#I really had fun rendering him this time!!

[thirstkanaphan]

There's been so much new Ateez content and even more to come, so I'm trying to get through everything and hold myself accountable by writing little mini reviews.

I've been using Tinytown Digest as a guide, so here I go from this past week's slate of programming:

Lemon Drop Martini What an unexpected and delightful surprise! I can't believe Ateez filmed a murder mystery episode for us. I had a blast. Hongjoong in that little detective outfit was really all I needed. I love OT8 content.

1ND2 - Part 2 I actually got a little misty-eyed when Hongjoong remarked that they've been filming these episodes for half their careers! The staff have always treated Ateez well and created memorable variety content for each of their last six cbs. This was no less enjoyable. Yeosang dominating the archery contest felt so good. I love how at the end they just eat the most delicious meal and chill for twenty minutes. It's just them with their natural chemistry bantering with the staff.

Lemon Drop MV Making Film Watching them switch to sexy mode is fun, especially when they're in a group. San's social battery running out halfway through the shoot and him going "Director? I'm done." Of course the highlight was those 10 seconds of Yungi doing whatever the hell that was. That's going in the canon.

Here's another favorite moment:

Also, Yeosang is the most beautiful man in the world.

Seonghwa on Lee Mujin Service I am so so happy for Seonghwa. Seeing him achieve one dream after another this year has been a joy. I have always loved his voice; it's range and versatility, and I loved the songs he selected. The DPR Ian meeting was so cute, but I really appreciated that DPR Ian had seen Seonghwa's performances and specifically commented on Seongha's ability to embody darkness. I have only ever heard of Benson Boone in passing but I loved Seonghwa and Lee Mujin's cover of Sugar Sweet. I hope to see more members on his show!

ATEEZ on Dingjo Music Tipsy Live I love drunkteez.

NOPOGY with Seonghwa, Wooyuong, Jongho It's interesting that after so many years in the industry, Ateez are still being formally introduced to established senior kpop groups like MONSTA X and NCT. It's not relevant to this show, but I was reminded that Ateez had no seniors in the industry when they started out and they remember every kind interaction they had.

It makes you realize that the closeness you see between the members, the level of intimacy that has their parents vacationing together, is as much a product of their natural affinity towards each other as it is a defense mechanism against a largely inhospitable industry. They had each other or they had no one.

Also, I will always be so amused by the fact Koeran tv will air 20 minutes of men eating with cute subtitles narrating each bite. What a world.

Hongjoong, Yunho and Mingi on 'ZIP Daesung' I have to get this out of the way: the stylists and make up artists this cb deserve a medal. They've consistently knocked it out of the park. Yunho, Mingi, and Hongjoong looked delicious in this episode.

As for the episode itself, Mingi is such a star. He's truly so magnetic and funny and charming. Even his awkward gaffes are great because he's just truly giving himself over to the spirit of the moment. He looks like he's having a great time and wants everyone else in the room to have a great time. It's funny watching him in these smaller group appearances because they usually pair him with more mild members of the team like Hongjoong, Yeosang, or Yunho (they've been pairing Seonghwa and Wooyoung for a few of these too). I think having so many high-energy people on a show together like San, Mingi, and Wooyoung would tip the scales too far. A the same time, Mingi's natural gregariousness serves to render Yunho as perhaps too stiff and polite. This is the second small-group variety show appearance I've watched him in this cb season (the other was with Seonghwa), and in both he seemed a little nervous. I was actually surprised to see how responsive he was to Mingi and their interactions were the Yunho moments I enjoyed the most. Hongjoong has the great ability to step forward or back depending on the vibe of the group. He can lead and redirect conversation and he can also let his members shine.

Daesung flinging Yunho around on his lap is the best thing to come out of cb season.

More in Part 2!

[someduckwithagun]

PHIGHTER MAGAZINE: UPDATE.

edit: it’s been two seconds and I want to redo it again the face is irking me 😞

+old one for those who are curious

[numberonetribble]

Babysitting Shenanigans Part 2: Piston gets rowdy at Hot Rod's house!

Bonus:

[nemesisfall]

obligatory pokemon au time!!

[mars-ipan]

be honest everyone. am i cooked

like my art? commission me on ko-fi!

[theokusgallery]

Omori from Basil

This is how that one goes I think

[chiropteracupola]

Bodies in my wake / Noose 'round my neck / I'm comin' back again / Better make it quick!

[raiiny-bay]

updated my simself specifically to make this

[threewaysdivided]

Hobson Heckled into Historical Haute-Couture

Continuing the Dan Jones & Dragons gala parade with Hobson, the Flower Crowns' oft-harried Halfling Warlock (played by the ever-wholesome Dan Floyd). Is he trying to massage away the realisation that letting his literally-half-brained patron choose his gala attire might have been a mistake? Is Valse giving him a headache over something else entirely? Did he use Detect Magic in a room full of powerful items and accidentally flash-bang himself? Yes.

