filling with tears at the feeling of his cock brushing against that spot within you that made your thighs shake beneath you. You were utterly fucked out, something that Dallas found hotter than he ever thought possible. As if sensing how mindless you’d become from the feeling of him fucking you, he grabbed at your hips, picking up his pace in a manner that left you breathless.
You were left sobbing into the bedsheets, hands clutching for some reprieve you’d never find as he bullied his cock into you from behind. The pace was brutal, the feeling of his hands on your hips even more so, and yet you could feel your cunt squeezing around him, pulling him deeper within you with each thrust of his hips.
“Cryin’?” He asked, already having known the answer from your sniffled back whines and the way you wiped at your face with the motor skills of an inebriated person. He clicked his tongue against his teeth, bringing his hand down in a harsh slap against the plush skin of your ass as he continued. “Yet you’re squeezin’ me like you’d die without my cock in you.”
The degradation only made you whine more, eyebrows furrowing together as you pushed your hips back against him, meeting his harsh thrusts with sheer desperation you hadn’t known existed until then. He laughed in response, a deep and toying laugh you’d only heard him make a few times throughout your relationship. His hand smoothed up your back, abruptly pushing down against the middle, forcing your chest to be level with the mattress as he kept your hips up to meet his thrusts.
The angle forced the air from your lungs, tightening your cunt around his cock. You could hear him biting back groans, his hands grasping at the soft skin of your hips as he pulled you back to meet his thrusts. You could feel your cum dripping down your inner thighs, each push inward of his cock only forcing more out. All you needed was a bit of friction against your clit and you’d cum, so you snuck your hand between your thighs.
Dallas had picked up on the subtle movement, hand immediately snatching yours by the wrist to pin it against your lower back. You cried out in frustration, but you weren’t frustrated enough to move away from his cock. He let out a condescending “awe,” jerking his hips forward in a manner that all but bruised your cervix.
“Think you can cum after bein’ a brat?” He grunted out, laughter fueled by disbelief falling from his lips as he continued fucking you. You nodded, pleasure-fueled tears falling past your eyes as you struggled against his hold, needing to touch yourself so badly that it hurt. “Gotta earn it, doll.”
You didn’t argue, knowing any form of rebuttal would only garner further frustration on your part. You pushed your hips back, pressing your face against your forearm as you whined against your damp flesh, the slick sound of you fucking yourself back into his cock echoing throughout the room, paired with his self-satisfied laughter as he grabbed onto your hip with his free hand.
The pleasure was nearly blinding, just enough to have you careening on the edge as his tip brushed against your g-spot with each perfect roll of his hips. He wasn’t mean enough to make you do all of the work, but he was mean enough to watch you whimper into your arm with a smile on his face as you struggled to keep up with his pace.
You reached down between your legs, fingers splaying against the underside of his cock each time he’d pull out, earning you a cut-off groan as his hand released your wrist in favor of holding onto the curvature of your waist. You could feel each vein beneath the pads of your fingers, slick with your fluids.
“C’mon, doll.” He grunted out, voice hoarse from self-restraint. “Touch yourself, cum with me.”
You nodded against the bedspread, tears partially blinding you as you moved your hand to your clit, swirling your fingers around the slick and hardened bud as he fucked himself into you. You didn’t need much friction to build your orgasm, having already teetered on the edge for the better part of twenty minutes. As soon as your fingers circled your clit you were left sobbing into the mattress, cunt spasming around his length as he thrusted into you, his hands tightened their hold as he grunted out words of praise that were lost on your pleasure-ridden mind.
You’d hardly had a moment to catch your breath before he bent over your slumped form, looping his forearm around your neck before leaning back up, all but impaling you on his cock as he resumed his brutal pace. You let your head fall back against his shoulder, babbled out whines falling from your lips as you held onto his forearm, letting him use you.
The closer he got to his orgasm the tighter his hold got, his lips pressed against your temple as he grunted out words, each praise and degradation going straight to your still oversensitive cunt. You could feel your heartbeat in your throat, air becoming harder to take in as his hold around your throat tightened.
“So fucking tight, doll.” He grunted, a low groan of your name following as his hips jerked forward, warmth following the thrust as he painted your cunt white with his cum. You whimpered at the feeling, noise in tandem with another moan on his part as he wrapped an arm around your middle, letting the one around your throat fall to his side. You sagged against him, taking in a ragged breath as his cock twitched within you.
“Hey-“ He started, lifting his hand to tilt your jaw back, meeting your bleary gaze with nothing but care in his. “You alright?”
You nodded, wetting your lips as you continued to slow your breathing, heart still pumping wildly within your chest. He gave you a short nod, pressing a kiss to your temple as his hand smoothed over your stomach, still buried to the hilt inside of your cunt.
He shifted behind you then, a quiet curse falling from his lips as he pulled out of you. You let yourself slump forward against the mattress, bottom half a complete mess of cum and sweat, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care with the sheer amount of post-coital ecstasy flowing through your veins. You hadn’t even noticed that he’d gotten off his bed until he returned with a towel, delicately wiping between your thighs before wiping himself off, tossing the dirtied fabric to a far corner of the room before moving back onto the bed beside you.
“C’mon, doll.” He whispered, the tone so gentle your muddled mind could hardly perceive it until his arms wrapped around your middle, pulling your back flush to his chest as he helped you to get comfortable. “Did so good, real proud of you.”
You could only hum in response, shifting your hips as he pulled the covers over the both of you. Thankfully you’d somehow pushed the plush duvet off the mattress during the whole ordeal, leaving you both with a thin white sheet that felt more cool than anything, a genuine blessing against your still-hot skin.
“Did I fuck you quiet?” Dallas asked through a laugh, words immediately snapping you awake as you turned halfway to give him a half-hearted frown. He returned the look, clearly mocking you before leaning up to press a kiss to your forehead. “Messin’ with you, doll. I don’t think anything could make you shut up.”
“Dallas!” You laughed out in disbelief, swatting at his forearm as he chuckled behind you, absolutely pleased with himself for his joke. “Not funny!”
He relented, pressing a kiss to the back of your neck as you settled back down in his arms. You’d let your eyes flutter shut, content with the feeling of him holding you so securely to his chest, his soft breaths lulling you to sleep, only to feel him stifle a laugh.
“It is funny.”
A/N: This one is LONG. But I hope you guys like it! I honestly don’t mind writing rough stuff, I’ve read and written enough of it in the past that I might as well write it for Dallas hehehe. As always, thank you for the love you guys have shown my work! Any requests feel free to ask them and I promise I will get to them! You can find all my works over on my AO3 account, “Unscriptural.”
#anon ask#my work#the outsiders#dallas winston#the outsiders fanfic#the outsiders fanfiction#the outsiders writing#request#dallas winston drabble#dallas winston imagine#dally winston x reader#dally winston smut#the outsiders dally#dally winston#dallas winston x y/n#dallas winston writing#dallas winston x reader smut#dallas winston x reader#dallas winston smut#the outsiders dallas
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Yae with a reader who really, really wants to touch her tails
Yae with a reader that really want to touch her tail
characters: Yae Miko x gn!reader
warnings: none
a/n: I hope this matches what you asked for, I may have strayed strayed a bit from the request at a few points, but I just started writing and couldn't stop myself.
Anyway, hope you enjoy!
Yae Miko
The first time you asked to touch one of Yae’s tails, you were shot down almost immediately, the only thing stopping the Guuji from completely disassembling all the self-worth you might hold for the rest of your lifetime being the fondness she held for you. That being said, you still didn’t get away scot-free, not hearing the end of the story until several months later.
But while most others would have never mentioned the subject after such an incident again, knowing not to play around with the fire that was Yae’s teasing, that brain of yours worked slightly differently from theirs.
When the contract between Yae’s Publishing House and one of their best writers ran out and it became increasingly clear that she had no interest in signing a new one any time soon, most publishers would have given up and moved on, but not Yae. Not when she had one last ace up her sleeve.
“No. No, not in a million years. No”, you shot down Yae’s idea almost immediately, not willing to hear her out this time. You had always been okay with completing various odd requests from her, was it for an extra day off, because you had nothing else to do or because it was Yae asking you, but this was one you absolutely refused to even entertain for a second.
“I don’t see why you’re so against it. Didn’t the two of you know each other since you were kids? Surely sitting down with her for one evening and discussing the future wouldn’t be that difficult for you”, she continued, the realization that she wasn’t going to give up on her plan slowly setting in.
But Yae was right with one thing. You and the person in question did know each other for a long time, and while you never felt anything towards her, she had always been surprisingly receptive towards anything you asked of her, the idea to sign a contract with Yae’s Publishing House being the most obvious example of such.
There was no doubt in your mind she’d agree to sign whatever paper you asked her to, but that was reason enough to decline Yae’s plan. You had principles and using someone else’s feeling towards you for such things was out of the question, no matter what she offered-
“I’ll let you pet my tail if you help me out.”
“One minute per month for as long as I work here.” The counter offer shot out of your mouth, those ‘principles’ of yours suddenly nowhere to be seen.
“I’ll let you rest your head on it for 30 seconds. Once”, Yae responded, only for you to immediately jump at the opportunity without as much as a second thought, sealing the deal by grabbing her hand and shaking it.
Any regrets and disdain you might have felt towards yourself for actually going through with Yae’s request evaporated the moment your eyes fell on her fluffy tail. It looked even more comfortable than you imagined it and once you actually laid your head on it, you could feel sleepiness wash over you. You might have had to lay a few more of your principles at rest for it, but at this moment you couldn’t help but feel you made a good bargain.
As you laid there, Yae began silently humming to herself in order to pass the time. It was a beautiful and calming melody that made your eyelids grow even heavier with each second, and before you knew it, you decided to close your eyes and enjoy the time you had left, you let out a content sigh.
As your the time your eyes had been closed increasingly felt longer and longer, you couldn’t help but start feeling worried, causing you to eventually open your eyes. You were surprised that Yae hadn’t woken you up at the exact moment 30 seconds passed, your surprise increasing at least tenfold when you noticed the sun already setting and the previously blue sky painted in various shades of red.
“And? How was your sleep?”, Yae asked as she looked down at you, a small smile on her face as she noticed your widened eyes, causing your cheeks to flare-up until their colors nearly matched the sky.
“F-fine”, you quickly answered before trying to sit back up, only for your head to be pushed down until it once again laid on her soft tail.
“No need for such a hurry, you already laid on it for 3 hours, so what difference will a few more seconds make?” The contrast between Yae’s soft words and the smug smile she wore on her face couldn’t be bigger. You weren’t an Idiot, so you instinctively knew her words' true meaning. The sudden feeling that your ‘quick nap’ wasn’t as unplanned as you previously thought… at least not for one of the two of you.
