#and it stands out as a very core memory. but I like that their designs contrast each other with senzou’s wispy lyrical shapes

[quirinah]

aether/earth

[retrosabers]

𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬.

*relationship & smut hcs written with fem!reader in mind*

contains: a lot of angst (mentions of insecurity, past trauma), some relationship fluff, 18+ SMUT CONTENT BELOW THE CUT. MINORS DNI (praise kink, dry humping, fem receiving oral, a tinge of dirty talk)

word count: 2.2k

a/n: if you had a dollar for everytime i apologized for not posting, boy would you be rich LMAO

this writer’s block is no bueno. but, i can sense my bucky era coming back full throttle and i think he might be the cure. enjoy these unnecessarily angsty hcs in the meantime ;) and feel free to share any of your own!

GENERAL/PERSONALITY:

is very fond of the outdoors. he’s not a “take a hike and run a mile” kind of guy, but he gets genuine enjoyment and relaxation from sitting on a park bench and breathing in the fresh air and soaking in his surroundings. one afternoon you surprised him with a trip to a botanical garden on the outskirts of the city and he absolutely loved it. you don’t think you’ve ever seen bucky more at peace than when he was wandering amongst the greenery without an ounce of tension in his body.

can’t stand clutter. once he warms up to acquiring more belongings, everything has its designated place and it needs to stay that way. call it a mild case of ocd, or an undying need to control the ins and outs of his day to day life, but bucky can’t even think about shutting down for the night if his apartment is a mess. any files out on the table get tucked away in a well organized filing cabinet, dishes are dried and placed in the cupboard, laundry is either in the hamper or folded neatly in its respective drawer. he keeps everything as neat and pristine and possible for the sake of his sanity.

one of the only useful pieces of advice he retained from therapy was journaling. bucky still struggles a bit with verbalizing his feelings, so he often just writes them all down in lieu of talking it out. after he realizes just how much it works, he starts to journal about his days in detail. doesn’t matter if he’s feeling calm, or anxious, or how mundane the itinerary is, he makes sure to document it. partly because of the relief it brings, and just in case something happens to his memory again.

secret candle enthusiast, except it’s just one specific scent. you bought it for him as a housewarming present and he was absolutely certain that it was going to smell atrocious. what could possibly be so great about amber vanilla musk. turns out it’s the most perfect gift you ever could’ve given, so much so that he snuck over to bath and body works the next day to buy another one. the aroma fits him in a way that’s indescribable, plus it makes his apartment feel more like somewhere he wants to be rather than has to. it’s become a running gag to gift him one for every special occasion, and he always accepts it with a small, appreciative smirk.

this man is a real life disney princess. animals follow him EVERYWHERE and he’s got no clue as to why. you say it’s because they can sense at his core that he’s kind and gentle, and he always waves it off with a frown and a grumble (and a blush he desperately tries to hide). he feeds all the strays on his block, and eventually caves and brings one of them home. when you went to his place and found a tiny white kitten sitting on the counter, you thought you were hallucinating. then bucky walked in and gave a little scratch between her ears and it all pieced together.

“i knew it,” you mutter knowingly, eyes fixated on the way she preens from his touch. “you’re just a big ol’ softie.” bucky doesn’t offer any sort of rejection or rebuttal, only a halfway pointed stare before simply scooping the little animal into his arms and showing her off to you like she was a rare jewel.

he is very opposed to listening to current music, and the only way you can even remotely convince him to give things a try is if they’re on vinyl. it’s a happy medium, because even though the tunes may be vastly different than back in the 40s, he still has the familiar comfort of a record player. it’s still an uphill battle to get him to listen to anything made after 1950, but persuasion comes a bit easier when you pull out a record from your personal collection.

*psst. i have a fic about this you can kinda read about this here*

introducing him to doordash was a mistake because this man racks up an insane charge on his credit card with takeout. he hates the unnecessary socialization aspect of ordering at a restaurant so you best believe those delivery apps are his best friend.

loves to bitch and complain about maintaining his bike when in reality he enjoys it far more than he’d ever care to admit. he likes being able to fix something; to put his hands to good use and they actually have a positive impact instead of negative. offers to help any of the old timers at the va with their bikes if they have any trouble.

you know how some people get seasonal depression during the winter months from the bleak weather? bucky has that times a million, because the bone chilling cold never fails to trigger his ptsd, and send him right back into reliving his hydra days of being frozen against his will. when you catch wind of it, you make it a note to try and spend as much time with him as you can; make sure he’s not alone or that he at least has something else to occupy his mind other than his traumatic memories as the winter soldier.

IN A RELATIONSHIP:

old fashioned in the best way possible. while he strongly agrees with most of the 21st century’s stance on gender equality, he’ll never stop believing it’s a man’s job to take care of his woman. don’t get it twisted, he never tries to stifle your independence; it’s one of the many things he loves about you. but bucky can’t help but be a little “old-timey”; whether that be paying for your meals, or encouraging you to take a day off to relax while he’s working. it’s one of the only things he’s happy to have hardwired in his brain.

not entirely fond of pda but will ALWAYS have a hand on you when you’re out and about. usually a protective arm slung over your shoulder or a hand pressed into the small of your back. something that keeps you close to him for safety reasons, and also to let everyone else know that you’re taken.

doesn’t like to admit it but he can be a tad bit possessive. when you’ve spent nearly a century having zero control over your life and your choices, being territorial is inevitable. bucky will be damned if he loses the one good thing he’s ever had, especially to some punk who needs to learn how to back off. it’s a bit irritating at first, but once he lets his walls down and confesses the reason behind his actions, you let the man stake his claim every now and then. only because you know there’s no toxic intent behind it and because it’s lowkey a little hot.