More Flower Crowns Gala Outfits: Morenthal | Gelnek

As always, design talk under the cut:

But before that, a short story: I've been following Dan's content on Youtube for... oh jeez, that sure is almost a decade now, both on his current New Frame Plus/Playframe channels and back when he was the primary founder and narrator for EC. His old games education videos helped me get one of my earliest jobs in project work and introduced me to a bunch of media production concepts (like scope management) that would go on to inform some of my own storytelling analysis posts. It was a startling little moment of artistic ouroboros to realise I was mentally running through key points from Dan's own Pose Design 101 video as I was drawing his DnD character. Never expected things to come full-circle like that, but if you're seeing this, Dan: here's to you 🫡 If you're not Dan and haven't already, do go check out his stuff - it's all super well-produced, informative, funny and he's just an overall stand-up guy.

Now: onto the tiny little nerd and his passé party attire

This was a really fun costuming challenge, with a bunch of interesting curveballs thrown in the mix. Unlike the rest of the Flower Crowns, Hobson didn't choose his own party outfit: it was picked out by his patron after Valse kibbitzed him into giving up and letting a heroism-obsessed Fey call the shots. Dan cited Valse as having the fashion sense of Stede Bonnet-as-depicted-in-OFMD, briefing a vaguely 19th century-style outfit that had frilled sleeves and 'would have looked gaudy even when it was in fashion a century earlier'.

Actually dating his outfit was the first challenge. D&D settings are kind of an anachronistic uchronia, with classic swords-and-sorcery fantasy campaigns potentially pulling inspiration points from anywhere across the Arthurian era up to pre-war modernity. Which leads to the question: how do you make something seem dated in a setting where most everything looks vaguely ye-olde-fantasy? The other challenge was that, IRL, the 19th century (i.e Victorian era) was when menswear started taking on a lot of the shapes that would eventually become modern suit and top-'n'-tails fashion. Since Trilby was already going to be wearing classic top-'n'-tails formalwear, I decided to set Hobson's style earlier in the 1800s-1820s and pull in some 18th century Stede Bonnet flourishes to visually set them apart. This article provided some great reference images, and once I hit on the figured silk waistcoat I knew I had a potential starting point.

Colour-wise, I stuck with the burgundy-and-gold palette the Dans gave Hobson in his official gala stream art, since those looked good together and matched up with Dan J's tendency to draw Hobson wearing greens/earth-tones and Valse in reds/jewel-tones. The combination is a lot more colourful and richly saturated than is typical for this style of Victorian-adjacent clothes, which felt appropriate for Valse's gaudy tastes.

Fabric-wise, I figured a fun way to gaudy things up even further would be to lean into the silks and satins that were fashionable at the time, but make all of his outfit shimmery rather than just a single feature piece. As a bonus, silk and satin clothes tend be hot, inelastic and have horribly itchy seams if worn unlined, which felt like exactly the kind of thing Valse's all-form-no-function sensibilities would inflict upon the small, long-suffering fellow. Both these fabrics also have a habit of behaving hideously and ripping themselves apart when worn wet, which makes this a great outfit to, say, accidentally fight an Aboleth in. Poor Hobson.

Some other details, just for fun: 1. Hobson's sketch layers include a drawing of his un-removable cursed left bracer. He's pulled the frilly, puffy sleeve over it but you might spot hints of the shape and the gem if you squint. 2. The reference waistcoat I used had floral embroidery on it. Had this actually been a Hobson outfit, I would have converted them to his garland flower (Forget-Me-Nots), but since it was a Valse pick I decided to make them Senaliesse chrysanthemums; a flower given out to friends of the Feywild's Summer Court as a sign of protection and favour. (It also adds extra layers to Pocket mistaking Hobson for a denizen of the Fey, which is fun).

Close crop on the details because I'm very happy with how they turned out:

[sskk-manifesto]

\

[bigtiddygothhusband]

Art fight attack of AverageRatEnjoyer's nameless prophet god oc!

[kwyoz]

more sketches of my v. i cant stop drawing him aughhhhh,,,

[pellucid-constellations]

Knowing You

Azriel was intimidating, scary—a menacing presence in almost every setting. But not to you. Never to you.

Tattoo Artist!Azriel x Elementary School Teacher!Reader (1k words, modern au)

~~

“Why’s your boyfriend all…pissed off?” 

“Huh?” You spun your head around, finding Azriel towering over everyone else in the room, a scowl seemingly permanent on his face. His eyes narrowed from time to time, taking in the crowd and its unwillingness to calm. He remained plastered to the back wall. 