“The time of a Guuji is very valuable, you know?” Hook
“Especially on a day like this, I can’t fathom how many guests visited the shrine today.” Line
“But don’t you worry, I can think of a few tasks you can do to pay me back.” and sinker.
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☆ ~ you don’t have to fight anymore
pairing: platonic!mizzen x district 5!reader summary: while you’re stuck in the cage you offer to be someones pillow for the night—or which mizzen ditches coral to get some well earned rest, maybe even a friend. but friendships don’t make it that far when it’s all for themselves. warnings: bonding (at first), canon violence, death, some language, uploaded via iphone, this was in my drafts for too long so i uploaded it :0
when he first approached you you’d felt fear, it wasn’t a secret that his district partner was one of the scariest tributes in here and your position didn’t really make you trust others that easily. but when you looked over you could sense he wasn’t planning to harm you, him looking more scared than you as he approached.
you were quiet as he stood infront of you, eyes directed away from his form to hopefully encourage him to spill the reason he came. but only after a few moments you couldn’t stand the awkward silence any longer, “with coral’s tight grip on you i never thought you’d ever make any connections with anyone but her.”
mizzen’s eyes embarrassedly shot down to his feet, your tone letting him know this was already a bad idea, “well i- just wanted to talk to you, it kinda gets boring talking to one person all the time.” at that your eyes softened a little, reminded that the other tributes you’d soon be against we’re around your age - mizzen looking like he were one of the youngest - and were all coping in different ways.
“right, sorry,” you shot him an embarrassed smile before patting the open spot next to you, “here, to make up for the bad first impression i made.”
he shot a sideways smile in thanks, making himself at home on the uncomfortable rock you perched yourself on before nervously turning towards you. “what’s your name,” there was genuine curiosity on his face, making you both confused and appreciative in a way.
“(name),” you smiled for a short moment but then frowned as the awful thoughts of what’s to come poisoned your mind and shot down your elevated attitude from moments before, “what does it matter anyways? in a few days we’ll be fighting to the death, not caring about our opponents name or the life they had before.”
“oh,” hurt blossomed across his face, sitting in silence for a bit as he pondered what to say back, “it matters because our names are the only thing we can keep, the rest of our life stripped away from us as soon as our names were called.”
“i know we’re all gonna die - that much is clear - but i just hoped i could know you all before that,” guilt bubbled back at the back of your throat again, his face scrunched up in a sad frown when you looked back at him. 
“shit, m’sorry kid, things have just been overwhelming,” you finally turned towards him, averting your whole attention to the conversation, gesturing towards him as you muttered your next words, “and that doesn’t excuse my behavior, since you’re obviously handling it somewhat better than i am.”
you paused for a moment, “it just that, knowing eachother will only make it harder when one of us have to die,” a tinge of sadness in your gaze as you looked at the young boy.
“that’s true,” mizzen looks down at his hands, a tear slipping down his cheek as he tries his best to get it together, upset at how emotional getting reaped made him and not wanting others to find him as an easy target because of his open vulnerability, “ it’s just, maybe we don’t have to be enemies.”
his innocence made your heart hurt, “maybe not out here but in the arena you have much better chances with coral, so sometime along the way we’ll be on opposite sides.” not sparing any time after to change the subject.
“well I’m actually kinda glad you came,” you offered a smile, “it’s nice knowing that they’re people who care enough to ask those types of things regardless of the circumstances we’re in.” mizzen smiled in return - the drying tear tracks staining his cheeks - although halfway through it, it broke into a yawn.
“you should go rest with coral,” you gestured where she was, not hiding the fact she was watching our interaction, “don’t want her coming for my head before we even get into the arena by keeping you here.”
mizzen looked back at her before shrugging, “i don’t think i mean that much to her, she’s probably just watching to make sure i don’t betray her in the arena.”
that caused the words to die in your throat, not knowing how to respond, having to have him to continue the conversation, “could i just stay here for the night? I don’t want to go back.”
you nodded in response as a sense of protectiveness washing over you, “you can rest on my shoulder too if you want, i know that there isn’t much in here that’s comfier.” mizzen looked at you for a second, contemplating your offer before gently resting his head on you, muttering a little ‘thank you’ before he closed his eyes.
-
it didn’t have to end like this, it shouldn’t have ended like this. the guilt bubbling in his throat mixing with the bile that he had to force himself to hold back as he watched your body fall from the beam before landing with the harsh smack on the arena floor.
what’s worse was that he was apart of this.
although he knew coral was planning to kill you, did he have to be apart of the joint effort? couldn’t he have distracted her a bit or maybe messed up so you could get away? couldn’t have coral asked tanner or treech to do it with her instead?
his momentary shock was dissipated as coral called for him and the others, readying up to hunt lucy gray after catching her emptying the water bottles they had gathered prior to killing you.
he carefully climbed down from the beam before crouching at your body - making sure the others weren’t watching before continuing - to mutter the last message to you that’ll come from his lips, “rest, it’s your turn to dream now.” he paused for a moment before his shaking fingers gently shut your eyes closed.
before making his way to the others, he shot a sorrowful look over his shoulder one last time, knowing that soon he’ll either join you or he’ll have to live with the guilt of what he’d done.
-
a/n: uploading a treech fic soon! and completely disregard the fact that this wasn’t posted on saturday :0
#🎣. starfish saturdays#🎣. starfish#🕊️🐍. tbosas#platonic x reader#coral tbosas#mizzen tbosas#tanner tbosas#treech tbosas#tbosas imagine#tbosas#tbosas x you#district 4#tbosas x reader#writing for fun#the hunger games x reader#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#ballad of songbirds and snakes#coriolanus snow#lucy gray baird#sejanus plinth
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Dazai Osamu x reader
💌 Reading into the palms of isekai bullshit:
Chapter 3 💌
Summary: You were no stranger to isekai bullshit. It’s not like you had a problem with it. The genre took over the anime scene for years now but you try to stay away from thinking about how you would handle the situation. The last time you thought about inserting yourself into your favorite show you wrote a 100k word xReader fic for your favorite characters and you didn’t want to spend all your time consumed by the brainrot again. Never again, you promised yourself that was the last time you’d let the devil on your shoulder win. You clicked on chapter 1 to start the adventure over again but when you opened your eyes and saw Dazai O-FUCKING-samu getting choked by Kunikida you honestly hoped it was a dream.
Notes: Another isekai so I can play around with BSD like dolls.
💌 Word count: 2,981 💌 <= Previous Chapter | Next Chapter =>
Aside from the raid on the agency and fearing being shot to death the next few days turned out okay. You had a few scraps on your arms and legs from the broken glass but other than that you were right as rain. While Atsushi was going with Ranpo, Kunikida wanted you to stay behind to help reorganize the files with him.
"I wanted you to stay behind because tomorrow you're going to escort Ranpo to Kyushu." He took another file from the stack you were holding. "You still have amnesia but it's clear your talent for palm reading could be useful for detective work. It's not Ranpo's ultra deduction but he should be able to help you get a better grasp of it."
You stiffened. You hadn’t thought of that. The next few days they would be handling the Azure Messenger. Which was a mess you'd gladly skip out on but the anime didn't follow Ranpo to Kyushu and you don't recall reading about it either. You'd have no idea what was going to happen. This isn't good but you can't refuse the order. Realistically it was sound logic but you were going to disappoint Ranpo with your clear lack of talent. Oh boy. You were dreading the experience. On the plus side with you gone Dazai could still offer his space to Sasaki and by the time you guys got back you’d finally have your own humble abode.
By train it would take several hours to make it to Kyushu from Yokohama. You were not looking forward to such a long journey especially with Ranpo. Sure enough it was only three minutes into the first train when the other announced that they were bored. “Well, did you bring a book or something?” you asked hoping he had the foresight to plan his own entertainment.
“I did but it was boring. It’s no fun when you can already guess the ending. They made it so obvious too.” he was flailing his arms before he settled to look out the window unamused and slightly irritated. You sighed, you brought a book too or well Dazai handed you a book. “The Complete Guide to Suicide.” You didn’t want to read it, not because the subject matter wasn't interesting, you just would rather not know but you were curious about Ranpo’s book. The moment you tried to grab for it he turned to you “It’s the sister, she lied about her condition and wasn’t even at the hospital. She and the doctor were in cahoots.”
You frowned “You know that’s not going to stop me from reading it right?” He rolled his eyes, pulling it just out of reach. “I know, how about you entertain me!” his smile sparkled with intrigue
You raised an eyebrow “What you want me to tell you a story?” That wouldn't be so bad if you could just talk about another of your favorite anime. What were the odds they existed in this reality? Ranpo hummed “Not exactly. I want you to read my palm.” he practically shoved his hands in your face. “Well what do you want to know?”
He shrugged, “I don’t know, what can you tell me?” He seemed genuinely curious. Kunikida must have told him about your “talents” otherwise he probably wouldn’t have bothered. You grabbed his hands scanning over them before saying “Originally you’re not from Yokohama but you did go to the Yokohama Police Academy until you were kicked out because you exposed the warden. You met Fukuzawa by chance while you went to pick up your work permit. He was the one who gave you your glasses.” You paused to look up at Ranpo. Shockingly he opened his eyes to stare at you. He didn’t look off put nor did he look surprised but there was this secret third thing you couldn't place. You continued as you matched his eye contact “You don’t need the glasses to activate your ability but it does make it easier for you to shut it off should I go on?” You were not sure how much more you could say at this point. With the way he was looking at you you might have said too much already.
“You don’t actually read palms.”
Shit, he saw through you.
Hesitantly you laughed “What makes you say that?” your stomach drops when he tears away a thin layer of skin from his palms, it was a prosthetic. He came prepared. “Because it wasn’t my palm you were reading. So how did you know that?” Ranpo doesn’t move to pull out his glasses nor does his expression change but he continues to stare at you. A bead of sweat drops down the side of your face. Ranpo saw right through you from the beginning. WHAT DO YOU DO!? How did he know?
“I found it weird that Dazai wanted me to mask my hands. He had made a copy of his palm a few days ago saying he wanted to test your talent again. Kunikida said that when you first met you were able to read Dazai’s palm, with that being the case it confirmed it wasn’t a special ability.” He discarded the fake skin, throwing it into his bag. When he turned back to you he seemed perplexed with the new information. “If you actually read palms you should have recognized it was Dazai’s immediately. Instead you gave me information about myself that only one other person would know.”
