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bratzforchris · 2 days

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Inked Daisies (Chapter 1)

A series

Summary: For the past year, you've been running the flower shop that's next door to your friend, Matt's, tattoo studio. But what happens when the feelings start to get more than friendly?

Pairing: Tattoo artist!Matt x floristfem!reader

Warnings: There will be individual warnings for each chapter. No warnings in this one!

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: Soooo...my first series on here ♡ In this universe, Matt has a nose ring and his usual tattoos, plus some other tats and piercings that'll be added later hehe<3 Let me know how you like it!! 💐💐

“Nope,” Matt shook his head as you stepped inside the shop, looking at you from behind the counter. “You can’t bring those in here.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, setting the small Mason jar of flowers down on the glass case that held a variety of glittering body jewelry. “They’re flowers, Matt. Not a bomb.”

“Don’t care, didn’t ask. Plus, they ruin the look.” Matt kept his eyes trained on whatever he was looking at on his laptop, but you could see a small smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“You’re so grumpy,” You tsked, maneuvering yourself behind the counter and peering over his shoulder. “Whatcha doin’?”

Matt sighed, running his hands through his hair and spinning himself around in his chair to look at you. “This dude keeps changing his fucking design even though he’s put his deposit down. And guess what? His appointment’s tomorrow,” he sighed again, brushing a hand across his nose. “Fuck, I forgot that’s a new piercing.”

Your face dropped into a pout at Matt’s stress. You had known him since freshman year when you had become friends with Chris and the other two triplets by extension. Although you didn’t see all the inner workings of Matt’s mind, you knew that he struggled with anxiety and stress. A particular instance at Six Flags during your sophomore year had told you that much.

“Let’s see the design,” You offered, filling up a paper cup from the water jug behind the counter. “I’m sure there’s something we can do to make him happy.”

“What? Give him the tattoo for free and then change once it’s already on his body?” Matt raised a brow at you as you poured the water into the jar of flowers.

“You’re such a pessimist, Matt,” You shook your head, placing the now-full jar of flowers next to his computer. “If it helps take away the awful, vile sight of big, scary flowers, these are the outcasts. Their stems were too short and a few of them are missing some petals. They’re the rejects.”

Owning a florist’s shop had been your dream ever since you were a little girl. You had been captivated by flowers since the day your granny had taken you into her expertly tended garden, leading you around and telling you all the meanings for the different plants. In a way, it almost felt like you were carrying on her legacy by owning such a dainty, girly shop that sold her favorite things. Maybe she wouldn’t have liked the fact that your shop was directly across the street from an all black tattoo and piercing parlor that just so happened to be owned by your best friend’s brother, but she definitely would’ve liked the aesthetic of your business.

You drew yourself out of your thoughts, pulling up the chair of another piercer who had left earlier in the day. “Let’s see what we’re working with.”

Matt moved a few things around on his laptop, opening up Procreate and clicking onto a design. In your opinion, it was absolutely gorgeous. The tall oak tree in the drawing had large branches that extended outwards, but instead of leaves, the tree held clocks that were all stuck at midnight. Underneath the actual drawing was the carefully lettered sentence ‘Until Time Stops’ in swirly letters that matched the chains of the clocks.

“That’s beautiful,” You said softly, your eyes entranced by the drawing. “It’s…wow, it’s gorgeous.”

“I think so too.” Matt mumbled, clearly more lost in his artistic mind than here with you.

This reminded you of the nights during high school sleepovers. Chris and Nick would pass out early, leaving just you and Matt. You both struggled with insomnia, so some nights you would both stay up, pouring over the brunette’s sketchbook together while Matt explained each and every drawing in great detail to you. You had noticed that, similar to you, Matt had an eye for the natural world. You’d never brought this notice up to him of course, but you often thought about it during the early morning hours when you were doing opening duties in the shop while waiting for your employees to arrive.

“But he doesn’t like it, so it’s a scrap,” Matt shrugged, closing out the application and leaning back in his chair, eyes closed. “God, I’m fucking tired.”

You sighed sympathetically, hopping out of the chair. “I understand. I guess I’d want something I really like if it’s going on my body permanently. Doesn’t mean it isn’t annoying, though.” You acknowledged, bustling around behind the counter as you stacked papers up, put pens back in their cups, and locked the jewelry case.

“I get that you like flowers and animals and shit, but you don’t have to do that. You’re not Cinderella. I’ll do it later.” he sighed.

“Later? Matt, it’s almost nine,” the only reason you had come into the shop in the first place was because you had finished cleaning and locking your own store rather early and had seen Matt sitting behind the counter. “You need to go home and eat and sleep. A) You gotta be hungry and B) No offense, but I wouldn’t want someone who’s sleep deprived to be giving me a tattoo or piercing.” You joked, bumping his shoulder lightly.

As if on cue, Matt’s stomach growled audibly, making him fidget with embarrassment, but not so much that he couldn’t open one blue eye to glare at you. “Says you. How many times have you gotten Astrids and Hydrangeas mixed up because you stayed up all night reading.” the brunette chuckled to himself, remembering the time that you had employed the triplets’ help to create a brand new bouquet less than an hour before a certain bridezilla’s wedding.

“Now that’s not fair and you know it.” You huffed.

“Is too.”

“Is not.”

“Is too.” Matt insisted, smirking triumphantly once he saw you sigh in defeat.

“You’re annoying,” You grumbled. “I like Chris much better.”

“Sure ya do, sweetheart.” Matt didn’t even look in your direction as he closed his laptop, shoving it into his black tote bag.

Something about the way Matt said such a simple sentence had you fighting your blush, grabbing your own bag that you had sat down earlier. You tried to ignore the funny feeling in your stomach, fiddling with your phone while Matt finished the tasks you hadn’t completed. “You think Nick and Chris would kill me if I brought pizza over instead of their elaborate orders from five different restaurants?” You asked, eager to move your mind away from the implication of his words.

“You’re coming over?” Matt turned to look at you, an expression you couldn’t read on his face.

“Nick invited me. You know we don’t see each other as much as we did when we were kids. I miss our sleepovers.” You smiled softly.

Matt’s eyes crinkled with nostalgia. “Yeah, I remember that. They were kind of nice, I guess.”

“You guess? Wow, way to treat us like chumps. You got a girlfriend you’d rather be hanging out with or something?”

“No.” it was a single word, yet the boy’s tone changed from one of fondness to something much deeper and almost angrier.

“I’m sorry, I…” You trailed off, studying him as he picked up his bag, trying not to focus on the tattoos that snaked down his muscular arms and connected to the chunky, silver rings on his fingers. “I didn’t mean to hit a sore subject.” Even though you two were close, you knew Matt didn’t tell you everything about his life.

“Let’s just go, okay? I’m sure the ruffians are hungry.” he grumbled, walking towards the door.

You scrambled after your friend, each of his broad steps equaling four of yours. “They’re not so bad.”

“That’s because you don’t live with them,” Once you were both outside, Matt turned and locked the door to the shop behind him. “Trust me, when Chris burps in your face for the fiftieth time that day, it gets less funny and more annoying. Do you have a ride?”

“...no…” You admitted.

“Can no one in my life get their license?” Matt sighed, not even waiting for you as he started the trek to his car.

“Actually,” You corrected him, practically jogging to keep up. “I have my license. I’m just saving for a car.”

You believed city transportation was a perfectly valid form for getting from point A to point B, but as you slid into the passenger seat of Matt’s car, you couldn’t help but to admit that having your own personal vehicle was a much nicer alternative. Matt pulled out of the parking space without speaking, but you could feel his warm presence beside you in the car. As he migrated the car through the narrow city streets, you found yourself wondering what your life would be like if this is how every single day went for you. You knew Matt would drive you home in the evenings if you asked, but a part of you wanted to keep the rare occasion of rides together just that. Rare, special, something seemingly so mundane that it was almost silly you were even thinking about this.

Time spent alone with Matt was rare, despite working across the street from each other. Between being a triplet and your friendship with Chris, the one-on-one actions were few and far between. But for some reason, on nights like tonight, when you thought about how he interacted with you, you wished that you could make them happen over and over and over again.

tags ♡: @jake-and-johnnies-slut @chrissfavwh3re @suyqa @chrissturnswife @mbsbaby @herxysc-blog @lovingchrissposts @caffeinatedscorpio @spencereidenthusiast @crazychrisl0v3r @sturnioloxlver @whicked-hazlatwhore @blahbel668 @sturncakez @junnniiieee07 @biggesthat3r @sturniolowhore @patscorner @julesgrl @0strawberrysorbet0 @strombolilovr @matt444nixi @remussbitch @devthepoet1221 @mattyblover07 @loisnotaa @mollyquinnxoxo @graysturns @pepsicolapussy333 @ginswife @emmagirouard @athaliahxoxo @bitchydragonparadise @ilydeaky @soggyslugg169 @m00n-0n-paws @books0fever @stingerayyy2 @sunsetsturniolos @mimi-luvzyu @raysmayhem-72 @faygo-frog @oobleoob @billsslutt @aemrsy

note ♡: if you'd like to be added to my taglist, click here <3

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lychniis · 2 days

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⚘— VIGOUR ( AS HE CALLS IT ).

i. SYNOPSIS : when was the last time he let passion win this fight? ( zhongli x reader ) // evenfall event - prompt xiii ( ❛ honey you're familiar, like my mirror years ago. ❜ ) + daisy, orchid.

ii. WARNING(S) : mdni, smut. half dragon zhongli, rader is gn with female parts, fluffy smut tbh and zhongli is kind of smitten shhhh. this post contains 18+ content. minors do not interact.