“Oh,” you laughed, turning back to your friend with your fingertips drumming against your jaw. “He’s not pissed. That’s just his face.” 

Your friend’s brows jumped up to her hairline. “He always looks like that?” 

“He doesn’t look that angry.”

“Absolutely no one is approaching him. This is a party. He looks about ready to pummel that tiny guy next to him.” 

“He’s just a little intimidating,” you reasoned. “And—hey, look!” you pointed over your shoulder. “He smiled a little, see?” 

She scoffed, sipping her beer. “I don’t get it. You’re all… well, you. And he’s all dark and mysterious and—honestly kinda scary.” 

You chewed on your bottom lip and turned further to inspect the man you had been in a relationship with for the better half a year. Was he scary? You certainly didn’t think so. Maybe a little at first. Maybe when you walked into that tattoo shop with your friend and his dark gaze almost burned a hole in your head. But not now. Never now. 

“You don’t really get him, that’s all.”

“And you do? He’s got a whole thing going on that you shouldn’t be tied up in,” your friend urged, but this was hardly the time for long, important conversations. You were tipsy and the music was too loud and, to be honest, you’d heard it all before already. Nothing was going to change your mind about Azriel. 

“Are you even listening, y/n? You’re polar opposites. And you said that he smiles but I have still yet to see one since—oh.” 

Azriel spotted you then—his goal from the moment he walked into this overly crowded house. He hadn’t been pissed. He’d been looking for you. 

And it was clear that he spotted you, because the second he did a wide grin split up his perfect face. It simmered a bit when he realized your friend was observing the scene, but a quirk of his mouth still remained. He started his path to you then, weaving in and out of the inebriated crowd. 

He touched you the moment he could, his hand meeting the small of your back as you sat on the creaky kitchen stool. His lips pressed against your temple and a murmured greeting was lost in your hair. He was lost in the bubble he created each time he had you in his grasp, your bright eyes and adoring smile rendering him unmoveable, but then your friend subtly cleared her throat and Azriel looked away. 

“Hello, Amber,” Azriel greeted, keeping your body slotted into the crook of his arm. “Having fun?” 

She blinked at him. He really was intimidating, especially up close. Even with the heightened bar stools, he was a good head over where the two of you sat. 

“Um, yes, thank you.” 

“And the summer break?” he questioned. He had started to rub circles into your spine. 

Amber stuttered again, thoughts lost in her head before replying, “It was good. I’m sorry—how do you know my name?” 

“Y/n’s mentioned you. I’ve seen your Instagram, too. Connected the dots.” 

“Right,” Amber nodded, her eyes trailing down the vast array of tattoos that wound up from the neck of Azriel’s shirt. 

Azriel then looked back down to you. His voice was low, almost too low for the pounding music, but he made up for that by pressing up closer to you. “Are you ready to go, sweetheart?” 

You giggled at the feel of his breath at your ear, pushing him away slightly in a haze. He only shook his head and smiled at the space you’d created. 

“Trying to flirt with me in public? Azriel, you are scandalous.” 

He only breathed out a laugh, gaze bouncing between your glossy eyes. Once you stopped giggling enough to meet his stare, his expression softened. “You told me to pick you up at eleven. You have a lesson plan, pretty girl.”

You gasped, slapping a hand against Azriel's chest that didn’t even have him flinching. You whipped your head over to Amber—who was staring at the two of you in confused amusement —and hurriedly offered, “I have to go! Third grade!” 

In his efforts to capture your attention, Azriel had woven both of his arms around you to meet at your lower back, a hold that you now shot out of. You wobbled as you pressed out of the stool and grabbed Azriel’s leather sleeve. An unnecessary gesture; anyone at this party could see that the man would follow you anywhere. 

“I didn’t prep the multiplication tables,” you rambled, words slurring together. 

“You did. I helped you with the formatting on the iPad.” 

“I let you touch my iPad?” you gasped. 

“No, sweetheart. It was mine.” 

“Your work one?” 

Azriel only continued to guide you out of the party, you none the wiser to the dirty looks he was shooting everyone too drunk to get out of the way. 

“Let’s get back to your apartment, okay? Then we can deal with the iPad.” 

You giggled, springing off the threshold to the front door and giving Azriel a heart attack. “Okay!” 

[kay-great]

Invincible Variants!xReader Imagine

This got WAY longer than I expected it to. I wrote it in a way that wasn’t specific to an individual variant. Reader is referred to as ‘girlfriend’ a lot and has references to their cunt and pussy. M/f Sex scene, consensual but under false terms (reader is dating mark and doesn’t know the variant has swapped him out). Lots of blood mentioned, and reference to character death! (Main character died in different dimension). Also like, facist ideas? Variant thinks those with power deserve to do whatever they want with it.