You sighed cat’s out of the bag you guessed. Should you just come clean or wait to see what Ranpo speculates? You sighed just when you thought things were going smoothly. “I should have expected as much from Dazai and here I thought we were finally getting along.” You shifted awkwardly in your seat to face Ranpo more. You were about to tell him when his eyes widened suddenly almost like a realization hit him. “You’re not from here,” he trailed off, finally closing his eyes “(Hometown name), right? But how did you end up here?” He relaxed back into his chair. You wonder how he figured it out but you wouldn’t doubt it had to do with the state you were in that night at the warehouse. “I wish I knew. The last thing I remember was falling asleep reading my favorite manga and then I woke up in the river. To be completely honest I thought this was a dream so I thought it would be funny to mess with Dazai a little.” you scoffed at yourself “Really stupid idea thinking back on it, but you know,” there was no way this was going to work. You had another stupid idea. “Since you’re the only one who knows if you ever wanted to mess with Dazai this would be the perfect opportunity to finally pull one over on him. Obviously the choice is yours but I’m just saying there would be no way for him to figure it out on his own.” You watched as a devilish grin formed on his face.
“I’m listening.”
“If you keep my little secret I’ll answer any questions you have plus be your snack gofer for a week. Oh and get you all the shiny marbles you desire.” This entire venture was hinging on the fact that Ranpo loved snacks. You only assumed it would be amusing to watch Dazai fumble about his original accusation. Dazai was never wrong and you knew that was one of the reasons Ranpo doesn’t like playing chess with him. So you figure it would be fun to watch Dazai have to reconsider his approach and strategy to gain intel on you. Watching Ranpo mull around the idea was a good sign. It meant that he was at least interested. In which part you didn’t bother asking.
“Eh, good enough for me!” He reached his hand out for you guys to shake on it. “So how’d you know about all that?”
You smiled “Oh the Armed Detective Agency is a part of my favorite manga” Before he could ask you added “Yes, you are my favorite character. How could I not love the world's greatest detective.” He seemed pleased with himself as he dug out some snacks from his bag. He started munching on some chips not even bothering to finish the ones in his mouth as he asked “So then you know what happens already, isn’t that boring for you?”
You hummed “Not really, the story didn’t follow you to Kyushu so this is all new for me. Oh but Kunikida and Dazai will call you in a few days to ask for help solving their case. Which is completely different from what happens in the light novel but I’ll spare you the details.”
“Interesting, so then you already know what they're going to ask and how to solve their case.”
“Technically yes, but I’m not sure how much of my actions will alter events in the future so I’d rather not say anything until the time comes.”
“Let me get this straight, you already know what’s going to happen and you’re just going to watch everything play out as it should, that’s so lame. How boring.”
You let Ranpo roast you for your decisions to stay out of the plot. At one point he scoffed at you saying that it was no wonder even though he ruined the book’s ending you still wouldn’t mind reading it. Eventually he started playing a new game where he would try to guess events that happen in the future but you didn’t tell them when they would take place. You also weren’t entirely telling the truth about some of them either but it was not like he was guessing important plot things. It was mostly ridiculous things, like side story tidbits that would happen in “Bungo Stray Dogs Wan” This seemed to keep him entertained for a while but eventually he got bored of that too. Luckily you arrived at the station before he could come up with another game. Although he put you to work immediately wanting you to fetch him more snacks and ramune. You almost regret making the offer.
In the end it would all be worth it to keep your cover with Dazai. On the next train Ranpo was too enthralled with his sugar haul to pay attention to you so your mind wandered to a certain waste of bandages. You had taken out a notepad to scribble and doodle on to pass the time. You lied to Ranpo earlier about him being your favorite character. It was Dazai. You might be a little too into liking the stupid brunette but honestly you just wanted him to be happy, to finally feel loved without thinking he doesn’t deserve it. You must have had a dreamy look on your face or something because Ranpo looked at you with disgust. “Don’t tell me you have a crush on Dazai, that’s just gross.”
You tilted your head at him “Huh?” He pointed at what you were drawing. You had drawn a collection of chibi Dazai’s all over the page. Oops you didn’t realize what you were doing. “Oh yeah, ew gross.” You tear the page out and crumple it up. Throwing it away at the first opportunity to destroy the evidence.
He laughed at your actions but didn't say anything else. When you finally arrived in Kyushu they had an escort waiting for you. Apparently your client had set up accommodations for you both. You were going to meet with them tomorrow once you’ve had time to settle overnight. During the brief you weren’t much help as expected and once Ranpo got started the most he needed you for was to fetch him refreshments as he looked over evidence. It didn't take that long to crack the case but the amount of paperwork that needed to be done was insane. All because he was from outside of Kyushu. No wonder it took three days total to finish up here. Two days were just traveling and one day of mostly paperwork.
Just like you predicted on your last day when you and Ranpo were walking around he got the call from the others. He didn't bother asking you anything assuming your passive view on the situation means you wouldn’t help but you also think it was a matter of pride. He rolled his eyes at you because he had to do all the work and maybe that’s what it really came down too. He made you get more snacks than you could carry making you more of a pack mule than a gofer. When you finally got on the train he made sure to give you an earful that he'd let it slide this time but as your superior if you knew what happened next you were to report to him about it so he doesn't have to lift a finger. You're actually not sure how serious he was about the demand. All in all it was a successful mission. It was getting late by the time you made it back to Yokohama but you still checked back in at the agency to be updated on what went down when you were gone. Not like you didn’t already know but it was nice to be kept in the loop.
Making your way back to the dorms you realized that no one gave you the keys to your room. It should be ready by now. You assumed it's because Dazai was holding them hostage. At least since no one mentioned it you figured as much. They think you two were very close it seemed or knowing Dazai he probably outright asked to do the honors. You moved to knock on his door but the moment you did it swung open. He was standing there jingling the keys in front of you. A satisfied grin plastered on his face. "My darling (Y/N), what a pleasant surprise! Could you perhaps be looking for these?"
You rolled your eyes trying to grab for the keys but he pulled them away before you could touch them. “Yes, yes very funny but I’m not in the mood to play right now. I had to entertain Ranpo for several hours and would like to get some sleep.”
He smirked knowingly, "Hmm funny you should mention Ranpo, I ran into him earlier! I don't know, maybe care to explain this?" He held up a wrinkled sheet of paper. It was the one you drew all over on the train. Goddamnit Ranpo, why? "I thought I threw that away." You could practically hear Ranpo's smug tone saying,
"I said I'd keep your secret but I never said which one."
That bastard probably went through the trash to have this blackmail. This was probably payback for making him do all the work, but he said he’d let it slide. You've been played. You needed to think of something quick "I mean to be fair I drew everyone but I had a hard time getting you to look right, like what is even going on with your hair. I bet it'd be easier drawing the slug’s weird ass hairstyle."
He shifted his weight back on to his other foot. "Is that so, then you won't mind if I keep this?" It seems bringing up Chuuya to change the subject wouldn't work a second time. Oh well, it was worth a shot.
"I already threw it in the trash. Be my guest." You grabbed the keys from him checking what number your room could be found at. Just before you left you pivoted to look at him "Oh one more thing. What did you plan to accomplish with that little stunt of yours?" Obviously it was a big question on your mind. Now that you didn’t get the inner monologues or the outsiders view you have no idea what the other could possibly be thinking.
"That was just to keep you on your toes my little belladonna~"
You huffed “I sincerely doubt that. Why would you go through all that trouble?”
“Aw, and here I thought you trusted me?” He dramatically clutched at his chest with a soft whimper as you laughed at his antics. “I can trust you implicitly but still question your motives. It’s not like I pledged my blind loyalty to you like some kind of a dog.” You were about to leave for real when you realized what episode you should be around. “Oh that reminds me, you plan on going out later right? You should say hi to your cute dog for me.” He narrowed his eyes with a slight frown “So you can see the future.” his tone went flat causing you to smile.
“Fortune telling is not an exact science but sometimes it’s used to predict the future, yes. The least I could do is try to keep up with you, my little white snake.”
You could hear Dazai stifle a laugh as you started walking away. It was proof that he got your joke. At least you were hoping that it was because he got your joke. You really tried but there wasn’t a lot of clever word play at your disposal. There was a plethora of double entendres for feminine but not a lot for masculine pronouns and you weren’t about to say the scientific name for white snakeroot, “Ageratina altissima” because it’s one hell of a mouth full. Essentially it meant something akin to “The unaging tallest” not as flattering as “beautiful lady” but it was still a poisonous plant and human descriptor so it was close enough to say you tried to put in the effort. Part of you thinks it was better than giving him any real compliment. You feel like Dazai likes the ambiguity that comes with the chase. So why not play the game?
#the BSD isekai au that no one asked for#dazai osamu x reader#dazai x reader#bsd x reader#bsd imagines
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Im gonna infodump about my ocs because I can’t stop thinking about them. This will be a book… One day. Read on with caution, this is a horror book with very dark subject matter and mild body horror.
There are two mcs, a closeted gay trans man (Eden), and a severely repressed cis gay man (Harlow). Both raised in a hyper-conservative hyper-religious Deep South town IN THE 80S.
Their story is about the deadly consequences of repression, the cycle of abuse, learned hatred and destructive coping mechanisms. Harlow grew up with an INCREDIBLY toxic father who drilled toxic masculinity into him (having feelings is shameful) as well as homophobia. He only ever demonstrated "solving" problems with violence. Harlow was never given the tools or space to unpack any of his feelings ever. So he grew up to become this repressed, horribly frustrated and confused adult who could not understand his attraction towards other men.
Being gay wasn't even a thought in his mind, it wasn't a possibility to him. His father constructed this impenetrable wall of “us” vs “them” in Harlow’s mind- and like a plant deprived of sunlight, he never grew tall enough to see over it.
All he knew was this gut-wrenching hunger, this insatiable craving for other men’s bodies which he couldn't place- something about the flesh, the warmth, he hungered for it in a way which became unbearable. This did not register to him as sexual, again, that wasn't even an option… but he didn’t know what it was. And when you don’t know how to process your own emotions, it all eventually turns into frustration/ rage. So he solved this problem in the only way he was ever taught how- with violence! He killed men, initially choosing those he deemed deserving of death, and he ate them. An attempt to satiate the hunger. This became a habitual thing and he just… kept doing it. Not because it brought him any real satisfaction, it just snowballed into an addiction and he needed his fix. His town caught on to the string of murders, but he was flying completely under everyone’s radar. We’re talking about a 6’ mullet-having yeehaw dude who’s generally reserved and works for his family’s farm, nobody was really looking at him here.
Important backstory tidbit: Harlow was taught how to hunt as a kid. His father took him on outings, which were maybe the only positive memories he had of that man- and they would hunt deer together. He was taught to always use the whole animal, never let anything go to waste- because everything is valuable.
Everything is a gift. “It’s only murder if you waste the animal” (this heavily influenced his later cannibal ways).