# masterlist

There’s a vivid, beautiful thing about youth that Zhongli’s memories test against. He’s grown too old to, within the tragedies that spun forth like silk and poison and the bite of a blade. It is the embers spread forth round the sides of the pot, and there’s hardly much to see of it.

Maybe there was something there. People could suspect, people could nurse those thoughts then move on from and let it be forgotten.

( That part of him has long died. It’s the rambunctious child, the testy spunk, the feel and the rush of iron and adrenaline coursing through, timed with his hammering heartbeat — and the earth would splinter. )

Then came you. You, you, you and his footsteps are lead on to follow yours. He’s a fool in that regard with the softness of love clogging up the reason in his mind and stoking the brazen parts of him that fumble and leave him flushed. But Zhongli lives for an experience and this — this he adores. The quiet walks, the lingering spice of your food, the smell of mint and herbs in your hair.

And this,

Zhongli spreads his hand over your back. His breath is labored. His eyes on you. Indulgence, the sweet coat of peaches on his tongue. He tests his fingertips over the softness of your stomach. You are warm, real, heartbeat and all.

He dips his head down. Whispers into your ear.

“Will you indulge me?”

Your gaze draws to him. A simple “Anything for you.” He wonders, briefly, if he could have met your spirit sooner at a long passed ‘sometime’. But loving you as Zhongli, is perhaps the kindest way to love you. Because Zhongli was tender in ways he once was not. Zhongli would not tear your flesh apart with his teeth and take and take.

( Time has tempered, softened, eroded. )

“Sit up, love.”

You hum. “I’m almost afraid to comply now. Can I change my mind?”

He offers a patient nod. Your lips quirk, a little adoring, a little passionate. “Just kidding, just kidding…”. Your legs fit snugly round his lap. He marvels for a moment, rubbing down sensitive skin, kissing your cheek. “Indulge yourself. Mr. Zhongli.”

Zhongli’s gaze meets yours. His laugh rumbles forth between the kisses he steals forth and his belt coming undone with a faint clink. “Beautiful. Mine, my love, all mine…” he murmurs and for a brief moment, he pulls away just to stare, shifting you enough to drag his cock against your slick cunt. A stray whimper is drawn out. The burn in his gut demands more.

“Arms around me.”

“What are you planning?” you press up closer to him, cradling his cheek with a lazy smile. “Zhongli, love, don’t leave me in the dark.”

He grinds you over his cock again. Your back arches just a little. And maybe in a moment of brattiness your hands wander and stroke at the small of his back. Maybe you press down onto him a little too hard. Zhongli holds an unspoken credence to it. He likes your rebellion. He likes the cheek. He likes the liveliness.

It means many things.

It means pinning you back down, prodding your entrance with a teasing sluggishness. “Behave, love.” he chides.

“Not with the pace you’re moving at.”

You could barely articulate that sentence. You’re flushed and it’s adorable, how you let your lips draw back and your eyes wrinkle at the corners. “Are you calling me slow, love?” he deliberates.

“I’m calling you old.”

He leans in close. “Keep talking.” he goads, breaching through, sliding the tip into you. Your lips part. You whine, nails digging into his back. “Go on.”

You suck a breath in. Zhongli drags his cock into your walls, in and out, bit by bit till you’re snug round his length. Then he thrusts, hard, through the shaky, blubbering moans and his mind fogs over with the tight squeeze you offer and the heat of your body.

It slips something primal. It’s a rush. Zhongli watches the way you writhe below him and he has a taste of the spirited youthfulness again.

His hand slides over your eyes. He feels human skin shed and a halfway draconian vessel filter through the cracks. He vaguely registers his tail wind round your calf, his talons tear into the mattress. Your shaky fingers pry at the offending part over your eyes. “L-let me.” you beg. “Let me s-see.”

He lets you, a knuckle stroking your clit. Your touch is gentle against his horns and your sight is unfocused. “Zhongli.” you mumble. “Zhongli.”

He whispers your name back. He keeps going, plunging into you, taking in the twitch of your limbs, your squirming, the mess you leave between your legs. You’re holding on, half of the lewd noises you let out muffled against his shoulder. He hears a plea, a soft praise and it keeps fuelling and testing that beast. His tempo picks up. You’re warm. Wet. His.

Then you’re clutching round his cock and that cry you let loose is a delightful ring. You go lax in his arms so easily. Zhongli decides to be merciful for a moment and stops.

“I love you.” It's tiring but sincere. Zhongli hums, nosing at your neck. Then slowly, his hips shift and he thrusts. You’re left giggling a little, eyes slipping shut with the fatigue and the flushed heat settling fast. You mumble a last few words. “Keep going.”

( He is not done, Not yet ).

❪⠀🎬⠀❫ AINE SPEAKS ;;

i am working through this event but this time i'm a common star rail mob trying to kill my party but aventurine's in it.

anyway, this evenfall post was once again requested by @floraldresvi!!this is a little more x oc coded vivi BUT thank you because i love zhongli hehehehehehehe i can;t complain.

AINE | 2024. do no plagiarize, repost or rework this piece.

#EVENFALL ; valentines 2024 #&&. my writing !!#zhongli x reader #zhongli x you #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #x reader #angst #n.sfw #genshin zhongli #zhongli

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innaillus · 2 days

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Drawing Ryōmen Sukuna

Development notes

This post has been in the making since last year, before the manga has reached its current arc. My aim was to respond to comments that pointed out that my version of that time didn't look like the one in the anime. I calculate everything I do and the way I do it. My current goal is to share my thoughts on the development of my take on him - simply because I'm a nerd when it comes to anatomy and I love figuring things out. It involves a lot of thinking, questioning, analysis, dissecting information and building theories. So I totally understand if it's not anyone's cup of tea.

MANGA SPOILER WARNING

The very beginning

I used to have a serious case of lack of self-confidence. My earliest art of Sukuna dates back to 2021, but it always felt like my skills are not worthy of this particular character. I never shared my art. I was also struggling to find my artistic voice. I was obsessed with the idea of semi-realism, but even if I managed to pull it off after weeks of stylisation practices, I didn't like the results.

Due to personal reasons, I stopped trying to draw him for a long time.

The development of "my" version

It was an entirely conscious decision to draw him differently.

The top reasons for the change was that I didn't want to sexualise him in his host, Yuuji, who is a minor. Back then I thought he inflicted the deformation on himself (extra limbs, eyes, etc), for the sake of efficiency, and I was curious what he looked like before that - or what he would look like in a civilised environment.

During the process, I considered a number of factors:

the beauty standard of the other JJK men - I wanted him to fit the lineup - his original appearance made him stand out quite much

in a setting where he adheres to the rules of society, more or less, I believe his MBTI personality type (ENTJ) would dictate a lot of his choices when it comes to appearance, at least to a certain extent. I thought he would choose to have an appearance that fits the beauty standards of the era

I kept his tattoos because it's a very distinguishing feature of him, but I also exercise freedom in the way I draw them, to make them as stylish as possible

Reincarnation

I used to believe once he reincarnates, his proportions would be closer to that of a "normal" human, even if he has some extra limbs. However, his size and features are above and beyond of what we are used to, and even the story emphasises their malformed appearance. So a a whole new era of Sukuna started in my art. I chose my favourite manga panels of him and mix-and-matched the most attractive features into a figure that I consider on the fine edge of monstrosity and unconventional handsomeness.

Even when I draw him with a regular number of limbs, I keep his usual mass and proportions. I dubbed this form "true gains" form.

I also realised that some of the tattoos Yuuji's body displayed was a product of the partial reincarnation stage, like we see it on Tsumiki's forehead.

NOTE: Did anyone notice that Sukuna is getting progressively more and more human/handsome in the manga? When he took over Megumi's body, I also noticed that as the story progressed, he started to look older and more mature. I'm curious of it was a conscious decision.

Twin dilemma and speculations

According to the Japanese wikipedia page, the mythical figure Sukuna could have been a conjoined twin. Despite my extensive digging in the matter, I was shocked by the recent lore drop.

My question: what does Sukuna look like in a universe where he did not absorb his twin in the womb during development?

It hasn't been confirmed, but I find it very possible now that he was born with his extra limbs, eyes and mouth, as well as the deformed, wide features. (...as opposed to my first theory about him altering his own body for the sake of efficiency)

This, however, would mean that in a universe where both him and his brother are born healthily, he would look different. There is the obvious lack of extra arms, eyes and mouth - but I believe he would also be closer to the JJK beauty standard of men, as far as proportions go (eg. more narrow face, anime-esque nose, larger eyes).

At first I was hesitant to accept this idea, as I'm very attached to the 4-arm hulk / "true gains" form now, but then I realised: this would mean that "my"version of him actually has logically explainable place in at least an alternate universe.

Thank you if you got this far.

I may edit this post later. Let's see where the story takes us.

#ryomen sukuna #jjk art #jujutsu kaisen

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skyenish · 23 hours

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Twst mlp AU | thoughts behind the designs

I made Leona an earth pony with a thicker build. Hes a square with sharp angles! Hes one of the first drawings I made for this ‘series’ so its a bit lackluster, but I wanted him to be nice and hairy. I gave him a more lion-like tail, and some jewelry from his culture. His ears are nicked and he has long, slightly tangled hair. He also has a lot of hair around his neck becuase he’s a lion! I gave him a color scheme vaguely resembling a lion as well. Also nice and hairy legs, i love to draw those on horses. His cutie mark is three claw marks over clouds of dust. There are multiple different meanings to this cutie mark.