Enjoy!

———————————————

-reader and OG Mark have been dating since Highschool, but have known eachother since childhood

-you both dreamed of becoming superheros when you grew up, and bonded over childish fantasies of glory and power and adventure and fun!

-you have the ability to control light! Refracting it, bending it into rainbows and high-intensity beams, and simply creating it from yourself. It’s very beautiful, but eventually you had to reconcile that it was not strong enough to fight crime

-this reconciliation happened right around the time that OG Mark got his powers

-at first he tried hiding it from you, but eventually he confided in you, needing your support.

-knowing that he’s living your childhood dreams while you live a civilian life has been really difficult for the relationship, but you guys make it work. Besides, seeing how bloody and bruised he gets- oftentimes you are thankful to be out of the line of fire

-of course, he always comes to you after a fight if he can. And you’ve gotten into the habit of patching him up. Sometimes you tell him to go seek a real doctor, and that you’re not trained enough to stitch him back together, but he insists that his healing abilities render intricate patch-work obsolete. Besides, he says that your soothing hands heal him in more ways than one.

-if all that’s not hard enough, you’re also a Junior in college, and midterm season has been hitting you HARD

-you still have one last big test tomorrow, but the exhaustion of studying for all your other classes has really caught up to you, so you turn off all your electronic distractions, and crash for 16 solid hours

-suddenly you wake up to the distant sound of sirens. Damn- college dorms always have faulty fire alarms. The fire department has probably visited your campus 4 times since the semester started. Your pillow welcomes you as you nuzzle into it- praying it will drown out the distraction.

And it works! The sound is immeadiately muffled as your dorm window closes with a ‘click’.

-your right cheek bunches up against your face as you smile into your pillow. You know that ‘click’ so well- and you have missed your boyfriend.

-the crust in your eyes breaks as you turn to look at your beloved intruder. Strange, it’s dark. They must have pulled the curtains over the window- maybe because they didn’t want to interrupt your sleep? Wow, Mark is the sweetest :)

-Your fingertips gently glow as a delicate sprinkling of warm light floats above you. Mark loves how your powers shimmer to life.

-did you know that your sense of smell is the last thing to wake up? Yes, scent and taste don’t kick in right away. But suddenly you can taste the blood in the air

-and as your gentle light makes its way to the shadowed window, your stomach drops as your boyfriend stands DRENCHED in red, staring at you

-the glowing lights cast strange shadows across the room, and as you leap towards your boyfriend, the lights scatter- throwing their shadows around at lightning speed, disorienting the room in hectic growings and shrinkings.

-but that doesn’t matter right now, your boy NEEDS you right now. Is it all his own blood? God, you hope not! Whats wrong with him? Why is he staring so intently? What’s wrong? What should you do? What should you do? What should you do?

-your finger leaves a clean indent where you caress his blood-ridden cheek. You uncover some of his mask, and somewhere in your subconscious you intake that his mask is different than usual. But your panicked and sleep-torn state doesn’t allow this information to dwell. He’s not moving! Just staring at you! He’s fucking unresponsive- you’ve got bigger problems.

-“Mark?” He notices the tremble in your throat as you choke out his name- oh his name. He hasn’t heard you say it in so long. And now you’re even touching his cheek! Even though it’s all covered in blood. You must really love him, huh? Even though he’s scaring the shit out of you right now. He can tell. His fingers twitch as he thinks to reassure you. He could mark your body with his bloody handprints as he took you in his arms- never letting you go. You’d look pretty like that.

-“Mark?” You repeat. “Are you alright?”

-pleasure crosses his face- you were just the sweetest weren’t you?

“I’m fine now that you’re with me, y/n.” -he luxuriates your name. Like it was a treat to call your name. Like he hasn’t said it in a while. He hasn’t.

“Mark you’re covered in blood!”

-Awwww, you care so much, “Its not mine.”

-This does stand out to you. This is not the first time Mark has come to you like this, but when it’s not his blood, he usually tries to stop from dripping on your carpet. You yelled at him once about the dorm-cleaning fees at the end of the year- and he’s never forgotten. But he’s forgotten now. And he’s talking weird. And he won’t quit staring at you. And the sirens outside don’t really sound like fire alarms. And your instincts tell you that something is wrong.

-And he notices.

-The slightest twitch in your eye, the smallest back step, the tiniest hitch in your breath- and he knows you’re on to him.