One day as a young teen, he found himself alone for a trip. That's when he was approached by this deer- it looked sickly, almost like it was rotting while alive (it had Chronic Wasting Disease). It was clearly suffering, made clear by its complete lack of survival instincts. It walked right up to his gun. It was in pain. He shot it to put it out of its misery, but he did not take the meat. What was he supposed to do? It was useless to him,, he couldn't eat the rotting meat, and despite that he still felt an immense guilt for leaving it behind. Killing, and just abandoning the body. It registered to him as murder. He carried that feeling of guilt with him for the rest of his life. He vowed to never discard a body again.
Eden is a trans man who knows he's trans, but is out to practically nobody during the story. He’s the youngest in his family, with four older brothers. His parents were NOT suited to be parents- they were self centred people who treated their children like accessories. The parents obsessively kept up this “picturesque good Christian family” facade to the world, but that became harder to maintain as they had more kids. They started having to cut corners financially, to the detriment of those kids. That said, every one of their children was planned. The reason they kept having kids despite their situation was because the mother wanted a daughter. Then, Eden was born, assigned female at birth. Since his birth Eden had been treated like a precious doll more so than a child- he was sheltered and only received direct attention from his parents when they needed to dress him up all pretty for Sunday service. There was an incredible amount of pressure on him to be what everyone wanted. He was also raised VERY religiously, all of which MAJORLY contributed to his inner-turmoil abt being trans. He didn’t even have a word for it, to be “trans”. Only this unmistakable discomfort, guilt and shame, feeling like something is wrong with him, feeling like god made a mistake with him. Again, conservative religious south, he has no space to explore these feelings safely. He's pushed it all down and let it fester inside until it started gnawing away at his very being.
A few years prior to the story, this began to manifest physically as a literal rot. This spot of decay on his chest that's been growing and sinking deeper into his body for years. Sloooowly eating away at him, on track to continue until there is nothing left to devour. By the start of the book it’s claimed most of the flesh on his chest- his ribcage is sparsely covered with any skin at all- and the organs beneath are made vulnerable by it. However, he is horrified to seek medical attention. He sees the rot as a marking of his sin, god has stamped his body with this ugly decay to let everyone else know he's defective.
He hides it beneath layers of clothing. Being on his chest, it’s in a place that only an intimate partner would ever see- considering he's perceived by the world as a "woman".
In a… complicated series of events involving ✨societal pressure and coercion✨, an "intimate partner" does end up seeing his chest (Eden is not clear minded when these events are taking place).
This partner reacts with repulsion and violence, to the extreme that Eden fears for his life. He kills the other man in self Defense. (This sequence alludes to the “trans panic” legal defense which is still permitted by many US courts. If you pursue someone intimately, don’t like what you see beneath their clothes, and you KILL THEM- you can claim “I panicked because I didn’t know they were trans” and get a lesser sentence. It’s bullshit and I’m gonna attempt to very delicately write this scene to highlight how bizarre and unwarranted the male partner’s violent response is. The rot in this instance is symbolic of the perceived defect).
In disposing of the body, he runs into Harlow. They find eachother in a (undecided) remote, secretive location.
You’ll never guess what Harlow is doing! Also disposing of remains (bones n guts), at the same place, face hidden while he does so. They have a mutual deer-in-headlights standoff. There IS an open case of serial murders in their small town… Harlow is responsible. Eden realizes this after a short exchange of stunned words, and totally breaks down. Heavy dialogue exchange, Eden feels completely defeated and destroyed by guilt, he just begs Harlow to kill him. Harlow responds by saying he only kills men (Eden is closeted and passes as a woman). This pushes Eden over the edge and he snaps, he shouts that he is a man, this is the first time he’s ever said it out loud. Harlow is… confused, but intrigued. He doesn’t want to kill Eden, but he’s not sure what he does want to do. He decides to knock Eden out… which he does very easily.
Eden wakes up in a different location. Some not so great smelling farmhouse of sorts. Harlow enters the room eventually and explains… “I disposed of that body for you, don’t worry about that right now. I bruised your head pretty bad when I knocked you out, sorry about that, I didn’t mean to use that much force. I made you some soup! It’ll help. The meat is pork. Don’t worry about it. Let’s talk. :3” They’re still both very unsure of each other but neither have much to lose (they also have mutual blackmail) so they start talking. AND BOOM
COMPLICATED SERIES OF EVENTS
ENSUES AND THEY BOND OVER SHARED EXPERIENCES, TEACH EACH OTHER TO UNLEARN THEIR TOXIC AND DESTRUCTIVE WAYS, HAVE A ROMANCE WHICH SERVES AS A VALIDATION ARC FOR EDEN AND A SELF-ACCEPTANCE ARC FOR HARLOW AND YADA YADA. They are both profoundly disturbed individuals who have done terrible things but the whole point is to hold a magnifying glass to their actions and point out HOW and WHY they fucked up. To condemn that path, the mindset behind it, and the people who carried on those abusive cycles before them. I want to thoroughly examine and chip away at the layers of external influence that lead these characters to their lowest life points- and reveal the truth beneath them. These were once children, full of love and openness as we all once were- the problem is larger than the individual, it’s a societal issue of passed down bigotry and stubborn refusal to progress. It’s a toxic cycle of violence with very real, very deadly consequences for all involved. The characters both do BAD things, that’s the POINT.
Important backstory tidbit: In Eden’s childhood, he found a baby bird fallen a long ways from its nest. It was hurt, and he brought it inside to a small cage. He figured the cage would serve as protection for the bird as it grew- it was so delicate, it needed the shelter. But that cage was tiny. He fed the bird, tried to take care of it and gave it all its base survival needs. The bird was offered food, water and a cage. But that is all. That’s all Eden was given in his home, he thought that meant it was enough. He watched it grow into a young dove, but as it aged it only got sicker. This bird was deteriorating before his eyes and he couldn't understand why- he feared it would die in that cage. As soon as it became old enough to fly, Eden made the decision to release the bird. It was sicker than ever, Eden knew it didn't have long. He knew releasing it would practically be a death sentence, but it was going to die soon either way. He did not want the bird to die in the cage.
When released, the dove didn't even know how to flap its wings properly. The cage was too small to stretch them out, it had never even had the chance to learn how to fly. It didn't know how to find food. It didn’t know how to identify danger. And on the next morning, Eden found that bird on the ground outside of his house, dead. It was being picked away at by a vulture.
Eden felt relief.
The bird had died. It didn't make it. But it brought him peace to know it didn't die in that cage. That bird had never known the love of its mother, or siblings, it had never known what it was like to be wanted and cherished. That role was left to the vulture, who had never turned away from the unsightly or damaged. It had swooped in with the unconditional love of an angel, and carried the dove off into the sky above- its stomach, a chariot to heaven. It was gruesome watching the vulture feast- but it had such a tender appreciation in its eyes. It kept the circle of life in motion. In a way, Eden found this ending happy.
Eden’s symbolic bird is a dove, Harlow’s symbolic bird is a vulture.
They both die at the end of the story.
They'd become very close over the span of it though- they resolved their issues together, but in doing that they found themselves further ostracized from the world around them. They backed themselves further and further away from the world, until they finally hit a corner. Their past destructive actions were also catching up to them- the murders that is, they ended up on the run from police. It all came back to bite them.
The rot on Eden’s chest had spread throughout his entire body, and it was past the point of no return. No medical intervention would help at this point. One night, after a close encounter with police left them both wounded- Eden and Harlow both realized that these were Eden’s last few hours.
His body was decayed and rotted, he was sick, he was injured, he was visibly suffering. He would die soon, it was inevitable. Harlow decides to put him out of his misery. But he couldn’t stand the thought of discarding the body. He didn’t want him to die unloved.
Reaching into Eden's exposed ribcage, Harlow removed his heart from his chest. He knew this would be a death sentence, but he was going to die either way. He didn't want him to die in the cage.
He ate the heart, rotting and tainted as it was, he saw every part of his lover as a gift. Nothing goes to waste, for every rotting animal there is a grateful vulture. One which will see your defect and cherish you all the same.
Is now a good time to address the name Eden? I feel like most people are familiar with the gay love = forbidden fruit and/or cannibalism = forbidden fruit metaphor… yk, the embrace of supposed sin, being arbitrarily kept from the sweet, nutritious fruit of the garden. Passing through the gates of Eden (ribcage again) and eating the apple (his heart).
:3 anyways
Harlowstayed with the body until he also died (unrelated wounds from the chase). Decades later they would be found as skeletons in an unmistakable embrace, none of the flesh which made people scorn them during their lives. They were seen as lovers then, and were finally understood.
ALSO ALSO SO SYMBOLISM RIGHT. RELIGIOUS SYMBOLISM??? REMEMBER HOW EDEN WAS RAISED AS HYPER-RELIGIOUS???
So cannibalism as a metaphor for QUEERNESS now. A craving for the forbidden flesh. To partake in another's body in the most intimate and fulfilling way. But living in a world that sees it as repulsive…
Right? You with me?
Ok and then the inherent divinity of transness. To partake in the act of creation alongside God, to resculpt yourself in divine image. Jesus was not simply born of genetic material (yk how transphobes love to say “blah blah blah you can’t change your chromosomes!!” Like… if we use that logic, Jesus is trans. He’d have XX chromosomes because... miraculous conception.
No sperm, which provides the Y chromosome, which creates a male body. BUT OBVIOUSLY THAT DOESNT FUCKING MATTER BECAUSE HES A MAN REGARDLESS!!!! JESUS WAS A DUDE!!!). He was created by WILL.
The will of god, a version of himself, to BE!!! Fully human, fully god, flesh and blood in an image he himself designed. Holy trinity being the same entity and all, Jesus’s body was his own design in a way.
YOU WITH ME???
OK
OKAY AND SO.
GAY CANNIBALISM… TRANS LOVER.
TO
TO PARTAKE IN THE BLOOD AND BODY OF CHRIST. THEOPHAGY.
THE ULTIMATE HOLY COMMUNION.
TO CONSUME YOUR LOVER AS AN ACT OF WORSHIP, CONVEYING YOUR LOVE FOR EVERY PART OF THE BODY THEY'VE GROWN TO DISPISE. TAKING A PHYSICAL PIECE OF THEIR LIFE INTO YOURS AND UNITING YOUR VERY BEINGS. UNCONDITIONAL AND ETERNAL LOVE, DESPITE ONE’S FLAWS.
TO THINK OF YOURSELF AS CARRION AND BE FOUND BY THE MOST GRATEFUL VULTURE.
A DEAD AND ROTTING GOD STILL BRINGS LIFE TO THE MAGGOTS WHICH FEED ON ITS CORPSE!!!
RAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I’m unwell I’m unwell I’m unwell I need to actually get to writing this NOW
#my ocs#ocs#original character#original writing#writing#cannibalposting#cannibalism#horror#horror writing#queer author#queer fiction#book wip#dark romance
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I'm sick and could use some fluff, sooo... Whichever on you're feeling, Eden or Darius. They come home early and catch their s/o working on a special surprise for them. Maybe an extra special meal, or a gift. They don't strike me as guys who get thoughtful gifts often.