Vil covers up his cutie mark for personal reasons, but its a spotlight shining behidn some curtains. I tried to give him a more ‘feminine’ look while also keeping sharper angles. I love his color scheme, and i made him a unicorn because I thought it fit perfectly. I considered making him an earth pony to really show how he works hard for everything and doesn’t take shortcuts, but in the end unicorn won. I might change it later though! I had to give him some elegant white spots too, because aesthetically it just clicked in my head. He has a purple bow and has his unique hair accessory in his bun. I gave him longer eyelashes, and instead of making his hair a blonde-purple gradient I made some locks purple.

Jamil!!! He’s one of my favorite designs. I know the obvious choice seems to make him a unicorn, but HEAR ME OUT ON PEGASUS JAMIL! It adds a lot of symbolism and extra layers I think, it’s very tragic. Plus, he looks pretty with wings. I gave him darker and greyer colors to portray his darker and jaded nature, and it’s a nice contrast to Kalim’s design. I tried to vaguely design him off of Arabian horses but it didn’t come through very well. Did you know that MLP has a race of horses called ‘Saddle Arabians’? I didnt and i think its absolutely hilarious. Jamil is also supposed to have bags attached to the thing around his waist, but I’m too lazy to draw them.. His cutie mark is an eye with the world as its pupil, and a snake curling behind it. I put a lot of thought into his cutie mark and I’m really happy with what I came up with! To me it has 4 different meanings! I kinda want to redraw Jamil because he looks so small compared to the others!

Kalim is a unicorn for even more delicious angst. His whole family is unicorns. He’d much rather be a pegasus, but at least he has the magic carpet! Jamil thinks it’s bullshit that Kalim can use magic AND can fly. I made Kalim’s colors more vibrant and yellow and lively. He wears lots of jewlery, has tattoos and is my favorite design of these four! He also took me the longest. His cutiemark is a sun or a coin with gems on it, and it has wings. This too has multiple meanings. I think in the Scalding Sands culture the snake jewelry was something the sorcerer of the sands, an alicorn, wore around his horn. Maybe the original was a magical artifact? Well, Kalim, and other people from the scalding sands, wear fakes to honor the sorcerer. Anyways, I made Kalim slightly hairier then Jamil to show how he’s softer and wilder.

———

I’d love to do more with this AU, because my mind is already full with so many cool ideas! Thanks for reading my rambles and have a nice day :)

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satyricplotter · 10 hours

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pairing: dick grayson x reader

word count: 3.2k (i think?)

warnings: rape mention (as per dick's canon)

notes: i keep thinking of applying one of my favourite manga/manhwa tropes with dick specifically, because it works so well, but i don't particularly care to put in the work of setting up that it'd take for it to land as well as it could. maybe later. as it is, i'll give you the quick rundown because i spent two days writing it lol

something ugly about you has made you undeserving of romance. you have spent your entire life puzzling out what it is and how to fix it. nothing much is special about you: the matter’s far from isolation, or becoming any particular sort of pariah. perhaps that'd be easier to explain. no. people leave you alone, your friends cherish you, your family loves you. it is not that you have not known affection, but that you have and so when you crash against the wall that horrible first time, it hurts all the more.

nothing changes after that. there is always a limit to where your interest can reach, unnamed but palpable. a line you cannot cross. it seems to you as if the entire world has reached a silent consensus during a meeting to which your attendance was not required and your input unnecessary. why would it be? this is not about you. after all, your ability to love has not become impaired. you like people. you’ve fallen in love. but who has ever loved you back?

this one facet of life has been closed off to you entirely, and you’ve been chased away from all attempts to form a romantic bond with unspoken threats of shame and implications of disgust. (a bit much of a display just for the offense of being little old you. you come to regard the matter so as you grow older and start curating some self-respect. it still stings as badly as scrubbing your skin raw under hot water, but not all the loathing is directed inward nowadays.)

regardless, you’ve learnt that you are undesirable, and nothing you can say or do will change that. you must be content with the other shapes that love can take. nothing that you want matters whatsoever.

you meet dick grayson one summer evening under exceedingly normal circumstances. you do not know about heroes or rogues, no batmans or nightwings. the person that crosses the threshold is none other than dick grayson, the handsome young man. suspicion does not cross anybody’s mind, and if it does, it comes only a good couple of thoughts after his darling smile and shapely thighs.

obviously you like him immediately. what’s not to like? he’s gorgeous.

you react to him with the tense wariness of someone hardened by years of useless crushes. trying to avoid him. trying to be normal when you invariably cannot. it’s fine. it’ll be fine.

you still crush on him.

it’s inevitable, at this point. he’s too pretty, too smart, too kind not to draw you in. every interaction comes a rush of exhilarating fear. at times, you manage to subdue yourself into normalcy, hang out with him with as much naturalness as you can muster. but then he does something particularly attractive and you’re back in square one, shoulders drawn together and so short with him he probably gets emotional whiplash. it’s as exhausting for you as it must be for him, and he still reacts to it with grace. it doesn’t help.

through your concerted efforts to be normal, or at least appear as much, you and dick become friends. not great friends, mind you, but good enough that you start hanging out on your own without any of your mutual friends present. and you only spend about three hours total pondering the meaning behind the phrasing of his texts. that’s gotta be some form of progress, right?

he sits at a little table away from the window, and beams when you arrive. coffee’s on him and conversation’s on you. you’ve got more in common than you first thought, but you go back and forth between imagining it must be fate and squashing down delusion, telling yourself you’re blowing it out of proportion.

at one point in time, a beautiful, sultry-looking woman approaches the table.

this sucks, you think, glancing away from dick’s bland mask of politeness. all of it is hopeless and it still sucks.

you and dick tense immediately, like you both know what’s coming. sure as ever, the woman smiles and asks for his number. you look away politely, sip at your drink. the proximity makes it useless to pretend you’re not eavesdropping (though it can hardly be called that when she came to your table), but you take care not to make any faces that’d give away the little storm brewing in your stomach.

you think about running off to the bathroom, get as far as shifting on your seat when dick shoots you a troubled look. the woman’s been at it for a little more than is appropriate. a minute or so more of insistence and she’ll be stretching the boundaries of her own dignity too far. you look away with pressed lips and move your hands under the table.

your alarm beeps.

“oh, shit, dude,” you gasp, hoping to land somewhere in the ballpark of realism. “It’s almost seven. we’ve got to go, or else we’re gonna miss the movie.”

dick gives the woman his apologies and swiftly runs out of the café with you hot on his heels. on the way to the movie theatre, you wanna ask the million questions running through your head—why’d he reject her? didn’t he like her? did he not think she was pretty? who is pretty for him? what’s his taste in partners? is he seeing someone?—but you know it’s a futile endeavor. what will you even get out of that? it’s clear dick didn’t enjoy the interaction either. you make small talk about something else, trying to draw his attention away from whatever conflicted feelings he’s moored in right now. just because you like him doesn’t mean you can’t be a good friend to him.

it’s a short walk. soon enough, he’s all smiles again. in the line for the popcorn stand, another two girls come up to him, this time much younger than you two. he’s nicer with them than he was before, but he rejects them all unequivocally.

“doesn’t it annoy you?” you can’t help but ask. when dick raises an elegant eyebrow, you panic and backpedal so hard you might as well have driven a truck through a storefront.

“a bit,” dick says, ignoring your rambling. you shut your mouth firmly closed when he gives you a sidelong glance, and continues, so very casually, “it’s worse when it comes from a friend rather than a stranger. so many people just try to befriend me because they’re looking for a relationship, or they want access to my body. it’s… tiring. i’m sure you can relate.”

“ah,” you say. your tongue feels numb, but you’re burning up under the weight of his gaze. “no. I don’t really get harassed like that or, um, asked out.”

“huh.” dick blinks. “really?”

“yeah,” you force out. blessedly, the attendant calls your attention. you jostle dick forward. “look, it’s our turn.”

dick orders popcorn. you get a large slushy that you’re not gonna finish. you make him pay. he complies with no question. inside the theatre, you spend all two hours and sixteen minutes of the showing in absolute silence. it is not so strange to be fixated on the movie, but you’re usually a little more chatty. under normal circumstances, you’d eagerly take the opportunity to lean closer to him, whisper something about the main character’s penchant for gummies and its relation to the degradation of the American working class. he’d glance at you and thoughtfully smile, and you’d catch a whiff of his cologne when you straightened. for the rest of the movie, the twinkle of his eye as he forwent the film for your conversation would be all you’d think about.

such is not the case now.

you can tell when you’ve been summarily dismissed. in fact, you appreciate when people are subtle about their rejections. it’s always all the more humiliating when they feel the need to bring it out into the open, like your affections have been so blatant they must be commented on, debated.

the rest of the evening is spent convincing yourself that this is good, that this means it’ll be better for yourself going forward. you’ll be less distracted, if anything. dick’s attempts to discuss the movie with you afterwards fall flat, as the only thing you really want is to get home and stare at your ceiling.

when you’ve reached your apartment door, and are turning to enter after a hurried goodbye, dick calls your name.

“look,” he says, running a hand through his hair unsurely. “I don’t usually do this.”

oh, no. dread fills you up. he’s breaking up with you and you’re not even dating.

you swallow. “dick—”

“I like you a lot,” he interrupts. your teeth clang the way you shut up so fast. in fact, you feel a little dizzy. he continues before you can even process that first sentence. “I think you and I could be really good friends, and I’d love if we could continue seeing each other to, you know, hang out and talk. I do truly appreciate your insight. is that okay?”

you blink fast some three or four times. it must be comical, the face you’re making, because the corner of dick’s lips pulls upward despite him trying to keep a serious air.