-But he knows exactly how to work you. You are the sweetest girlfriend after all. He takes a breath-

“But I needed to know you were alright- the villain I fought, he…” pause for dramatic effect, “…he threatened you. I don’t know how he knew your name but he did. I could never let anything happen to you, you know? And I.. I couldn’t help it I… I mean I had to I…” you look at him frantically, maybe he’s milking it too much “I killed him. Oh GOD! I killed him. Do you think I’m a monster?”

-You gasp, and tear up a little- bingo!

“Oh Mark of course not. You did what you had to do. Oh you could never be a monster, you’re just put under more stress than any person ever should be. Oh I’m so sorry baby, come on- let’s get you cleaned up.” You croon over him. Sticky stains be damned, your arms wrap around his head; and he does not hesitate to pull you flush into him. His arms rub soothingly over your form as his hands find purchase in many bundles of your flesh. He paints you red, and although it spikes your discomfort, you try to work through it- after all, you need to be a supportive girlfriend right now! He’s obviously so vulnerable right now that he can’t even register small things like covering you in blood.

-He can register it. In fact he’s taking pleasure in it. Also he’s not vulnérable, he’s a conniving lovesick psycho who is willing to sacrifice a bit of ego to get you to coddle him. Besides, he’ll regain all his cocky supremacy when you realize his “sad puppy” performance was an act. But until then, he has determined that taking advantage of your sympathy is the most lucrative option. After all, now that he’s got you all dirty, you’re pulling him towards the shower. Just how far can he take this rouse?

-the moldy college shower reminds you of the infamous PSYCHO scene, as the water start to pull the blood from your boyfriend’s being. You are unashamed to be washing him with your honey-scented bar soap. You ARE dating after all. But you think better than to join in; you want to give your poor boy room to process his recent breakdown.

-but apparently he does NOT want space to process. Your eyes blur with water as he pulls your face right under the shower head. He takes advantage of your temporary blindness to remove his suit.

-damn, that’s too bad. You wanted to take a closer look at his suit. But as you fully step into the shower, you are pressed very close to your boyfriend’s incredibly muscular body. And thoughts of clothes quickly melt away.

“Were you going to keep washing me? Or are you busy with something else?” His smirk boils your cheeks as you realize you’ve been caught staring.

-you set out to get all the blood gone. God it smells terrible, but as you uncover more and more of your boyfriend’s muscular body, the less you are able to focus on the blood. Focus on the blood! He has just been through a traumatic experience he does not need to fuck right now! Just focus on the soap. Didn’t he used to have a scar here? Trailing down towards his.. shit is he hard?

-Fuck, it’s disgusting in this fucking shower, but you can’t help the heat pooling between your thighs.

-his eyes are dark.

“You’re doing perfect, y/n, but I think now it’s your turn.”

-oh fuck. Your slick fingers seem to vibrate against his as he takes the soap from your hand. God he’s acting different, but you can’t find it within you to complain.

-since he so uncerimoniously pulled you into the shower, you’ve been in your wet-ass pajamas this whole time. You’ve been grateful to them actually, as they’ve been very helpful in suppressing your arousal. Now, however, as his strong fingers delicately pull as your clothes- you curse them.

God those fingers- fingers that could stop a fucking train, that could catch bullets, and punch buildings- and they were so gentle on your skin. You didn’t know what it was, but somehow it all felt different than it usually did. Your subconscious screamed at you that he was dangerous. That somehow he was different than your usual Mark. Maybe it was the recent battle, but whatever it was, he seemed volatile.

-and yet, coupled with the delicate confidence with which he pulled apart your clothes and groped at what was left- you were intoxicated.

-why couldn’t he be like this all the time?

-and he took full advantage of your intoxication. he soaped up your tits and watched them bounce as he started humping you mercilessly. He didn’t bother to clean off the blood from your neck before sucking at it- seeming to take pleasure in the perverse taste. And his eyes fucking bore into yours- greedy for every pleasured expression he could bribe out of you. And once he had you moaning good and loud for him, he finally leaned in to your ear and whispered-

“I can smell your cunt”

-And with that he pushed in two fingers. And you were reminded just how powerful those fucking fingers were.

-And after he coaxed an orgasm out of you? With that shit-eating grin? He lines himself up to your cunt with all the credence of a hunter putting a knife through an animal they successfully caught. Like he fucking owns you. Like putting his dick in you was his fucking birthright. And he fucks you like that too. Slow and fast and forward and back. He watches your tits bounce until you orgasm, and when you do he flips you over to watch your ass do the same.

-by the time you’re done there is not a trace of blood.

-he carries you back toyour bed bridal style, as you whine that you can’t walk.

-you invite him into bed with you, but he instead just gives you a small forehead kiss, and caresses you again, before he tells you he has to get the blood stains out of his suit first. He goes back into the bathroom, and the sink squeaks as he turns the water on. He doesn’t close the door, but from your view on the bed you cannot see him.