I'm going with Eden because I'm in my forest husband mood today.
Warning - I go into describing Eden hunting and butchering a boar. But hey, it's Eden, it's the reality of what he does. And it's Eden POV, so some angst when it comes to his self image. But it's the angst before the fluff.
It had been a labour intensive day for the hunter. He'd had to spend more time than usual looking after his crop - some parasites had begun to nibble at the carrots - so he'd had to remove them before they could spread.
Then when he'd gone out to hunt he'd come across a rather territorial male boar in rut. Breeding season, his least favourite time of year. The damned beast had almost gored him, but he'd luckily gotten off a shot just in time.
His heart had dropped to his stomach as the hog had continued on its path before stumbling and falling, but then relief had flooded his veins instead. That was a lot of meat. It would be a while before he'd have to hunt again.
The downside, of course, was carrying the damn thing back home. And butchering the meat so that it wouldn't leak literal shit on the good stuff in transport left him open to wolves and bears. He'd managed to bag up the insides and haul the rest without an attack, though he'd been looking over his shoulder the entire time.
When he'd made it back to his familiar clearing, he'd been covered in sweat, his hands still stained with the blood of the boar despite him having rubbed them in the river for a few minutes. Not that it mattered, he'd only get more on him when he finished the preparation. A hot bath would be ready after. You always took care of that.
He vaguely remembers having smelt something sweet in the air, but had disregarded it as another baking experiment of yours. You'd been on a kick with it lately: cookies and cakes and pastries. He'd cherished every one of them.
The hide would have to be rid of hair - boars are too coarse to use for bedding or clothes. The dried hide could be sold to tanners to make leather though, and pay for his next supply run. Even if he dreaded going to that damned market in town.
Anxiety built the more he got in his head about the market. He didn't want to make you go, he'd seen enough people try to pay through illicit means and he didn't want to subject you to those perverts. At least they left him alone now, with his ugly damn face and ogre-like body.
God, it was a wonder you touched him. Someone as beautiful as yourself, so kind and generous, stuck with him. A man not much different than the beasts he shared the forest with. You even had the kindness - or perhaps, pity - to look at him as though you did like how he looked. Kissing his scars, playing with his hair that he doesn't take care of like he should.
Truly an impressive act you put on. Not that he blames you. The alternative is to tell the truth about his hideaousness and be stuck with him being more miserable than usual.
Eden doesn't notice when you approach, some lunch ready for him. When your gentle hand brushes his shoulder he almost jumps, hand grasping his butchering knife tighter until it registers that its just his darling spouse.
"Some roasted chestnuts, Love, we're running low on fruit again."
And there it is, that damned almost angelic smile and look of love in your eyes.
"I'll see what I can find next time I'm out," he grumbles.
He tries to hide the sour mood he's in, kissing your forehead before grabbing a rag and moving to the washing basin he keeps to clean up. With soap this time.
You don't comment on it, instead taking the meat he'd already cut up to cure in salt, jar, or smoke for storage. He didn't even need to ask you. He never does, you just know what needs done and when.
And the chestnuts are great. Everything about you and everything you do is just amazing. Even on your off days when you crawl into his lap and cry, you're just perfect. And he's... Competent, he guesses.
All of his muscles ache by the time he's done with the boar, you fetching the cuts in between filling up pails of water for the bath. He still has to chop some more firewood, though, and he forces himself to do enough to last three days so he can recover. Some of that salve you make will help with the aches and pains. Again, you being perfect.
The hunter is exhausted when he stumbles into the cabin, but not so much so that he doesn't notice that food is already being prepared. You've cut steaks from the back meat of the boar and they're in a pot, the fragrances delicious as they slowly cook. He can even scent the herbs you rub the cuts with.
You wait for him in the bath, shuffling forward so he can join and nestling close when he's situated. Those wonderful hands waste no time in rubbing his skin clean, massaging his scalp and thumbing over the callouses on his hands.
He's so tired, ready to just fall asleep as you pamper him, but it wouldn't be fair. You deserve more. So he returns the favour with heavy eyelids, and joins you as you leave the tub instead of staying in longer as he usually does.
"I'll drain it," he yawns after drying and putting on his evening wear. "You cooked dinner when I was meant to, I'll drain it."
He really should get around to putting in some pipes just to make draining the tub easier instead of having the push it to the porch and tip the damn thing. Eventually he'll get to it.
Dinner is plated when he comes back in, you waiting for him to sit so you can climb in his lap and the two of you can take turns taking bites. Sure, you could just get two plates. But then he'd miss out on this intimacy. And he needs this. He needs to hold you close. You had made some banana bread to eat after.
Your baking and cooking almost made the trips to town worth it for the extra ingredients.
"I've got the dishes."
You take them as he moves to his chair in front of the fire, the hunter sighing deeply as he sinks down into the chair and stares into the flames. He almost lets his eyes rest when something catches his attention, the fire's light reflecting off of it beneath a drawer in the corner of his eye.
Eden makes his way over to it, a piece of metal sticking out from under the drawer. He doesn't remember putting anything beneath there.
He pulls it out and only faces more confusion. It's a gun strap - one he doesn't remember making himself - the metal being clasps to secure it. Along the leather is an intricate embroiderd pattern only half done. Leaves and flowers, painstakingly threaded through the leather. A very tough job.
"Shit! You weren't meant to see that yet!" You call out from the kitchen area, obviously alarmed.
"... you've been making this for me?" Eden clears his throat, self-conscious about how high his voice was. Like a child.
"Yeah, it's been taking forever but I really wanted to do something special as a surprise since we've almost been together for a year now. You came home earlier than I thought you would have, so I must have messed up hiding it in a panic."
He doesn't like how sad you sound that your gift was found this early. His cheeks heat up, he can't look at you. Instead, he focuses on the foliage on the holster.
"They're, ah. They're all the herbs and flowers I put on your favourite meal. Sort of like a good luck charm that you'll get a good deer for it, I guess?"
New warmth blooms in his chest, his thumbs stroking each plant with reverence. When was the last time he had received a gift? He couldn't even remember. Especially not one this thoughtful.
"You don't like it, do you? I'm sorry, it was stupid, I'll-"
His stupid grumpy face making you sad again. As always.
Eden holds it away from you as you come to take it away, instead dipping his head down and kissing you deeply. You melt into his kiss, hands resting on his chest and body pressing against his as his free hand circles your waist.
"I love it," he mutters against your lips, "has it really almost been a year already?"
Your gorgeous laughter returns. "Time flies, huh?"
And yet it also feels like you've never not been here.
"You want me to finish it for you?"
"Please," he almost sounds like he's begging. He doesn't quite mind this time.
Your nose scrunches up in an adorable way. "Yeah your old ones starting to grow mold."
"It's not mold."
You silence him with another sweet kiss. It's really not mold though, just some really bad freying. He'd always taken care of his things until they fell apart.
"I don't know what to get you. I'm not the best at giving gifts," he sighs as he guides you both to the chair, once again settling into a comfortable embrace once you'd fetched your tools.
Your head cocks as you consider your answer, the light from the fire illuminating your face and somehow just highlighting every feature he loves.
"Oh I have everything I need already," you smile as you use wax to place a guide for the thread. "I have a comfy home away from all of the bullshit, a warm bed at night, great fresh food to eat, brilliant sex, and on top of it all the one who I do the brilliant sex with is the hottest piece of ass there is."
Well now he's back to blushing. Though happily, for an entirely different reason.
"And you better not argue about that mister."
"If you insist," he pushes back. He can't help it, really. It sounds so genuine but. How? How can you think that?
"I do insist," you shoot back, tone deadly serious as you look him in the eye.
And for the first time he can remember, he believes you.
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The surprise Chapter 2 to my flashfic "The Artist's Daughter," which I originally posted as a one-shot for last year's Dramione Month (royal AU) is now up and available for reading. For those of you who asked and waited, this one's for you <3
See below for a sneak peek:
It wasn’t long until Draco once again saw Hermione, only this time it was she who surprised him.
He was in the music room working through scales and arpeggios on the piano, so focused on perfection in his increased tempo that he didn’t notice his audience.
He’d played the instrument almost since he could walk, his mother sitting with him in her lap as she wrapped her arms around him and played a simple lullaby.
He was a natural on the keys, his long, slender fingers spanning ten keys with ease, and he sight read pieces with frightening accuracy. He preened at the praises heaped upon him at his recitals. It would have been so easy for him to coast on his talent, none the wiser, if not for his father.
A man to whom results meant everything.
King Lucius made it clear that no Malfoy would accept second best, no matter the subject.
The very next day, Draco was introduced to Theodore Nott, the son of his father’s advisor.
In addition to Draco’s private lessons, he would now be required to attend Master Class alongside Theodore and a handful of other advanced students. Draco had been so confident in his own abilities. Too confident. He assumed he would be the best pianist—his mother certainly made him think so.
When Theodore sat down and moved his hands across the ivory keys, Draco realised the world was so much bigger than he had originally assumed.
The other boy played with emotions Draco couldn’t even pretend to understand. He wanted to weep at the haunting melody that seeped into his pores, making him want, want, want.
What he wanted, he didn’t know.
Draco went back to the fundamentals. Scales. Arpeggios. Exercises focusing on technique and accuracy. What he lacked in feeling he was determined to surpass with skill.
Applause halted him right before his transition to A-flat minor.
“Oh, it’s you!” He flushed at the sight of Hermione standing just in the doorway. He hadn’t expected her here of all places.
“I didn’t know you played piano!” she exclaimed. She approached him before he could say anything more, leaning over to peer inside the open lid.
Read the rest here on AO3.
#harry potter fanfiction#dramione#dhr fanfiction#draco malfoy x hermione granger#hermione granger#draco malfoy#royal au
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Chenford Fanfic: About Last Night
The Rookie Fanfiction | Chenford | One shot | 5K | Rated T | 5x01 Alternate Take | Sharing a Bed | Repressed feelings | Chenford Week '23
Story summary: Chenford, Vegas, and the one bed trope
In a world where their undercover op isn't interrupted, Lucy and Tim must find a way to share a bed one night in Las Vegas.
One day last November, my friend @heatherelf77 shared the following tweet, and it got my brain a'thinkin'.
My first thought was of a scene from the 1934 film It Happened One Night, when Clark Gable creates a room divider out of a blanket between his and Claudette Colbert's beds. I imagined Tim doing his own version of that for sharing a bed with Lucy, and it went from there.
Read an excerpt below, or jump on over to AO3 to read it now!
Lucy opened the bathroom door to find Tim arranging pillows on the bed.
“What are you doing?” she asked, amusement plain on her face and barely able to contain her laughter.
Tim paused and looked up at her. Why did he feel like she caught him doing something he shouldn’t?