“I thought we were already friends…?” you say, at a loss for anything else to say.

“yes!” he beams. “we are.”

“okay,” you respond, perplexed. this is so far out of left field. “um. text me when you’re home?”

“yeah.” he grins. gorgeous grin, to be sure, but why? “for sure.”

“cool.” you give him an awkward thumbs up and scurry inside.

it is… baffling. you spend all of that night wide awake and pondering. dick must’ve misconstrued something, or either you missed a crucial step in your relationship. otherwise the end to that evening makes absolutely no sense. the only thing you can conjure up is that dick must reject a lot of people who, like he said, try to befriend him only to get with him or worse, only to fuck, and it’s not very likely most of those people stay in his life once it is clear he won’t budge on the matter. the fact that you didn’t immediately turn your back on him must’ve come to him as a pleasant surprise.

it’s sad. like, really fucking sad, actually.

that very sadness—and the memory of his handsome, bright grin—turns your outlook inside out. why do you like dick? clearly he’s got the looks and the personality, but do you really know him? what do you know of him? you make a list of things you’ve learned about him in the short time of knowing him. it’s not long.

you come to the conclusion, mortifyingly so, that you don’t, in fact, like dick grayson. that, if anything, the only thing you like is the idea of the boyfriend he could be, which is not the boyfriend that he is (you know nothing about that). it’s the social acumen inherent in bagging such a hottie, and the sparkling sexual attraction bound around it, that really prompt your crushing. it’s not dick as a person. frankly, you think, a little hysterically, could be anyone, really. didn’t even have to be dick. he was just there, the handsomest person in the room. an apt target for the voracious hunger of your heart. you’d mooned and mooned over him for ages and it turns out it wasn’t even about him.

god, you’re such an asshole.

in penance, you endeavor to actually get to know dick without the embarrassment of a crush between you. and it does, in fact, help. dick’s eager to get to know you too, now that you’ve both formally acknowledged you’re friends (such a weird practice, fresh out of kindergarten behavior, but, as you soon find out, dick is weird about plenty and not entirely well-adjusted as an adult). you go on outings together, attend one another’s events, text sporadically throughout the day. you learn which video games dick likes, you tell him which movies are your favorites. it’s fun and light and uncomplicated now that you’ve freed yourself from the constraints of romantic expectation.

not everything’s good. dick’s got bad habits, which grate on you. is it so difficult to put the stupid toilet seat down? can he not learn to chop vegetables in chunks smaller than an elephant’s baby teeth? can he, for the love of god, stop yelling at the tv during horror films? he’s got some serious character flaws, too. you find about those a lot more slowly, but they don’t cause too much trouble.

you fight one or two times due to dick suddenly abandoning you in the middle of an outing with no regard for your safety, and his tendency to get pissy instead of saying whatever’s upsetting him upfront when he knows, you’ve warned him that you’re stupidly thoughtless about your actions at times. all those are things you wouldn’t have come to experience if you hadn’t given the man a chance to actually be a friend. it’s kind of heartening, actually, to have come so far.

sometimes your crush rears up its head in the middle of nowhere. it’s kind of hopeless by now, but you can’t help the fact that dick’s attractive. neither can he, anyway. you just watch him sometimes, the way the sun hits his eyes, lashes sweeping over his cheeks. it makes you go tongue-tied and silly, but the moment always passes. it has to pass. you struggle against it, recall every time dick has upset you or insulted you in one way or the other. some days it’s easy as buttering toast, others you can barely think around the searing heat of your desire. those are bad days for all involved.

one evening, when you’ve grown close enough you’ve begun to think about dick grayson as maybe, possibly, only-if-he-says-so-too your closest friend, he tells you about catalina.

he does it over the phone line, during your almost-nightly calls. over the months, you’ve taken up the practice of teasing him about handsome people he clearly finds attractive in a desperate bid to divert attention and train yourself for when you have to do it for real. this is not one of such cases, and as soon as you realize this, you sober up immediately.

he says it so simply. talks about it like it’s just a hazard of life. there’s a tight hardness at the edge of his voice, but other than that, he speaks like it’s normal Tuesday for him.

not so much for you.

“is it okay if I come over?” you request over the line.

for a moment, the only thing you hear is dick breathe. “yeah,” he croaks, and you’re bolting out the room immediately.

you don’t know how to react to this other than with a shaky sort of desperation. it’s been years since it happened. there’s nothing you can do about it now. there’s something big he’s leaving out, which you notice but don’t point out. a big lump forms on your throat as he speaks. dick tells you when you arrive that the woman is behind bars for an unrelated crime and the only way you stop yourself from wishing ill on her out loud is the fact he looks so politely disjointed, you know your fury will only startle him.

and you feel it so frightfully, the fury.

you love dick, you realize. beyond the fancies and the underlying attraction, you love dick as a person, as a friend. he’s one of yours now.

the evening morphs into a casual sleepover. you don’t interrogate him, and he seems torn between wanting to say more and grateful you’re not prying. you keep yourself open to the possibility, but also try to comfort him as best you can. you make dinner. you put on a movie. you talk and joke and quietly watch. he invites you on the bed with him because his couch is a nightmare to sleep in and his guest room is “unavailable”, whatever that means. you don’t even think about it, just follow.

lying together under the sheets with the lights off, the rest of your feelings bubble up to the surface.

you ask before you clasp his hands between yours and look into his shiny eyes in the darkness. you try to tell him, how this single evening and all those that came before turned over your loyalty to him. how he can come to you for anything he ever wants or needs—your ear, your care, your protection. how much you appreciate his trust and how much you wish you could make anything, everything better for him. how much he deserves it.

“I’ll never leave you now,” you vow with fierce conviction, searching his eyes for any signs of doubt. any other time you would’ve questioned this statement with the sheer weight of infinite possibilities, but not now. tonight, truth is absolute and in your hand. “they will never take me from you. I will always be on your side, by your side. i’m serious, grayson. you’re not getting rid of me.”

a glimpse of a watery smile is the only thing you see before dick throws his arms around you and buries his face in your neck. “couldn’t dream of it,” he whispers into your hair.

you hug him back as tightly as he is, murmuring platitudes and running your fingers through his hair. he falls asleep like that, in the cradle of your arms. he feels secure enough to do so, and you feel both proud and nauseous about it considering the secret you keep.

that he’s told you this at all, that he’s trusted you with such a thing—you know how big it is. you know you can never betray him.

you consider your inherent monstrosity, that little unspeakable thing that bars your from that special kind of love. you understand, firmly, that any desire you feel will never be received eagerly and joyfully. not by him or anyone else. in silent fury, you vow to die before you be like her, to bestow upon this man your grotesque wanting with no regard for his own desire, for the integrity of his being.

that night, you press a kiss to dick grayson’s hair and let him go forever.

the next morning, dick watches as you leave. you turn back one last time to wave at him from the parking lot, a bright smile and tussled hair you didn’t bother to brush. you wear out the clothes he lent you to sleep, so harried last night in your haste to come over that you’d simply forgotten to pack pajamas. he suspects you hadn’t planned to stay the night at all, but he’d been damned if he’d let you go yesterday.

you’re pretty. he’s always thought so, but this morning, you’re prettier than ever. it’s the radiance of your heart shining through.

I will always be by your side, you’d said last night. you’d meant it completely, then. dick had been dazed, overcome. he couldn’t take the brightness of your eyes, the surety of your affection. he’d buried his head in your neck and fallen asleep breathing in the smell of your shampoo. in the morning, he’d woken up with your fingers carding through his hair and the gentle warmth of your body against his.

that was nice. he wonders what he has to do to make it happen again.

#dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x you #dc imagine #nightwing x reader #nightwing x you #not that the night life features as anything other than a mention #anyway for those in the know.... this is the chundan 'i like you because you don't have expectations of me'/'im never gonna like ycy' scene #except set up a little differently given there's no isekai happening here #satplotdb

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nightgoodomens · 2 days

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Sorry to be yet another video analyst at your metaphorical door but I do this sort of thing for a living and in my experience certain takeaways are largely universal:

1) MS and DT are focused intensity on each other

2) GT gestures (and probably raises her voice enough to get his attention to snap to her) with a "look at me" "over here" I am talking to you" gesture

3) GT is addressing DT personally, and it has nothing to do with the woman trying to sneak by behind them. This is obvious because MS remains focused on DT, intently. If she had been telling them, "watch out" or "budge in a bit", she would have used more of wave-over motion ("move this way") and both men would have swung their attention to GT and then the woman behind them to apologize/gauge space.

4) AL offers a placating touch to MS's shoulder, which he swings his shoulder back to disengage. Caresses/pats to the shoulder are generally placating or to offer comfort. Again this has nothing to do with the woman trying to get by-- AL would have touched MS's elbow to get his attention and lead him forward and out of the way. Elbows are where people touch to offer guidance. The way MS pulls his shoulder back and steps away from AL (and into DT) speaks of annoyance at the situation, and annoyance of being placated, and by stepping closer to DT (physically touching sides, even) MS draws a line: as far as he's concerned not siding with him is siding with GT.

My take away is this: it's likely they had agreed on plans beforehand, but someone is trying to change them last minute. It's likely AL is the least involved or affected by a schedule change as she seems the most unbothered. Probably more concerned with not drawing attention to their group rather than what is actually being said (I say this because AL is both awkward around celebrities and hyper aware of them around her). Now, based on other things that we've seen from them lately I could speculate further, but, I'll keep it at this: AL doesn't have a horse in this race. Whatever the outcome of that night, it wasn't something she couldn't handle. I want to say MS and GT are basically fighting over DT, but I won't (or have I? lol). If this were random people I would say, again, that it's most likely the two men made plans and the shorter woman is trying to make the taller man break those plans. It could be anything else, of course, the video is very short and we can't hear the conversation...but I think this scenario is the most likely.