-you decide it’s time to finally open your phone, and you grab it from off your nightstand and turn it back on.

-as soon as the screen lights up, the phone spasms with the bombardment of seemingly hundreds of urgent texts, notifications, alarms, alerts, and missed calls. They all come in in a matter of seconds:

“URGENT: MULTIPLE HIGH-THREATS: SEEK SHELTER IMMEDIATELY”

“INVINCIBLE LOOK-ALIKES HIGHLY DEADLY, AVOID AT ALL COSTS”

Mark💖: “Are you okay?”

“Campus Update: ALL STUDENTS EVACUATE TO TORNADO SHELTERS”

Mark💖: “babe you gotta wake up, if you see an invincible, that’s NOT ME!!

“INVINCIBLE Doppelgängers ATTACKING POPULATED CITIES, EVACUATE CITIES”

13 Missed Calls

Mark💖: “BABE THATS NOT ME”

“AVOID INVINCIBLE AT ALL COSTS”

—

-and the faucet squeaks off.

-and suddenly all you can hear in the whole apartment is the distant sirens and your wild heartbeat

-and Mark strides out of the bathroom

-and his suit is clean, but it’s still not right

-and nothing about him is right

-and it all makes sense now

-but he looks at you- hungry, wild

“Anything on the news?” His voice is poisoned honey.

“What- what do you want with me?”

-And he looks down at your cum-ridden pussy, and you instinctively clamp your thighs together, but it just makes him chuckle a little- god you feel so helpless

“Good question. Today has been a great start for what I have planned for you.”

-And you can’t help the frightened look in your eyes. You always thought you’d be able to stare death in the fucking face, but looking at the eyes of Mark Grayson was too much. He likes the way your eyes sparkled when pin-pricked with the smallest tears. But he wants your compliance, so he offers,

“Hey now, don’t worry. You’re going to love it. Just like how you loved me all of today. You did. I watched you. You let me bloody you just so you could ‘console’ me. You told me I could never be a monster. You washed me. You served me- and got yourself turned on in the process. You let me fuck you any way I wanted. And you loved it. You let me fill you up with cum, and you invited me to your bed afterwards. You knew I wasn’t what you were used to. You knew I wasn’t the right version of myself- you didn’t care. You loved me. And I know you will continue to do so.”

-Like steel. Your body felt like steel. With every word your stomach plummeted further down. Because it was all true, and there was nothing you could do about it. And now you really felt like crying, and he took this vulnerable moment to snare you.

“I lost my y/n. In my dimension. She had the same powers as you- she was weak. But she wanted to be a superhero so badly. She was killed by a common thief. She was protecting some arbitrary civilians.” He started walking towards you, pain on his face- but pain you weren’t sure you could trust.

“If she had just let me protect her- I told her I would. But she was stubborn. She didn’t want to admit that beneath me was her place- that some of us are stronger than others. That I was the strongest of all. Her death made me realize the importance of power. That people who have it must use it. She made me into what I am today. You made me into this.”

-Bile threatened to rise out of your throat. But as he slowly sat down next to you on the edge of the bed, nothing but adoring eyes, you found you couldn’t move at all. Not even when he reached a hand onto your bare fucking hip, rubbing circles into your flesh with his thumb.

“And now I know how to protect you. How to take care of you. I deserve you.”

-Tears spilled freely now, and to your horror he brought his free hand to your face to wipe them away. God he was too fucking close now.

“So I’ll give you a choice. I’m supposed to go back to my own dimension soon. Either you can come with me calmly, or we can stay in this dimension.”

-At that you quirked an eyebrow, the smallest amount.

“Of course, if we stay here, I’ll have to kill this dimension’s invincible so I can take his place. I’ll have to tie you up and use you as bait. He will probably be here within the hour to check on you. Pitiable really. Notice how I have been here protecting you so much sooner than him? Really it’s an upgrade.” His eyes gleamed.

-Fucking hell. Oh god. How are you supposed to choose ?

-You can’t wish death upon your real boyfriend; your best friend for years now. He’s certainly been fighting all the other invincibles- he will be exhausted. And if this fucking sadist in front of you has the element of surprise? Your Mark stands no chance. You can’t do that. And what happens to the rest of the world when your goofy hero with a heart of gold gets replaced with this psycho? You’d be sentencing the whole world to the whims of this monster

But how can you leave your whole life? Your family, your friends- you’ll never get to say goodbye. And instead you’ll be sentenced to servicing this look-alike in front of you. This liar, murderer, fucker who could kill you in a heartbeat. Torture you for not complying. This man who wears the face of your true fucking love. A constant reminder of what you’d lost.

“What will you choose, y/n? Tick Tock.”