“I’m creating a, uh–,” he gestured with his arm, moving it horizontally over the bed from head to toe and back again.
“A pillow wall?” she asked.
Tim looked sheepish under her gaze and shrugged one shoulder.
“Tim…” Lucy swallowed a grin, trying to maintain her professionalism “… do you really think that’s necessary?”
His cheeks flushed with embarrassment over the thought of admitting out loud that he was worried about being able to resist his attraction to her—especially when she had already made it clear that she didn’t feel the same way.
“I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable. I know that this wasn’t part of the plan.”
“It wasn’t. But I can keep my hands to myself if you can.”
Tim held his tongue. That was certainly a loaded subject, and one he had already given far too much thought to in the past 24 hours. He knew he didn’t trust himself to answer. Avoiding the topic, he rolled his eyes and chucked a pillow in her direction.
“Fine,” he relented, and started to place the pillows back at the head of the bed. “Which side of the bed do you sleep on?”
“You choose,” she offered, before tossing the pillow back to him. “It really doesn’t matter to me.”
A knock and a voice diverted their attention to the door.
“Room service.”
Lucy was already making her way to the door when Tim stopped her.
“Wait,” he said in a firm, but quiet voice, causing Lucy to turn to look at him. She noticed his hand hovering behind the firearm tucked away at the small of his back.
“I’ve got it,” she reassured him. “It’s okay.”
“I know you do,” he returned, stepping in close and lowering his voice. “I just don’t like this. Any of this. I keep feeling like something is going to go wrong or our cover’s going to be blown.” He peered through the peephole to find a waiter with a room service cart on the other side. Keeping his hand behind his back, Tim opened the door, then poked his head out to look up and down the hallway.
The coast was clear.
“Baby,” Lucy cooed, walking toward Tim, “you got us room service?” Her fingers curled around his biceps and the tips of her press-on nails sent a shiver through his body.
He turned his head to look at her, and dammit, the way she looked up at him with adoration written so plainly across her face reminded him she could turn her undercover persona on and off so easily. If he didn’t know any better, he’d believe she was actually into him. And it was his job to play along.
Read on AO3
#chenford#chenford fanfic#chenfordweek23#lucy chen#tim bradford#oneshot fic#The Rookie 5x01#episode 5x01 alternate take#TV tropes#sharing a bed#undercover and under the covers#tim x lucy#lucy x tim#the rookie#read on ao3#by SoloOjoJojo#Fics inspired by tweets#Fics inspired by HeatherElf77
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Tamlin Week Day 5
I know this isn't exactly the type of content you would expect from me for the prompt shapeshifter of @tamlinweek, but as soon as I saw this coloring page by @thrumugnyr I couldn't resist the urge to open Paint and give myself a hour break to colour it like I used to do back when computers were not that accessible and made the sounds of an aerospace engine. I know it's not perfect, and that there will be at least a million people far more talented than me who will make this wonderful drawing into a true masterpiece, but you can't understand how grateful I am for the childlike joy you gave me, so I thought I'd share the result along with a short scene it inspired
Plot: War is only a distant memory, the Spring Court has returned to its former glory, and Tamlin is finally coming back to understand what it means to be loved.
Pairing: Tamlin x Elain x Lucien if you want to see it that way, just Elucien if you're not into throuples. Obviously, it's Tamlin centric.
Words: 444
Tamlin was dozing in the shade of a wisteria-covered gazebo, his large paws resting under his snout like a pillow, when he heard a disturbance in the silence of a lazy, clear afternoon. Elain must’ve noticed it too, her legs tensing a little on his side, but her delicate hands kept stroking the golden fur on his spine, the area she was preparing to be adorned with little, bright pink daphne flowers. It was one of her favourite pastimes, when he was in his beast form, to cover him in colourful arrangements.
“To make you less scary,” she had said when he confronted her after the second or third time it happened. “More approachable for the children.”
Tamlin was nearly sure it was an innocent lie to safe face, but he didn't mind the attention, or all those younglings hanging on his property, looking for advice about horse-riding, gardening, and love matters, therefore he had no intention of pressing the matter to obtain a more exhaustive answer. He didn't want to frighten her, or see her return to her sisters after the less than amicable departure from the Night Court that gave him a pretext to rebuild his friendship with Lucien. Against all odds, his best friend’s mate, the sister of the one who had broken his heart and robbed him of his subjects’ trust, had been a pleasant addition at the Manor; where Feyre was stubborn and immovable, Elain was affable and ready for constructive confrontations, and on those same occasions in which the youngest Archeron would’ve withdrawn into herself and put on a defensive attitude, the middle one had been able to remain objective and even help him.
“Have you really been lounging around here all this time?” Lucien asked, cheerfully, once he was within their field of vision. Tamlin sat up lazily, showing a hint of fangs at the emissary, a tacit warning not to interrupt the sacredness of their bonding.
“What do you think, did I exaggerate on the antlers?” Elain asked, nodding toward the intricate ivy wreath she had wrapped around the entire lenght.
“I think they’re gorgeous,” he replied, finally allowed to be soft and careless, before giving her a light kiss on the temple and dropping behind her, the back Tamlin had once been forced to whip resting on his side.
“Don’t stop on my account,” he added as he made himself comfortable, sinking down until his head was on the beast’s belly, like they used to sit in the meadow when he first came from Autumn, when Elain turned to shot him a questioning look. “I just wanted to spend some time with my favourite people.”
#tamlinweek2024#tamlain#tamcien#tamlin x elain x lucien#i want them to live a soft life#they all deserve to heal and be peaceful
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a little Euna / Zeya flashback. Zeyna, if you will
this post i made a few days ago was driving me insane and i was possessed to write a little drabble that probably won't make the draft. this happens about a cycle (the equivalent of a month) before the events of the gemini heist. no real spoilers, but there is a little context revealed about Zeya's place in the crew before she went rogue.
words: 874
the gemini heist wip intro
EDIT: this drabble has a doodle now
Euna had barely stepped into the mess hall before a blue plasma dagger was at her throat.
Quick as lightning, she grabbed the arm that had her in a chokehold and yanked it off, flinging her attacker around. It took only a moment before a second, pink laser blade slashed at Euna’s right arm, creating a long, dark burnt streak along the plastic. Euna blindly lunged at the tiny person, but they leapt out of the way just in time, hopping onto the table and using it as a launching pad to grab one of the pipes running along the ceiling and haul themself up. They swung their body back and, on the return swing, kicked at Euna’s head. She dodged the boot— slamming into a shelf in the process, from which several cans of preserves noisily rolled off the sides— and fired at the ceiling with the blaster built into her cybernetic hand. The shot hit the pipe. It hissed, leaking steam into the room. The attacker plummeted. Before they could scramble away and take out their daggers again, Euna had both their hands pinned to the ground and a knee pressed against their chest.
For a moment, they both stayed still, breathlessly glaring at each other. Then Euna grinned.
“You’re not even trying anymore,” she said, releasing her hold on Zeya and getting to her feet.
Zeya simply smirked, shoving her sweat-dampened, shoulder-length dark hair out of her face as she sat up. Her eyes flitted up to the still-hissing pipe.
“Ah, shit,” Euna lamented, following her gaze. “Cap’s gonna kill us.”
“Not if you tell her you were stopping me from trying to escape again,” Zeya said with a shrug. For someone who carried two plasma daggers— they had been confiscated multiple times, but Zeya somehow always managed to get them back— her voice was surprisingly soft and feathery. Euna was still getting used to hearing it, as only recently did Zeya begin to talk around the other crewmates, and even then, it was very scarce to catch her talking to anyone but the Captain.
“Right. So she’s just gonna kill me. We all know you’re the Captain’s favourite no matter how many times you’ve tried to run.” Euna opened the fridge and pulled out two cans of iced lava root tea. She handed one to Zeya, still sitting, cross-legged, on the floor. “Also, was that you trying to escape? It looked like you just wanted to get your ass kicked.”
Zeya wordlessly took the tea and fiddled with the tab. Euna peered at her as she opened her own drink and took a swig. It was impossible to tell what Zeya was thinking at any given moment— her face was always so stony, she could either be contemplating her next attempted stabbing or trying to decide her next meal— but Euna had the impression the comment about the Captain had irked her.
“I was kidding, you know. About the favourites thing,” Euna said. “I just think Cap likes having you on the crew and wants you to stay once your contract is up.”
Zeya once again remained silent. She opened her can, but instead of drinking it, she picked at the tab with her fingernail. I probably should’ve just kept my mouth shut, Euna thought. Zeya’s contract was a touchy subject for her— based on the multiple attempts to escape the six cycle agreement to work for the Sirens without a cut of the crew’s earnings in exchange for food, lodging, and most importantly, not getting thrown out of the airlock for breaking into the ship and trying to steal from them in the first place, it was clear that she deeply resented the arrangement.
But there was just over one cycle left before the contract was up, and in the last few weeks, there had been a tangible shift in the air, particularly in the way Captain Callisto interacted with Zeya. Everyone on the crew had noticed the way the Captain let little infractions slide, the way she let Zeya have a bit of an allowance to spend when the ship docked, the way she stopped confiscating the plasma daggers… And while Euna wouldn’t have minded having someone to spar with for a bit longer, eyebrows were being raised.
The Captain denied any favouritism, but the last time someone had mentioned it around Zeya, she had pulled out her daggers, and it wasn’t Zeya who’d spent the night in the brig for “trying to start shit”.
“Forget I said anything,” Euna said quickly, not wanting to get into a real fight with Zeya right now. Not when the scar on her arm was still fresh. Gabi was probably going to think she was so annoying for needing repairs again. “I didn’t talk about the Captain, I didn’t talk about the contract—”
Zeya ripped the tab off her can and flicked it at Euna’s face, hitting her squarely in the cheek.
“Hey,” Euna protested as Zeya silently stormed out of the room with her drink, but didn’t make a move to follow her.
She might not be the brightest person on the ship, but Euna knew it was best not to provoke a woman with two plasma daggers and a grudge.
#wip gemini heist#gh excerpts#zeya kade#euna li#zeyna#i haven't written or posted a drabble in a while. this feels strange#i had to google 'thing on a can that you use to open it' to write this#i really said i was gonna do an AR world building series and did this instead lmao sorry
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Date Night
A/N: second installment of Fwb Matty. Based on this and included a few different things we talked about yesterday. Let me know what you think!
Warnings: smut, very mild angst. Some sub-ish Matty? Do we like him? Prefer dom!Matty? Both? Neither? Thoughts?
———
“You’re late.” Her eyes sized him up, hand on her hip, heel tapping against the floor.
Matty knew he’d fucked up, but it was an honest mistake. He’d genuinely lost track of time. After a long week of getting nowhere with producing his new record, just as he was about to leave, a lightbulb went off in his head and he had to see it through. He had no idea the restaurant would have closed by the time that he remembered to look up from his desk.