Thank you for this anon! I agree with you.

Not adding my stuff because I want people to focus on what you wrote.

#NightGoodOmens talks PR

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itsabouttimex2 · 2 days

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Plot twist: the moment d!reader is set free from both of the circles at the end of the journey, they dissapear into the night, never to be seen again...or not.

I'm sorry i just, as much as i love yanderes, i want to see them suffer. At least a bit.

Ps. You're an amazing writer and i really enjoy your fics. Also, you really helped in getting my friend into yandere, so thank you for that🙂

Taken Aboard:

Running Away

(I’m super glad that you enjoy my fics! And I’m glad your friends enjoys them, too! Yandere is a really fun trope to play with!)

So, in the case that you do pull a runner at the end of this long and arduous journey, Y/N… your biggest enemy is now yourself.

Because, as hard as you might have tried to fight it, you have been civilized. You have grown accustomed to society. You have started to care. This journey has changed and bettered you, as it has all your companions.

You are no longer a mere demon tending to monsters great and mighty, no more a child planting seeds and spreading spores.

You can’t ever go back to being the wild little creature you once were.

If you’ve ever read Gilgamesh, I’d say Enkidu is a good comparison for your development. After he’s been ‘civilized’ by Shamhat, Enkidu can no longer return to the home he knows and loves, the animals who once accepted him now fleeing on sight.

Now, if you leave before the journey’s end…

You run, devastated and distraught that so much of yourself is gone and lost, never to be reclaimed. The forest may not be the home you know, but some part of it is still familiar.

You purge the hunters and loggers who have taken up residence within the Emerald Grove, violently spilling their nourishing blood across the hungry soil, pitch their flesh into the mouths of ravenous beasts.

It doesn’t make you feel better- you know that at least some of these men and women were trying to feed themselves, their children.

But at least the forest is newly quiet, contented by a fresh meal, leaving you in peace to mourn.

As for hoping to ‘never being seen again’…

Sun Wukong’s Golden Vision has a little something to say about that.

Within hours he’s stalking back to the Emerald Grove in a huff, hauling his way up the tallest tree he can find and unhappily making his way over to you.

The Great Sage snatches you off the bark and tosses you over his shoulder, clambering down the tree as you kick and scream. You demand to be released and removed from the group, biting and pounding your fists agains his invulnerable back.

“Being naughty today, bud? Here I was, thinking you had finally gotten past this ‘running back home’ phase.”

“I am not a baby,” you scream, digging your teeth into the base of his spine with all your demonic might. “PUT ME DOWN!”

You manage to draw just a few drops of blood, not that it phases the simian. He doesn’t even seem to notice.

“You’re making things harder for all of us, you know that? And you keep setting us back with all the running away nonsense. But I had Master call a certain someone up to maybe settle this for us all, bud.”

Against your angry protests and endless assault does the Great Sage drag you back to camp, switching to hold you in his arms instead of over his back.

Immediately do your screams of anger turn to pained wails, the sound of a holy sutra hitting your eyes. The blessed bands around your wrists tighten, scraping the skin they compress to rawness.

And before you stands not only the holy monk who tricked you into wearing these golden hoops, but the goddess who gave them to him.

“Sun Wukong, please place the child down,” she lightly instructs, her tone even and polite. “Might I speak to them for a moment?”

The Handsome Monkey King obeys, nudging your towards the goddess after he releases his grip on you.

Guanyin comes to you slowly, kneeling to take your face into her soft and gentle hands.

And you bite her.

“You- you call yourself a goddess,” you scream, fangs wet with her divine ichor. “Of mercy and compassion! But all you do is hand out tools of torture and punishment! I wanted to stay in my forest! I wanted to stay with my friends! A hard shove, nearly knocking her over. “And you helped Sanzang take me away! You gave him these awful bands and he pretended they were gifts to get me to put them on! But they weren’t! And you let him! And now he uses them to hurt me! I hate you! I hate him! I hate all of you!”

Finally you collapse, sobbing openly into your hands.

Tang Sanzang watches in horror as heavenly blood feeds the ground, causing new and gorgeous growth to break from the ground, flowers blooming in massive clusters.

Wukong seethes that you could be so disrespectful to the one and only god he actually cares for, the only one he finds to be tolerable and kind.

Everyone else just recoils in both fear and hurt, your last words ringing painfully in the ears.

But Guanyin approaches once more, kneeling to level herself with you. There is no retribution or anger in her touch, placing a light kiss onto your forehead.

“You’re right, aren’t you? This journey has not been easy, nor has it been kind- and for you especially, perhaps it has been cruel. And I too, have been unkind to dabble in your affairs. Will you allow me to ease the burdens of your travel?”

From a silk pouch does she procure a mirror, pushing it into your shaking hands.

“My child, I give to you this heavenly mirror, which has been forged from blessed steel and holy sand melted to glass by dragonfire. To look upon it will show you your beloved forest, and all those you have left behind.”

(Now, this is super important- Y/N’s involvement in the journey is incredibly unfair. The others come because they seek personal growth or redemption, but Y/N?

They had to come. They were tricked into thinking those golden tightening bands were gifts and eagerly asked Sanzang to help put them on, jumping up and down in excitement at receiving something so pretty. The only reason they agreed to wear these ‘generously’ gifted bands was because they thought it was an honest gift.

So there’s already a sense of betrayal about the whole thing, that their first gift from anyone was actually just a trap to pull them along on a lengthy and dangerous journey.

Then, where the others were either entirely willing (Sanzang) or had to redeem themselves for crimes or mistakes (Wukong), Y/N was forced to come along with their worst crimes being: fighting off invaders and killing poachers. And all for that, they are ripped from home and forced to leave behind everything they’ve ever known and loved.

And Guanyin does three things here:

1. Acknowledges your anger/sorrow.

2. Validates your feelings without hesitation.

3. Actively works to soothe them.

With the mirror in hand, you can look upon the Emerald Grove and see your old animal friends, know that they’re safe even without you, and put your fears to rest.

It’s not perfect.

But it’s a good start to get you to actually care about these pilgrims, given that you don’t spend every night in flurry of nightmares, thinking fitfully of your beloved forest.

#Platonic Yandere #Yandere Lego Monkie Kid #Yandere LMK #Yandere Tang Sanzang #Yandere Sun Wukong #Guanyin #Taken Aboard #Journeyfam

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perfectlovevn · 23 hours

Text

Perfect Love Devlog #26

Phew man, coming in hot!

I’ve finished Emil’s extra story, with the exception of sfx, music and a couple of mini CGs I need to draw, all of it is coded in properly! I added some new stuff for him, so I might try to do this with each extra story to make it a bit more interesting. I still have to think about what sfx to use for him. Something that sounds soothing or bright, if that makes any sense.

Next I’ll be working on Iya and Desmond’s extra story. Desmond only really has two base sprites so I’ll probably draw one more for him just for this route. Iya is kind of tough to design again since her appearance changes rather drastically from her original counterpart to now. I think I got it down though, but I need to make some minor tweaks. Their story is the most comedic and wholesome story out of all the extra stories so this one will be fun to do.

I’m starting to write down nicknames for Easter eggs. Thank you all for your suggestions! I will now proceed to steal them for my own. You can continue to keep on suggesting them if you wish.

I’m thinking after this one I’ll work on the Seph and Valli extra story. I have to figure out some new sprites for the both of them. And how to design some of the monster shapes.

#perfectlovevn #male yandere #yandere #yandere vn #yandere boy #perfectlove dev logs

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anincompletelist · 2 days

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fic pride friday! :D

thank you @kiwiana-writes for the tag! this is by far my favorite tag game, not only to get to see everyone else's bits that they're most proud of but also to check in with my own writing versus the LAST time I did this challenge and what's changed. thank you thank you! it's always a pleasure to read your words <3

Rules: Post your favourite line or passage from as many of your published works as you’d like. Let yourself feel proud of your creations! Tag as many people as you post snippets, so your fellow fic friends can be proud, too.