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Wow this was way fucking longer than expected whoops I hope you enjoyed!! Please interact cuz it’s my favorite thing ever!! 🙏🙏

[pictopye]

I did these little FO4 doodles on a scrap of paper back in Oct. But with everything Oct threw at me it really put the kibosh on having time for just having some fun. So I finally got around to fleshing it out a little further today. With Hancock as soon as I had that cheesy grin I knew the direction I wanted to take with him; and will likely do a full render since I'm quite happy with the rough barring a few tweaks/changes here and there. Ham and Nick were just sprinkles of additional fun. Also I seriously cannot get @haileythesato's wonderful fan animation, 'Out of Context Nick Valentine' with it's "synth toaster" line outta my head - it lives there rent free now, and I'm honestly 100% OK with that. :P

Hence my swap out to a very 'brave little toaster' Nick.

[matchpointfaist]

a love like religion ˚₊‧꒰ა♡໒꒱ ‧₊˚

sheltered! art x flirty reader pt iii

the third time he saw you, art couldn’t decide between happy and horrified. he’d been doing his best to stay focused on his studies, his faith, and his training; on anything but you. his thoughts drifted, sure, but for the most part he thought he was doing pretty well. an entire week passed, and he managed to avoid you on campus, ignoring his fleeting thoughts of wishing to see you, even for just a moment.

he knew, in the back of his mind, that attending his teammates birthday party was a mistake. he knew you were in the same social circle, that you’d probably be there, all gorgeous and flirty and drunk and- it was just best if he didn’t see you.

he told himself he wasn’t taking extra care in his appearance for you; he just wanted to look good, that’s all. a birthday party is a big deal. so he got dressed in a button up and jeans, made sure his hair was perfect and his cologne wasn’t too strong, and tried to keep his head high as he entered the already too loud party.

almost immediately, his eyes fell to you. everyone’s did, though, he couldn’t blame himself. you were a vision of pink and silver shimmer, your hair falling down the dangerously low back of your dress. his breath quickened, his mind racing with excuses on how to get out of here before you noticed- and then, your sharp eyes were on his, a dangerous little smile on your glossy lips.

“donaldson!” your voice carried over the music like a melody, like some sort of siren call crafted just for him, rendering him helpless, “cmere!” and he practically floated to your side, a nervous smile on his lip, “uh, hi, hey. i didn’t know you’d be here,” he managed, biting the inside of his cheek and hoping he didn’t think too stupid.

“course id be here,” you grinned, “what’re you drinkin? i can get you a refill,” he shook his head, “no, i don’t drink, i can just get a water,” “you don’t drink?” you laughed, like it was the most insane thing in the world, “cmon, artie. come with me,”

so he followed you to the kitchen, let you pour him a cup of stale beer even though he knew it was wrong, it was stupid, it was a sin. “it’s cheap shit, but it’s fine,” you sounded almost apologetic as he sniffed it, trying to keep his nose from scrunching, taking a shy sip. “you look pretty,” he said after a moment, choking down the beer with what he hoped was only a slight grimace.

“you too,” you smiled, and for just a brief second, it seemed real. not like that fake, mocking smile you gave everyone else. in a flash, though, it was gone, replaced by the coyness you showed the rest of the world, “nice shirt. green looks good on you,” you trailed your fingers over the collar of his shirt, and he almost lost it right there in the crowded kitchen, his head swimming. “my grandma got it for me,” his cheeks flushed, acutely aware that was not the right thing to say, but you didn’t seem to mind.

“cute,” you just smiled, “here, finish that and i’ll make you another, kay?” he shook his head, already regretting the first round, “no, i really can’t, i’m sorry,” he rambled, “i have class tomorrow and i don’t drink anyway and-“ “don’t worry about it,” you rested a hand on his shoulder, “it’s fine, artie. we’ll have fun anyway, yeah? you can just watch me drink,” you teased. and oh, he did watch you. all night, you practically dragged him around the party, inches from you at all times.

he watched you laugh, watched you dance, watched you drink and smoke and all the things he’d always be too afraid to do. he watched you in rare moments of your true form as you interacted with your girl friends, watched you shut down the guys that tried to dance too close to you. he watched so intently he felt like he had learned who you really were in just a few short hours, like he’d cracked some sort of code he must have missed before.

at 11, he debated leaving without even saying goodbye, just leaving you to your dancing and talking. but as he turned to leave, you were calling his name, a little pout on your lips that sent him reeling. “i’ll walk you home,” you offered, and he took note of your heels in your hand, your bare feet on the floor. “no, that’s alright,” he smiled slightly, “thank you, though. that’s kind of you,”

“let me,” you pressed, “at least let me walk you out, art,” so he did, of course, like he did everything else you asked of him. you walked with him to his dorm, and when you asked to come in, he let you do that, too. even when his head was screaming at him to stop, that this wouldn’t end well, that temptation was the gateway to sin.

you just looked so fucking pretty, sitting there on his bed, your heels tossed in the floor and the skirt of your dress on his comforter. he wished he could memorize the moment, bottle it up and save it for when this night ended. surely you’d never be back there, he told himself, this was just one time. a lapse in judgment, on both your parts.

but then he was sitting beside you, and your perfume was so sweet, and your words were even sweeter when you asked him about his hometown and his family and the pictures on his bookcase. you sounded like you really cared, like you thought he was interesting. you, of all people.