“I- I know. Sorry-“ he moved to walk through her doorway but her body didn’t budge. She wouldn’t let him in.
Matty’s face betrayed him. His remorse, and the surprise at her reaction, written all over his features. “You gonna let me in?” He asked a bit hesitant.
“Why should I?” She sighed, not giving him a chance to answer before she spoke again. “Do you remember WHY you set up this dinner in the first place?”
“Look, I said I’m sorry-“
“I asked you a question.”
“I- I do remember. Your date blew you off and…I said I’d take you out. Show you how you’re meant to be treated.”
“Yeah, you really fuckin’ nailed it, didn’t you?” She looked away from him at the passersby, suddenly aware the people on the street were subjected to their fight.
“I’m sorry, okay? Now let me in so I can explain.”
“Matty it’s almost midnight. Just go home. I don’t wanna hear it.” She spoke softer. Her arms wrapping around her torso defensively.
“ just- let me in and we can talk. Hmm?” Matty stepped forward, she turned around and walked in, finally giving him the space to slide through the door and shut it behind him.
“You know what? I’m not doing this. I’m going to bed. Stay, leave, it’s really up to you.”
He rushed behind her, grabbing her arm. “I was in the studio okay?! I had work to do! I couldn’t just drop it and leave! It’s not the kind of thing that I can just pick back up the next day. I had to see this through. And maybe if you weren’t so keen on being angry, you’d understand. My job- it’s different.”
“Oh, yeah, sorry. Forgot. You’re a genius. the rules don’t apply to you!”
She was pushing his buttons. He absolutely hated when anyone compared his personal tendencies to the self-important musician types who glorified their own “genius.”
“The fuck is the matter with you? I didn’t say that. I don’t care!”
“Yes, you don’t care. You’ve made that very clear. How little you care about my time and my feelings. You had to work? Fine. I get that. Couldn’t even spare me a text? Postpone? Let me know you’re not fucking coming so I don’t spend my whole fucking night waiting around for you like a fool in this stupid outfit and- just- you don’t get it. You never will.” She pried her arm out of his hold and walked down the hall.
Matty ran his fingers through his hair, huffing in frustration. “Your ego’s just bruised cuz of that dickhead who pied you off. ‘S the only reason we’re even havin’ this conversation right now.”He shot back, saying exactly the right words to get a rise of her.
“Get the fuck out. Out! Now!” She shoved him with all the strength she could muster and he almost tripped backwards.
“Fine. Don’t have to tell me twice.”
Before Matty made it to her front door, he heard her slam the bedroom door shut, and begin to cry.
“Fuck me.” He whispered under his breath, his hand on the apartment doorknob.
***
Matty had been standing in front of her bedroom door for ages. Listening to her sniffle and cry in there. All alone. And kicking himself for how insensitive he’d been. He wanted to go in there and apologize immediately, but he was afraid that if he opened his mouth again, he’d only make things worse. He took a deep breath, steadying himself, and knocked on her door.
“Go away, Matty!”
“No! I mean- respectfully, I- I’m not going anywhere. May I come in?”
He took her silence as a yes and opened the door hesitantly, peaking his head through the small crack. The sight that his eyes landed on made his stomach turn.
In the dim light of the bedside lamp, he saw her sitting at the edge of the bed, makeup colored tear stains running down her face. “Oh, darlin’ I’m so sorry.”
She covered her face with her hands, sobbing into her palms and dreading having to talk to him.
Matty moved towards her slowly and delicately, whispering apologies and hoping she’d look at him. He crouched down on the floor, sitting on his knees and reached for her hands.
“Please, look at me. Please?” He pulled at her wrists, prying her hands away from her face and wiping her tears gently with the back of his hand. “I’m sorry. Yeah? Sorry. Really. What I did- no excuses. And what I said to you was awful.”
She made several failed attempts to stop her crying. Mumbling incoherently. “I- I’m- don’t- it’s no big deal.” She sighed, letting her tears fall onto his hands.
“Yes it is.”
“N-no. You are not the first or last person on the planet to forget about a dinner plan with a friend. Don’t know why I’m being so dramatic.”
“You’re not being dramatic. I gave you my word. Told you I’d show you how you ought to expect guys to treat you, and then I went and- and fuckin abandoned you! What kind of friend does that?”
Her eyes finally met his. She could see the regret all over his face. Matty was good at arguing his way out of anything. He had a smart mouth on him, and that charming smile that would bring anyone to their knees. But, this, right now, was different. It was him who was on his knees. And she believed every word that he said.
“I- I really did want to spend the evening with you. I promise. Time just- got away from me.”
She smiled softly. “Yeah,” nodding. “I know how you get when you’re in the zone.”
His face relaxed. “Yeah, but that’s no excuse. I- could’ve at least texted. Just didn’t realize how much time had gone by. Came over as soon as I noticed. Please forgive me?”
Matty rested his head in her lap. “Gosh. Look at the dress you’re wearing. You made an effort. Went to all this trouble.”
She nodded, righteous indignation suddenly hitting her again. “I did. Actually tried to look nice. Thought you would too. I mean, I know it was a little little friend date, but, with my tragic dating history…I don’t know. I was excited not to have to be nervous or pretend to be someone I’m not. Cuz it’d be just us. Just you and me.”
Every word she spoke shot daggers into Matty’s heart. He’d all but crushed her sprit. “I’m such a fuckin’ idiot. Oh, gosh. Please lemme make it up to you. Tonight! Like, right now! I’ll get us dinner. Or, if it’s too late, I’ll cook for you.” He looked up at her, his eyes silently begging.
She paused for a moment, thinking, and taking in his compromised position, when an idea popped into her head. “I have a better idea.” A devilish smile crept on her face.
***
“Ahh! Ahh- hurts. Baby, it hurtsss” Matty cried out, fighting the tears that formed in the corners of his eyes. She’s been touching him for what felt like hours. Waiting for him to get right to the edge, and then stopping just as he starts to feel good. He was now beyond sensitive. Every inch on his skin feeling hot as fire. He was certain his sweat had drenched the bedsheets, and, more than anything, he was feeling a bit light-headed.
“Do you wanna stop?” She asked, her hand hovering dangerously close, but not quite touching him.
Matty stared at her mutely, trying to think through his answer, but his head was scrambled, his eyes glassy. He wasn’t entirely sure she was present. If they stop, the torture goes away. But, he knew she was having fun. And this was about her, not him. “W-wanna- make you happy. Wanna be good. For you.”
That was all she needed to hear. She went back to pumping him, mercilessly.
“Ah! Fuck! That’s - in-intense! Can I cum now? Please? Can I?”
“Not yet. Matty, don’t you dare.”
“I won’t, I won’t, I promise!” He repeated over and over.
Once again, just as he felt a hot wave of pleasure rush over him, she took her touch away, leaving him writhing. “Fuckkkk- that hurts!!” He yelled out. Tears finally streaming down his face. She stared at him for a long while, seemingly hypnotized by the sight of him so uncontrolled. His chest rising and falling, flushed and red all over, sweat dropping down his body, curving at his muscles; his hair splayed over the pillow, his eyes red and watering, his lips red and bitten over. He was perfect.
She placed a gentle hand on his cheek and he titled his head slightly to kiss it.
“You doing okay, Matty?”
“Dizzy.” He mumbled. He loved when she said his name.
“We should stop then.” She tore herself away from him to pull his boxers back over his legs. For a brief moment, she saw a look flash over his eyes and thought she’d hear a flood of complaints. That she’s put him through all this for nothing. That he had to cum at the end. That this wasn’t fair. But, Matty said nothing.
“Can I get you anything? Some water? You look out of it. You feeling alright?”
It took him a moment to muster some strength, but he eventually smiled softly. “D-did you, umm, have fun?”
“Yeah, plenty of fun.”
“Then- uh, yeah. I’m okay.” Matty sighed, closing his eyes for a second, before opening them again to look up at her. “Can I- could I stay the night? Please?”
“Of course, Matty. Always.” She placed a quick peck on his lips before scrambling to her feet to grab him some water and a change of clothes. “Think I’ve got some of your clothes around here somewhere.”
“Uh, hey, are you still mad at me? I mean- forgive me?” Matty mumbled into the duvet as she pulled it over his body.
“Oh, Matty, I forgave you before we even started.”
“Yeah?”
“Would’ve forgiven you, either way. That’s the wild thing about you, mate. Can never stay mad at you.”
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Tumblr, AI, and The Impossible Year
I'm very disappointed by the news that Tumblr's content is going to be used to train AI. with a default Opt-In and questionable means of opting out.
As an artist, this is something I cannot abide.
From January 1, 2012 to January 1, 2014 I shot and posted a Polaroid photograph a day to this site, and when the pandemic hit in 2020 I resumed in April of that year and carried through (although less strictly) until May of 2021.
This was all posted to theimpossibleyear.tumblr.com / theimpossibleyear.com.
It was a personal blog, and a deeply personal project. I showed what I was doing every day for multiple years.
There are literally hundreds of people featured throughout this project. Friends, family, colleagues, some of whom I had fallings out with, and some whom have since passed away.
These folks did not consent to have their likenesses used to train facial recognition algorithms or AI image generators.
According to US copyright law, I am the owner to the photographs, and I can sublicense them however I want. I'm not keen on Tumblr doing the same. And while social media sites like Tumblr always had the rights to do things like this in their privacy policies, tools like Dall-E and Midjourney didn't exist at the time, and I never conceived of such a thing.
My personal views on AI aside, I don't think allowing the likenesses of these folks to be bought and sold in such a way without their consent is ethical. Hypothetically I could reach out to every single one of them (or at least those still living) and ask for their consent, but aside from the tedium and awkwardness of having to repeatedly have that conversation, including with some folks I no longer associate with, I simply don't want to.
Additionally, I don't believe most folks really understand machine learning algorithms, large language models, and AI image generators, and I think honestly, it would be extremely hard to get informed consent for such a matter, and I sincerely believe most people would say 'No' if they understood it.
I believe artists should be compensated for their work, and I believe when that work is used for profit that the subjects of such work either need to have consented to that first. And, through that lens, the entitled beliefs of the people behind corporations like Open-AI and Midjourney, that they should be able to train off this work for free absolutely disgusts me. And I am disheartened to see Tumblr go the same route.
I do believe there are positive sides to AI, I do believe it is somewhat inevitable, but I do not believe the ends justify these means.
While I believe strongly in the public domain and creative commons, and I think US copyright law is deeply broken, I also know how hard it is to make a living as an artist. I will not I cannot sit by and just allow my own work, my own memories, my friends, family, and loved ones to be used as a tool to enrich billionaires at the expense of small creators.