Tags: I CANNOT STRESS HOW !OPEN TAG! THIS IS BUT ALSO: @wordsofhoneydew @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @msmarvelouswinchester @nocoastposts

@firenati0n @daisymae-12 @read-and-write- @magicandarchery

@affectionatelyrs @happiness-of-the-pursuit @inexplicablymine @heysweetheart-writes

@littlemisskittentoes @sparklepocalypse @getmehighonmagic @firstsprinces

@priincebutt @cricketnationrise @eusuntgratie @bigassbowlingballhead

@whimsymanaged @anchoredarchangel @captainjunglegym @thinkof-england

from How To Get Blood Stains Out of Your Linen (And Other Ways To Fall in Love):

Henry doesn’t wonder. He mourns. He grieves for things that haven’t even happened yet, for the happiness that he assumes he might’ve had if he’d been brave enough to reach out and grab it with his shaking, stained hands.

from somehow I'd get by:

They start with dinner. Watching Alex cook for him has always been somewhat of a spiritual experience but tonight, perched on the countertop with Alex between his legs, feeding him a taste of each and every ingredient, like he’s hardwired to want Henry to be a part of his routines and his hobbies and his life, it feels like even more. The first few buttons of Henry’s shirt have been undone, the heat from the stove beside them making his skin pleasantly warm. Alex’s own sleeves have been rolled up to his forearms, his tie long gone somewhere by the front door, both of their shoes with it. Henry tucks a socked foot around his calf and draws him in even closer, stealing a kiss that tastes like Saffron and the wine from the Spanish market downtown, the wooden spoon forgotten between them. It’s curious how the day just seems to tumble on, the eve ning elongated as if the minutes have doubled themselves. Somehow it still isn’t enough time with Alex, and Henry finds himself surprised once more at how he physically misses him, even when he’s close enough to reach out and touch. He’s oddly aware of the space between his rib cage, the gaps and vessels surrounding the marrow, an emptiness he’d never cared to notice before. Behind them though, his heart is wonderfully full. As if he knows the feeling, Alex never strays too far from him. Not when they finish up the food and move to the dining table to eat, not when he tugs Henry so close he’s practically on his lap, feeding him by hand and then with his own set of cutlery, sharing the same plate. The vacancies fill up with the food, wine, and Alex’s sweet words, piece by piece, a lifetime of inadequacy replaced with love instead.

from Something Borrowed, Something Blue:

(I had to try to find a non-spoilery one jsdhkjhfk)

“It’s the southern charm,” Alex argues, still a bit in shock. “It’s irresistible.” “It’s you,” Henry corrects him softly. “And I wouldn’t trade out a single thing about you. Your honesty or your energy or your words.” “But your words are important. You always think through everything you say before you say it. And mine just— just come out like David’s vomit.” Henry laughs quietly beside him. “And sometimes I can tell that I should stop but I just keep going.” “That doesn’t make your words any less important,” Henry says. “You know how to speak your mind. There’s a lot of people that don’t. It doesn’t make you too much or annoying. If anything, it means that you’re brave.” Alex snorts lightly. “If I’m brave, then what are you?” He glances sideways at Henry. “Untouchable?” “Terrified.” The breath Alex had been halfway through taking halts in his lungs. Henry’s eyes are wide and so blue underneath the moonlight, a shade Alex hasn’t seen them yet before. He rushes to take it all in, committing the look to memory— Henry here, in his space, trying to speak a language Alex understands.

from treading water in the deep, just waiting for the tides to meet:

Alex writes about forgiveness a lot, especially on the days when he mourns for the once clean, normal mark he used to have. Sometimes he thinks about how simple things could have been. The fairytale story that he’d wanted so badly as a kid, had prayed for beside his bed at night and wished for with every shooting star that passed overhead. But with every stroke of the pencil on the page his eyes fall to the skin just above where he’s holding it, the intricate pattern of the scarring tha t Alex knows he could draw accurately even in his sleep. He’s memorized it with his fingertips, with his eyes, with his lips. It’s a part of his person, so it’s a part of him, too. And Alex has never been particularly good at self love, always moving too quickly and trying to make his family and friends proud, thoughtlessly making sacrifices at his own expense if it meant that some of the burden was taken off of someone else. By the same token, he’s always given love freely. It comes as no surprise to him when he first says it, whispered against the gap in the line, right next to the jagged edge of where one end of the line has broken through his skin. He writes it in the notebooks, thinks it in his head: I love you. Two years passes and with every day, Alex realizes he loves himself a little more too.

from there were pages turned with the bridges burned (everything you lose is a step you take):

Back in his room, he locks the door behind him and walks over to his desk, everything mostly left untouched from before he’d gone to the hospital. He hasn’t been able to go through it yet, to see the evidence that he was healthy and capable of excelling at things that, at least right now, he couldn’t dream of doing. Not at the same level, anyway. Blinking harshly, he takes his lower lip into his mouth and finds the list of resolutions he’d pinned to his corkboard above it, not one of them marked off yet. There’s no way he could have predicted what this year would have brought. Gently, he takes the thumbtacks out of their spots at the corners and folds up the paper, slipping it into a drawer. Then he retrieves the packet of skittles and pins them up in its place. One day at a time, Alex thinks.

from I want you to have me like I've never been had, you get all my wild parts:

Gently, Henry presses forward into him again, lets himself appreciate the way it feels when he’s not busy chasing his own release. Alex sighs sweetly and widens his legs a bit, his fingers still achingly soft, dancing across Henry’s shoulder blade. It really, really shouldn’t be this easy. Not the dynamic, but— Alex. Henry stares at him, most likely cross-eyed for how close he is but uncaring at the moment, tracing a fingertip through Alex’s drying curls, down the slope of his nose, his top lip, the smile line carved into his cheek. Marvels at the way Alex lets him. He wants to bathe in it. Wants to keep it locked up just as much as he wants to show it off. Wants to care for it—care for him, wants to round up anyone who’s ever had the pleasure of seeing Alex this way and rip the memory from their greedy, ungrateful, undeserving hands. Keep it for himself instead, where it’s beginning to feel like it belongs.

from avalanche:

“Love is patient, love is kind,” Alex murmurs, the scripture replaying clearly in his head— el amor es paciente, es bondadoso. His grandmother's words, then his father’s, now his own, translating them from the way he learned them so that Henry can understand. He presses his lips to Henry’s jaw, solidifies them there. “It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.” El amor no es envidioso ni presumido ni orgulloso. He slides a hand over the little scar on Henry’s shoulder, touches it tenderly with his fingertips, only a fraction of the pain he’s endured. “It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.” Henry’s tears wet his cheek when he emphasizes them here; no se comporta con rudeza, no es egoísta, no se enoja fácilmente, no guarda rencor. “Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.” El amor no se deleita en la maldad, sino que se regocija con la verdad. “It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.” Todo lo disculpa, todo lo cree, todo lo espera, todo lo soporta. Reaching down to fill in the gaps between Henry’s fingers with his own, Alex pulls back enough to look at him properly. Henry’s always kind of taken his breath away, but Alex can see the shift happening in real time— how every word, each passing minute that he spends here, finally where he wants to be, is recharging him. And how much of a marvel is it that where he wants to be is with Alex? Henry leaving had felt like an ending at first. The conclusion of a year long fever dream in which all of his own fears and desires had been finally recognized and tested to their limits. No matter what Henry had chosen to do in the end, he’d changed Alex for the better. The proof was all there, written in fine print for the world to see. Alex would have been okay, eventually, just knowing that. But now he can see that it hadn’t been an ending at all. All of the cracks in Henry’s shiny, practiced, impenetrable exterior are crumbling; shattered first with Henry’s valiant initial swing, the excess gently peeled away with Alex’s fingertips. It’s visible now, everywhere that he’d left his mark on Henry. Everywhere that he’d poured just as much into him as Henry had into Alex. He’s always been capable. But Alex knows, just as much as Henry hopefully does now, that sometimes it’s difficult to get past the litany of weaknesses until someone finally comes along and recognizes them for strengths instead. “El amor jamás se extingue,” he whispers against Henry’s knuckles, his own eyes blurry. “I forgave you a long time ago, amor.”

from it's so hard to get to heaven with my head in my hands:

Henry leans forward to set it aside before he seals himself further into George’s side, an arm propped behind his back as he strokes his knuckles over Alex’s cheek. George turns away to allow them a moment to themselves, but it doesn’t rid him of the intimacy of it all from his position right in the center of it, especially as Alex moves closer, his own fingers dropping to move some of the hair from George’s forehead where it’d fallen haphazardly into his eyes. It takes George even longer to find his voice again, nothing but a rasp when he summons the courage to insert himself into their familiar back and forth. “Why are you doing this?” Henry halts whatever he’d been about to say, dropping his gaze down to George in between them. “We take care of each other,” he says. “Hen has a lot of days like this too,” Alex adds from his other side, his thumb stroking soothingly over George’s brow. “We’re glad you came, George.” His mother would have a fit if she could see him now, taking comfort he isn’t owed from men he shouldn’t want it from. But Henry wipes his tears with the back of his hand and Alex begins singing the dulcet tune of a Spanish lullaby and George feels, perhaps for the first time in his life, like he belongs.

#my fic #tag games

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eveningrainstorm · 1 day

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my take on teenage raz and lili!

some design notes under the cut:

They're intended to be about 16 here! I didn't go for anything too drastic in terms of changes -- these are largely just what I'd consider natural evolutions of their canon designs

For Raz, my main focus besides just making him look older was to add a bit more resemblance to the other Aquatos in his design, since his relationship with them wouldn't be strained like it is during canon

Raz is shown with very straight hair in canon, but since most of his family's hair is more wavy or curly I tend to imagine he styles it that way on purpose as part of his Sasha Nein cosplay or whatever. He wouldn't still feel the need to do that at this point, though, so for this design I wanted to make it more curly, similar to Augustus or Frazie, while still similar to his canon style. This turned out to be incredibly difficult and I'm still not entirely happy with where I landed, but it's good enough

I didn't think he would still wear the helmet but I didn't want to discard it entirely, so the goggles were a compromise. I meant to give them some visible scratches and wear and tear since they're presumably the same goggles he's been wearing since he was 10, but I forgot. rip

Obviously the most notable change to Raz's outfit is the scarf -- I wanted something that would tie him visually to the other Aquatos while still fitting with his general look. I imagine they gave it to him as a gift, sort of an acknowledgement that even if he doesn't perform with them as an acrobat, doing his Psychonaut work is his own way of being an Aquato

Raz's outfit here is honestly very similar to his PN2 outfit. This is because in my eyes "long coat and turtleneck" is Peak Character Design and cannot be improved on. (Hence why I may not be the best person to redesign Raz.) He has an actual coat rather than just an oversized blazer this time though, so that's an improvement. With the turtleneck I was was vaguely intending for it to be color-wise something of a middle ground between the Sasha-style green striped turtleneck and the Aquato blue/green and white stripes, but it ended up basically just being the PN1 stripes with the PN2 color. which, you know, that works