“you can relax,” you told him, and his heart nearly stopped as you pressed your leg to his, scooting closer on his bed, “jesus, you’re so tense. i’m not gonna bite you, yknow. not unless you like that,” you winked again, and his cheeks were flushed, his mind working overtime to form words that just wouldn’t come.

“you shouldn’t be in here,” he finally blurted out, his eyes wide with fear of the way it sounded, like he didn’t want you there when that could not be further from the truth, “sorry- that came out wrong. i just- i can’t be with anyone, and you’re in my room and it’s late-“

“you can’t be with anyone?” you repeated, a laugh on your lips, “why not, hm? is the devil gonna getcha if you slip up?” and then your hand was back on his necklace like all those days before, touching it, burning into his skin, “live a little, art,”

and then you were kissing him, and oh god, oh god, oh god. it was heaven and hell and a mistake and bliss and burning and soothing and everything he’d been too afraid to admit he’d ever wanted. you tasted like vodka and cotton candy and sacrilege and he couldn’t get enough, couldn’t hold back the sounds leaving him from the simple act of your kiss, couldn’t stop his hands from wandering and fuck, you were so warm and so soft and he could’ve died right there when you climbed into his lap, kissing him dizzy, tipping his jaw open with your fingers and dipping your tongue into his mouth.

he would’ve let you do anything in that moment, would’ve let you ruin the path he’d been on for so many years, would’ve let you dismantle all his plans and his faith and anything you wanted if you just kept grinding against him, kept kissing him so sweetly, so dangerously.

and then you sank to your knees off the bed, your hands pulling at his belt and your eyes shining as you blinked up at him, a sultry little smile on your swollen lips. “you’re so hard,” you hummed, sounding content as you pulled down his jeans, “has a girl ever touched you like this, hm?”

“no,” it came out like a whine, his hips bucking into your hand as you ghosted your fingers over his cock, “jesus- no, no one has,” you made a little noise, like you were pleased, and your eyes widened as you pulled down his boxers, taking him into your hand. “this is so- oh, this is so bad,” he hissed in half-pleasure, half-anguish as you pumped him slowly, your lips parting. “why’s it bad?” you asked, so innocently, so sweet, “just making you feel good, art. that’s all,”

“a sin,” he panted, eyes screwed shut, knowing full well if he looked at you he’d finish right there, just from your hand, “this is- sex before marriage is a sin and,” he trailed off, fucking into your hand despite himself, a little whine leaving his throat.

“oh, no,” you tsked, and when he dared to open his eyes, you were pouting up at him, “it’s okay, art. i’ll be good, yeah? i’ll make up for it,” he didn’t have time to question how before your tongue was on him, licking at the tip like a lollipop, and his eyes rolled back, his hands fisted in his sheets.

“forgive me father, for i have sinned,” you murmured, and he choked out a moan as you took him into your mouth fully, so warm and wet and close- fuck, he was so close. you pulled away with a pop!, “holy mary, mother of god, pray for us sinners,” and then his cock was down your throat, and you were humming around him and he was so fucking close- his hands were in your hair before he could think to stop himself, his hips bucking into your mouth, your name leaving his lips between moans and pleas.

he didn’t know what he was asking for, exactly. forgiveness, release, for you to slow down so this never stopped, but for you to make him cum down your throat like he’d imagined so many times before. one hand was in your hair, the other clutching his sheets as he came, panting and moaning and whining he opened his eyes in just enough time to see you licking your lips clean, wiping your chin with a grin, sucking your thumb into your mouth.

you leaned down, kissing him until all he could taste was salt and sweat and you, god, you, and then you were gone, his lips still hot. “amen,” you whispered against his ear, gathering your heels and pausing at the door, “see you around, art,”

and then, for the second time, you were gone. he looked down, and nearly fainted when he saw what was left in his floor. your pink lacy panties, complete with a little wet patch, bundled up just for him.

“forgive me father,” he mumbled to himself, picking up the lace and tucking it into his nightstand, not even bothering to clean himself up before curling up and drifting off, his mind busy with thoughts of you.