I used to think that when I died I wanted all of my creative works to be willed into the public domain for the good of everyone. Now I'm not so sure.
As such, I will be removing my content from Tumblr in the coming weeks. As I write this I'm importing the content of theimpossibleyear.tumblr.com to a self hosted server and theimpossibleyear.com is redirecting there. Once I am sure it's been successfully migrated I'll remove all of the content from Tumblr for good.
I know relocated content can still be scraped by AI bots against my will. But I'm considering ways of disabling crawlers, making it password protected and/or parsing all of the images through Nightshade or some other tool. At the very least I’ll have made my terms clear.
I'm still figuring out what to do with this blog. It will eventually go away, but I have yet to decide what will happen with the content.
Either way, this sucks. I am so tired.
#ai#midjourney#tumblr#polaroid#open-ai#ai art#theft#matt mullenweg#automattic#subism#the impossible year
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Alrighty everyone its time for a bit of "who is this cat that zach has/ why is zee zee into a full on cat and living with a complete stanger" made by me and @stardustshimmer
Zee Zee's story/Oc Reference:https://www.tumblr.com/stardustshimmer/726426982951370752/say-hello-to-my-kitty-boy-zeezee?source=share
In short: ZeeZee is Queen Somnia's loyal servant who grew jealous over all the praise she received from her subjects, while no one gave ZeeZee any of that, and he does just about everything around the kingdom.
So in order to gain the respect of the Cloud Kingdom, he made many attempts to overthrow/kill Somnia to take her spot on the throne.
When the Queen held a royal ball in the Cloud Castle, she was giving a speech in the main hall right underneath a giant chandelier. So as she was addressing the guests, ZeeZee made the chandelier fall on top of her and made it look like a complete accident.
and now for the backstory of how did he get to dreamland: The story begins at the Cloud Castle. It's been approximately 5 hours since Queen Somnia's death, and Detective Delilah is still searching for the culprit.
Meanwhile, ZeeZee is not worried one bit. He thinks the people of the Cloud Kingdom are too stupid to find out he loosened the chandelier, especially since he did so using his powers.
A little bit of context: ZeeZee had fled the scene immediately after the chandelier came down, and no one noticed he was gone until every other Cloud Kingdom resident's name was cleared, and he was the last one left to interrogate.
Lila followed clues to ZeeZee's location and began questioning him. After a high-pressure interrogation, ZeeZee cracked and fessed up in front of everyone.
When he did, Kracko decided to banish him from the Cloud Kingdom permanently.
ZeeZee was dropped from all the way up there and landed right in the Fountain of Dreams. He emerged from it, soaking wet, So he goes from the type of anatomy he normally had, to looking like an actual cat.
He'd also lose his powers as well.
To add insult to injury, it started raining. Lightning struck him a few times. Then he went off into Dream Land to find some shelter.
How did zach find zee zee? in the rain walking back to his house. later on he would adopt t zee zee
one shot where zach picked up zee zee and brought him into his home and adopted him:https://www.tumblr.com/stardustshimmer/729772247667113984/zack-whats-the-matter-scared-he-said-in-a
and by the way did you know that zee zee has a baby sister called kiki as well:https://www.tumblr.com/stardustshimmer/733522057857548288/zeezee-meeting-his-new-baby-sister-kiki
zeezee loves to be carried around in zachs backpack: https://www.tumblr.com/stardustshimmer/738351505563926528/zack-uses-a-backpack-to-carry-zee-zee-around-just?source=share
zee zee eat catfood: https://www.tumblr.com/stardustshimmer/730720567972462592/zeezee-eat-cat-food
Zee Zee trivia:
He likes tuna. And milk. Typical cat foods.
He normally wears his wizard robe and hat, but since it's all wet and dirty at the moment, he likes warm sweaters. Bonus if it's a turtleneck.
Normally all he used to do in his spare time is fly around the castle tending to his duties, but now he'll have to find some new hobbies. Try some things out with him, see what he likes, here is a little hint: 🎹
Since ZeeZee was a bit miserable about having lost his wizard powers, Zach would try to cheer him up by making “potions” with him (which would just be like, bath bombs and glitter in water or something).
Ok so he likes fruit in the morning. Specifically raspberries
He’s mostly an introvert. Considering how during his time in the Cloud Castle, he’d spend the majority of the day in his room/cat tower
Quirks?
He goes “mrrp” a lot. Usually when he’s embarrassed or frustrated
He (now) prefers family.
Now that he has Zack in his life, he realized just how much he needed a family member in his life.
He’s an indoor cat. He pretty much hates it outside, except during nighttime. He gazes at the stars during the night.
He used to do studies on fairies since Queen Ripple came into Queen Somnia’s life
He likes thanksgiving. He eats a lot during that time.
ZeeZee doesn’t really care about his birthday and has never gotten a bday party. Somnia used to bake a small (pet friendly) cake for him, tho.
He’s just embarrassed about the whole chandelier incident and every murder attempt on the Queen before that.
Fast rides make him sick. The only amusement park ride he can go on is the ferris wheel.
He jumps at the smallest things, so horror movies are NOT for him.
Me and Stardust thinks if Zack were to take him to an amusement park, he’d take ZeeZee on, let’s say the spinning teacup ride.
…you can guess how that would end up.
Also yeah, he’d despise haunted mansions
and i think thats it for now, me and stardust have so much more to share in the near furture. so stay tuned
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What if one day Evelyn suddenly somehow goes back in time before her marriage (with all her memories) so now she already knows Levi's intentions so what would she do? Please do a scenario.
Levi x Evelyn AU -> I Remember You
(A/N: So this is an interesting idea, I've never really done anything involving time travel so I'm going to just wing it as to the how and why of everything. Headcanons would have been easier but I'll give it a shot regardless, thank you for the request! Also I'm totally not writing this while Baldur's Gate 3 downloads lmao)
WARNINGS: implied noncon/dubcon, yandere themes/behaviours, misogyny, domestic violence, forced marriage, forced pregnancy, etc.
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Evelyn didn't know how it had happened, all she knew is that one minute she was in Levi's bed, being subjected to his need to dominate her and crush her spirit. The next she was in his office, both their ring fingers bare and he even looked a different, not as worn with stress and crazed obsession. Wedding photos didn't adorn his desk and most suspiciously she wasn't forced to cockwarm him as usual when she came to visit him at work.
She wanted to get answers, figure out what had so drastically changed, but fear of spoiling his mood, causing him to lash out kept her quiet.
"Have you finished your work?" His voice breaks the silence.
When she takes too long to respond she braces herself for the oncoming attack, but it never comes. Instead he shakes his head as if mildly disappointed.
"Then I suggest you stop daydreaming."
Clearing her thoughts from the odd exchange she focuses on the slip in front of her. It was dated one year ago, before they were married. And it wasn't old, it was new clearly, and she had a vague memory of this moment with Levi. They always used to work together back when she was still a Scout, he always said it was a way to keep her in line, how naive she had been.
Been. What if, what if now she could stop Levi from getting his way, in reality, he had never forced her to marry him initially, that had all been a trick she fell for. She could be free of him and never settle for his aggression ever again. It was all about playing her cards right, by now, Levi had never made the proposition to Erwin, so he wouldn't be on Levi's side yet. No one would defend him because nothing had happened yet, she would have supporters that he hadn't turned against her yet.
What would it take though? Escape? Where would she go? Her savings were small compared to Levi's, she would run out of money long before he did when it came to finding her. Although that in and of itself was another question, would Levi come and find her? When did his obsession really start? Best not to take any chances, for all she knew, his obsession started when they were kids and he had been festering on it for years, but that would be unlikely.
"I'm going to stretch my legs." She tried to keep her tone calm and not suspicious.
He just waves her off, never bothering to look up. To him, this was only his future wife, one he couldn't boss around just yet.
Once she's out of his office she hurries outside, taking in the sunlight and all of the faces she had been cut out from. Everyone was still here, those who had turned their back on her, those who disappeared, and those Levi made disappear. If she was smart, these people wouldn't be dead. Although it wasn't half bad that future Petra was dead in her opinion, no matter when it was she was always a thorn in her side. But if it meant sparing herself and even just one person of the cruelty Levi had put her through it was worth it.
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Evelyn kept her head low, trying not to let Levi know what she was up to. As of right now, her plan was to carry on like nothing had changed until Erwin and Levi cornered her and made up that shitty lie that she was in danger and needed to wed the Captain. First she'd refuse, see if it was really that easy, but she didn't think so, so the backup plan was to escape that night. Flee as far as she could, maybe even to Marley.
Right on schedule she was approached by the Commander, the traitor. Everything was exactly how it had been back then, the fear mongering, the whispers of her soon demise. Subtly urging from Levi that he was a little more than nonchalant about what she chose. Now it was obvious, his devious grin, and the way he eyed her hungrily.
"I appreciate it Levi, Commander, but, I'll take my chances."
This stunned them both, clearly not expecting this response. Usually she was very pliable to whatever anyone else wanted.
"What do you mean? It's for your own good!" Levi was angry, before she'd hate to see him this way, trying her best to calm him. Now she enjoyed seeing him throw a tantrum.
"I can handle myself. Even if you're right and everything's going to hell I want to know I defended myself and relied on nobody but me to see myself through. I could never put anyone in danger."
His teeth were clenched. "I really don't mind."
"I insist. I don't think I'm ready for even a fake marriage."
Erwin held up a hand to stop Levi. "As your Commander I can order you to comply for your own safety."
"And if I disobey your order?"
"Court marshal and firing squad."
Evelyn nods and stands. "But I'm not an enlisted soldier, as an officer I can resign."
Erwin seems confused. "Well yes-"
"Then I'll have my resignation on your desk first thing in the morning." She turns and leaves, relishing Levi's fuming face. She knew he wouldn't go down without a fight, which is why she was enacting Plan B tonight.
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The darkness surrounded her, tree branches scratching at her clothes and threatening to trip her up. She was running for her life, trying to escape that horrible man and the fate they were lining up for her. She had one chance, one chance to change what happened. This is what propelled her forward, freedom was on the horizon. Her heart thudding in her ears as the walls of Shiganshina came closer, ODM gear would make quick work of scaling them, and then she would be free. It was so loud she didn't hear the whirring of cords coming closer until it was too late.
Hands grabbed her, covering her mouth and making her unable to scream. The body she was held against was one she knew all to well, his smell filling her nostrils.
"You didn't think you escaped me did you my love?" His voice was breathless from excitement and the chase. "I don't know what about you has changed, but I'll be sure to break that rebellious spirit." The more she struggled the tighter his grip became. "Come along dear."
"Let's go home."
#break me slowly#levi x oc#attack on titan#levi ackerman#levi aot#levi x reader#shingeki no kyojin#yandere levi#yandere levi ackerman#yandere levi x reader
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