I went back and forth on what their heights should be -- I thought it would be kind of funny if Raz ended up short and Lili ended up taller than him, but then I decided to just make them more in line with their families, with Raz being tall and lanky and Lili being average verging on short. Except then I accidentally made Lili tall anyway because I was only vaguely considering her height relative to Raz. I guess Lili's probably taller than her dad now? good for her ig

Most of their facial features are just slight variations of how they look in canon -- slightly smaller eyes and so on. the only real specific change is that Lili has a more defined nose now, similar in shape to her father's

Lili's outfit here is more different from either of her canon outfits than Raz's is, but there's still not much that really requires a ton of explanation. The goal was to make her look vaguely cool and fashionable, although as I am neither of those things I cannot guarantee I was successful

I tried a couple different hairstyles for Lili, and I'm still not entirely set on this one -- Originally what I settled on was to give her two braids, which I did like, but I kept doing sketches of her where I just drew the top part of the hair and was like "ngl this kind of works on its own" and so I ended up going with the short hair. I also briefly tried an asymmetrical haircut but I couldn't get it to look right. I think this one suits her though

Lili's tattoo (on her left wrist) was a later addition to the design, and even in the later stages of drawing this I wasn't sure whether to keep it. I like it conceptually I just haven't figured out a consistent design for it yet, only that it has to be of plants

god these notes got way longer than I meant them to be I am so sorry. Uh basically I'm still figuring out the details of these designs but for now here's Raz and Lili, they're teenagers now, thanks for reading

#still not completely set on these designs but i think i've mostly gotten an idea of what i want from them #i'll probably revisit them in the future. i'm happy with these for now tho #razputin aquato #lili zanotto #psychonauts #psychonauts 2 #my art

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eyecan02 · 5 hours

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Alastor Analysis

Alastor's background regarding romance and sexuality goes all the way back to early drawings that depict Alastor crushing on Kay-cee.

The story then moves on from a crush on Kay-cee to a full on relationship with Mimzy.

It makes me wonder how Viv jumped from Alastor in a relationship to Alastor being ace. It feels like quite a wide leap. With Viv being the creator, I have nothing but respect for her but I feel like Alastor can still love/possibly do sexual acts while still keeping in character and looking out for #1.

I feel like while Alastor was alive, he leaned toward graysexual and this is why. I don't believe this man died a virgin. As we all know Alastor is from the 20s. He's in his late 30s/40s, meaning that it would've been uncommon for a man his age to still be unwed/unattached to someone. I'm sure he went on blind dates set up by his mom, and even occasionally slept with women in order to keep up appearances. He most likely did this in order to make his mother happy since any mother would've liked to have seen their child happily married.

And after Alastor became an overlord, the occasional sex probably didn't stop there, because Alastor is all about about keeping up appearances and deals. He definitely comes off as someone who would use sex as a means to and end. If a woman wanted to trade their soul in exchange for Alastor's protection and one night with him, I feel like Alastor wouldn't turn her down. It would be a decision that would end up leading to an increase in power for him. He just likely wouldn't kiss during the act.

Now finally onto Alastor's relationship with Charlie. From the beginning, we've all known that Alastor has his own agenda and reasons for involving himself with Charlie. He's a master of manipulation, knowing love is a powerful motivator (the way he manipulates Vaggie by making her feel bad about Charlie and the commercial) and also digging into Charlie's daddy issues.

It was clear that Alastor tried to play the boyfriend card to piss off Luci. It was only after Charlie introduced Vaggie that Alastor changed tactics and switched to the daddy card.

This means that Alastor would be willing to play any role to get what he wants from Charlie, whether the endgame is obtaining her soul or becoming her royal advisor or whatever. If Vaggie had been introduced in the pilot as a mere crush, Alastor would've caught onto the daddy issues quick and would've angled for a romantic role in Charlie's life since love and sex would be easy things for Alastor to manipulate (if my theory is right about him using sex as a means to an end).

I feel like this kind of materializes during the pilot with the way Alastor keeps pushing Vaggie out of the way, and how Vaggie seems jealous whenever Alastor impresses Charlie.

We don't know if this weird competition for Charlie's attention will persist between them as the series goes on considering that behavior was absent in season one. What's interesting is that the jealousy aspect switched from Vaggie to Alastor. The second Luci hugged Charlie, we're shown Alastor looking maliciously at Luci with his eye twitching in irritation.

What do we know about Alastor so far? He's an attention whore . He's used to being one of the strongest demon lords (at least from the pride ring) so suddenly not having attention, particularly Charlie's attention is making him act nuttier than usual.

Usually, it's hard for someone to be jealous without at least having some feelings toward the one they're feeling jealousy over. "Ah, an enjoyable collective to be around. I admit that one could get accustomed." This line is for the entire Hazbin gang, but also a real sign he cares for Charlie.

He can still have his own hidden agenda while caring about Charlie and being attracted to her. And he definitely is attracted to her. Calls her "charming and adorable". The constant touching.

Some might argue that that's just a part of Alastor's power play/dominance but he already knows that those types of moves don't intimidate Charlie. In fact, she never seems bothered at all when Alastor tries physically to get closer to her.

Also, the animators placing Alastor in Charlie's bed with both of them on a HEART pillow is insane. They know what they were doing. We see the way Alastor's hands possessively spider crawl up Charlie's shoulders and the way he grips her face.

And by the looks of it, Alastor seems to lust after Charlie's soul almost as much as his freedom. Viv has said that Alastor can't love anyone because he loves himself too much. Yet, she has also described Charlie as "Alastor's mirror".

The fact that they even made Charlie's color palette similar to Alastor's. Her hot pink jacket is almost a reddish color and they both wear bow ties. If Charlie is a reflection of Alastor then wouldn't that mean he does technically love himself by loving Charlie? He could be Charliesexual.

Not saying Viv will change her mind. She already chose her endgame. BUT what if Prime and Viv compromise and we get to have one sided Charlastor where Alastor admits to someone or even directly confesses his romantic love to Charlie herself (without actually trying to steal her from Vaggie)?

#charlastor #charlie x alastor #musicalshipping #radiobelle

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twitchinkittenart · 1 day

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Astarion is my favorite character for many reasons, but one is that I relate so heavily with his story of abuse, resilience and survival. I’ve never felt more seen then when I played his story line. To me, Astarion shows that change is possible with the right support.

He has become my comfort character and because of him I’ve started drawing again and I’ve started drawing men. I may not be the best artist, and I may not be as amazing as other artists I see but my style is just as unique. Maybe it’s more cartoony, but there’s nothing wrong with that.

There are things about this piece that could stand to be changed, and I could probably put more work into the shading, but for now I’m done. My husband keeps telling me if I ever start to feel stressed about a piece to just move onto the next one.

Anyway, I hope you like it and thank you to those who support my artwork. It really means a lot to me to see my art being liked and reblogged. It makes me feel a little less insecure, so again thank you.

#sorry long post #astarion #astarion ancunin #bg3 astarion #slightly depressing #mental health #astarion fanart #i love astarion #thank you #thankyouforyoursupport #stop comparing #astarion baldurs gate #baldurs gate 3

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leafryoworks · 2 days

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Ribbonhands shipping , let's go !

Able belongs to @sm-baby .

Headcanons :

Able likes literature . Gangle likes romance genres . So library dates are a thing .

In the beginning of the relationship they would sit side by side , commenting here and there , you know , quality time , one on one .

But later on in the relationship as they started to sleep on the same bed , they have a routine where they are reading the same book together before they sleep . Able would have Gangle on his lap and have his cards slightly pressing on the back of her face mask while they read together .

It became a habit since it always makes Gangle a bit ticklish and he really likes her laugh . The most precious melody he has been blessed with in his existence.

They definitely (mostly Able) would take turns reading to each other on bed ! Sometimes Gangle would be the big spoon where she mostly wraps herself on Able and read it to him which her soft voice , almost putting the ai to sleep if possible .

She has the voice of a gentle mother .

When Gangle is tired from the adventures then Able would be the one reading to her while having one hand to hold the book with the other one caressing her face to soothe her from her aches .

They both have soothing and gentle voices ! But Able has a bit of tone of sharpness like his cards while Gangle is soft and wavy like her ribbons .

Nobody understands their conversations when they were discussing about the story they are both reading !

"Who's this 'Callie' , brother ? What's wrong with his marriage ?"

And then Able would be like

"Oh , it's this book I'm reading with dear , Gangle ! But you wouldn't enjoy it much like we do , I would know ."

It's not silly enough for Caine's taste .

They would both gigle quietly when they see the others confusion when they are talking about the plot .

In the beginning of the relationship , they would try to keep it a secret , hush , hush thing but it was obvious .

Gangle's fangirling would feel more personal then usual and Able would always hover much closer to her nowadays .

They would write love letters , definitely !

Able would be so fancy with his caliagraphy pen and the beginning of the letters would be my dearest , Gangle .

Gangle's love letters would also include drawings inside the envelope .

Able personally keeps them in a file and would look at them every now and then and would notice the improvement as the time goes by . He would try to draw them together too sometimes .

Able would write poems for Gangle , just the classic romantic kind of thing .

Showtime is the awkward dorky couple while ribbonhands are the cheesy dorker lovers in my vision , change my mind .

This has been sitting on my drafts for a month or two ?

Anyways if this was platonic then this two would be reading buddies .

#the amazing digital circus #tadc #tadc gangle #tadc able #the amazing digital circus gangle #the amazing digital circus able #able x gangle #gangle x able #ribbonhands #ribbonhands shipping #gangle #able #fanfiction #?#I just wanted to post this because I feel guilty for keeping it in my drafts for a long time

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bellysoupset · 2 days

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Hi Soup! Hoping you can spill your secrets about how you write your characters fighting with each other and making it both realistic and still loving? I'm always so scared about writing arguments even though I know they are a natural and healthy part of a relationship. For some reason I hate admitting my characters have flaws, but I know it makes them less interesting to always be so nice to each other. You have such a knack for balancing their personalities and the reasons they get upset with each other and then their apologies later.

Hi Lis!! Its so nice answering your asks off anon 😝

Alright so I've been thinking on how to better answer this, since I was literally writing a conflict when you sent it.

I think my tips to writing arguments/conflict are these:

Start small: anything can be a source of conflict, if you're inflexible enough. You don't need to give your characters these huge flaws, you can literally write fights out of one character thinking taking the main avenue is the best way to avoid traffic, while the other think they should do a shortcut and then when they get stuck they're both frustrated. None of these things make them evil or bad, it just gives them different perspectives and that's more than enough to start a conflict.

Everyone has flaws and everyone has bad behavior. Even your most precious OC. Being very harsh: Luke is too much, Jonah is selfish, Wendy is vain, Bella is proud, Leo is possessive, Vince is spineless, Max is judgmental. These don't make them terrible people, in fact, most of these traits have their own happy flip side.

Luke is too much, so he loves with his whole heart and with absolute no sense of consequence. Luke is the type of guy who brings everyone together and that people want to impress and be liked by, but this also the type of person who's highly susceptible to criticism (in his case, his father's), who takes reckless decisions, who is scared of being alone and who clings to people too tightly.

I often think a character's flaw and biggest quality can be quite similar. Vince avoids conflicts and that's what makes him this huge, likable teddy bear, but also why he's the type of person who omits information (cough, the whole deal with moving to Doveport), who'll avoid making up his mind for as long as possible and hurt those around him because of it.

So I do recommend looking into your OCs and thinking what makes them tick. Is Rory stubborn? Proud? He did go fishing into the deep sea and didn't want to own up to it to his friends, what does that say to you about him? Which situations would cause his worst side to jump out? And how would those around him react to that?

It's okay if not all characters are understanding to your character's flaws.

Jonah gets tired of Luke's intense personality easily. He's too secure in himself to want to be liked by Luke, like most people tend to, and he's too sullen of a person to tolerate his high energy. This doesn't mean he hates Luke, but it does mean that if Lucas' starts to lean into the worst of his personality, the first to lash out at him will always be Jonah.

Noa and Rory have been together for years, but how long did it take for them to get used to each other? Did they learn to avoid fights or did they compromise in certain aspects and keep fighting in others?

Another thing to keep in mind is to keep your fights clean. Unless you want to have a huge argument that will take you time to navigate and have your OCs changing their behaviors and personality, avoid fighting below the belt. If Nora brought up Rory's dead sibling in a fight, this would be below the belt. It's the type of hit you can't come back from, that requires not only an apology, but a change in behavior.

When Leo tells Jonah to not use his mental health against him, it's the type of fight that's drawing an invisible line and one that if I had Jonah repeatedly crossing, I'd be making his character toxic. That would be totally OKAY, by the way, if I meant to do that! Writing toxic characters is fun! But its not the story I'm telling, so I don't have Jon doing that, I have his character changing.

Uhhhh this is already so so long, so I'll quit the rambling. But I just wanted to say, don't be scared to make certain parts of your characters ugly and annoying and gross, we all are these things, and having someone who loves us despite our flaws and maybe even because of our flaws is much deeper than pretending to be perfect.

#meta #myocs #thank you for the opportunity to ramble on this Lis!!#and I hope I'm not too wordy and this actually helped

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daresplaining · 2 hours

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I'm going to need to know your FULL opinion on the erosion of Elektra Natchios in The Red Fist Saga ASAP!

OOF. Okay, here goes...

Elektra's role in the Red Fist Saga directly follows the Woman Without Fear mini-series, so I feel like I should start there, especially since I haven't really talked about it yet on this blog. Woman Without Fear was an Elektra solo comic that came out just as Devil's Reign was ending and the creative team was gearing up for the Red Fist Saga. The mini-series's purpose was to introduce big, shocking changes to Elektra's origin story. These changes didn't end up having much to do at all with the Red Fist Saga, or with anything else really, but they did functionally strip her of her agency and autonomy and made her motivations instead revolve around Matt. Now, Elektra's origin story has changed before. Frank Miller himself gave us three versions: the original, introduced in Daredevil volume 1 #168 and #190, a slight variation in Elektra: Assassin (he changed the timeline a bit and modified the character of Elektra's father), and then an entirely new, in my opinion much less interesting version in Man Without Fear-- which was not intended to be part of the 616 continuity, though that didn't stop later writers from drawing from it, including Zdarsky, who seems to have used it as a core text to inform his characterization of Elektra in general.

I know you know Elektra's original origin story, but I'll provide the general gist for anyone who might be unfamiliar: Elektra Nachios was the daughter of a rich Greek diplomat and his wife. Her mother was gunned down by assassins while pregnant, but Elektra survived. Her father, now paranoid and fearful, put Elektra in martial arts classes from a young age, while also keeping her sheltered to protect her from harm. She ended up attending college in the US, where she met Matt Murdock, another sheltered kid with a beloved but overprotective father. They fell in love, but the magic was destroyed when Elektra and her father were taken hostage by terrorists. Matt tried to be a hero, and Elektra's father ended up getting killed. Shattered by grief, Elektra left school and traveled across the world to train with Stick, who had trained her childhood martial arts teacher before casting him out (in Elektra: Assassin, the timeline is slightly different; Elektra trained with Stick before attending Columbia, though the end result is the same). Stick saw Elektra's skill, but judged that she was too emotionally compromised to complete the training and kicked her out. Elektra devised a desperate plan to prove herself to Stick: infiltrating the Hand and taking them down from the inside. She failed tragically. Turned cynical by grief and hardship, she used the skills she had picked up from all of her training as weapons to protect herself from a harsh and unforgiving world. She carved herself a life from the tragedies she had endured. She became an assassin.

Note that I mentioned Matt's name a grand total of two times in that synopsis. It's not to say that Matt isn't important to Elektra, of course he is, but he isn't that important to her origin story. The star of this beautiful tragedy is Elektra, as she should be.

Woman Without Fear introduces something new-- at least, new to the comics (more on that in a moment). It takes the Elektra: Assassin timeline and suggests that she trained with Stick when she was still a child. (It also brings in things from the Man Without Fear Elektra origin, but I don't think I'm going to get into that here because that is a whole other rant and this post is long and tangent-y enough already). It then suggests that when Stick rejected her, she still ended up with the Hand-- but not of her own will, with the intention of destroying them. No! She was successfully recruited. And once the Hand had her in their clutches, they sent her out to go after another target: Matt Murdock. In this shiny new backstory, Elektra and Matt run into each other at college not as two kindred spirits, but because Elektra was ordered to hang out with him in order to bag him for the Hand...before, oh no!, accidentally falling in love with him. To add extra insult to this character assassination, we're told in the main series that even her behavior during her father's hostage situation was intended as a test for Matt.

What this change indicates to me is a fundamental lack of understanding of Elektra's character; or worse, a lack of respect for her complexity, or a conviction that she operates at her best as a tool to further Matt's narrative.

What is possibly most baffling to me about all of this is that this change had pretty much no bearing on the Red Fist Saga. Why was it made? What was the point? The term "MCU-ification", referring to changes being made in Marvel's comics that seem aimed at aligning them more closely with the MCU, gets thrown around a lot-- possibly too much-- but this really does seem like a case where there's no other clear explanation for the change other than to shift 616 Elektra's backstory closer to that of her live action counterpart. (In the Netflix show, Elektra recruited Matt for Stick; something I, as a huge Stick and Elektra fan, actually thought was a cool What If?/alternate universe because it presented an opportunity to explore a different take on their relationship). The new backstory is mentioned a few times in the main Daredevil series, but otherwise it seems irrelevant to the plot. And that's because Elektra herself is kind of irrelevant to the plot. She seems to have three purposes in this story: 1. To serve alongside Stick as an exposition machine and provide details about the Hand/Fist/Pinky Toe/etc.; 2. To be someone Matt loves and thinks about in moments of danger and conflict (despite the fact that they have very few moments of actual emotional connection in this story, despite getting married!), and 3. As a warm body onto which Matt can project his perpetual internal musings on good and evil ("Elektra was Bad, but she is Good now. She, like all people who have done bad things, is still worthy of God's love and is capable of rehabilitation, and look! Her decision to take on the Daredevil identity is proof that she is now Good! She has become a worthy soldier of God." Man, I wish I was exaggerating.)

Elektra's appearances in Daredevil comics have always centered around Matt to some degree, simply because it is his comic. There's miles of difference between reading a DD comic with Elektra cameos and reading an Elektra solo series. But that doesn't mean it isn't frustrating to have comics like the Blackman/Del Mundo run, or the Dark Reign solo tie-in, that delve so deeply into Elektra's rich psyche, that truly do look at her worldview in a way that is complex and morally difficult and so, so compelling, and then to have comics like this where she barely even feels present because so little effort has been made to do anything other than slap some vague morality lessons onto her and make sure she and Matt sleep together every other issue.

#Daredevil vol. 7 #Woman Without Fear (2022)#Elektra Natchios #Asks #Commentary #Adventures in Continuity #Reading “Woman Without Fear” truly felt like being punched in the face. And to what end?

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