#1 cheek kisser oh my GOD. this might not make sense to some people but if you’ve ever seen grey’s anatomy, derek has the most gentle way of kissing meredith on the cheek and that’s exactly how i picture buck.

the “i hate everyone but you” boyfriend (except he’s not really mean to anyone per se, he just does a complete 180 and turns into a big pile of mush when you’re around.)

king of random gestures. he loves making you happy and will take just about any opportunity he can to see you smile. you got a raise at your job? there’s a bouquet with a note waiting at your desk. sometimes you’ll come home to little “just because” presents on your dining room table because bucky can’t help but find little glimpses of you everywhere he goes. it’s his unspoken way of showing just how much he loves and appreciates you.

when he’s tired and grumpy he 100% does grabby hands (with a sweet lil pout might i add) to get you to come into bed and it’s the cutest thing ever.

sam wasn’t kidding when he said bucky’s got a staring problem, but it’s much more endearing in a romantic context. he finds you so beautiful, so mesmerizing; how is he not supposed to stare? and it won’t always be because he’s admiring you externally. sometimes he’ll be so caught up thinking about how lucky he is that you; sweet, kind, funny, and caring you, chose him as your person. he can’t help it if his eyes are glued to you while he’s pondering. everytime you catch him, he breaks out that shy little smile of his, and you find yourself falling in love all over again.

“you’re staring y’know,” you tease, feeling your face warm under his observation. he just shrugs, gaze unwavering as he saunters closer. “can’t help it.” he always take pride in watching you grow flustered as he closes the gap and presses a sweet kiss to your lips.

hot take: everytime i see “doll” used in fics for him i cringe real bad. i see bucky as more of a “honey” and “sweetheart” kind of guy. more honey than anything. in all honesty, i don’t see him breaking out pet names often, but if he’s going to, it’s one of those.

throws you over his shoulder like it’s absolutely nothing when you’re being difficult or arguing because he knows it’s a way to help playfully ease tension, as silly as it is. if he can get you laughing then you’re not mad, and if you’re not mad, he can reason with you a little better. it also leads to some very delicious sex afterwards when he conveniently drops you onto the mattress.

he’ll do the sweetest thing where if your hands are full this man will come up behind you and either put your hair in a braid or a ponytail (a pretty decent one might i add) if you need it away from your face. it’s always sealed with a kiss to the crown of your head and a squeeze of your hip, and never fails to give you butterflies.

SMUT:

i swivel back and forth between thinking that he’d be a bit hesitant or shaky with intimacy or that he knows how to please a woman in under five minutes. i honestly believe it’s somewhere in the middle; that while he does indeed have experience from his whore days back in the 40s, nowadays he’s not as willing to get to that point with someone unless there are deep feelings involved.

with that being said, when bucky decides to take that step in your relationship, boy does it take you by surprise. there’s a level of confidence that comes with being able to satisfy someone with such skill and ease, and he’s got it down pat. he’s even a little bit cocky with it, looking down at you smugly after your first orgasm, and it only amplifies your already flaming attraction to the super soldier.

nine times out of ten, sex is focused on your pleasure; he’s not cumming until you’ve cum at least once, and he’s not giving you a half assed release either. no, he’s working hard to make sure you see stars every damn time.

pussy eating king and i don’t think i need to elaborate on that.

is always down for a good dry hump. bucky loves kissing, kissing you more than anything, and one day he was particularly worked up, and it just…well it just happened. he was bright red once he realized what happened, but you quickly quelled any embarrassment he felt when you expressed that it was insanely hot. he didn���t even remotely understand why, until the next time it occurred. you were the one who came prematurely. and that, was when bucky understood the arousal behind it. now he’s got no qualms about having a good old fashioned makeout that may or may not end with a shared orgasm.

praise kink praise kink PRAISE KINK. it’s something he tries his hardest to hide but the boner he pops whenever you tell him he’s doing a good job in non intimate settings, and the increased speed of his thrusts when it happens during sex, are a dead giveaway. you tell bucky he’s being so good for you, making you feel so fucking good, and that man’s a goner. in his brain, it’s refreshing, exciting almost, to be told that he’s doing the right thing after a lifetime of being forced to make the wrong choices. what better place to hear that he’s right on track than when he’s with his lover?

hung. as. fuck.

i don’t foresee him being very vocal, but when he is, jesus take the wheel. somehow he always knows what to say and when to say it, no matter how few and far between the occasions may be.

“that feel good honey? yeah that’s right it fuckin’ does.” “always gonna take real good care of my girl.”

i don’t care if he’s got the serum stamina i 100% see this man conking out after sex. while he may be able to last a few rounds, the second you call it quits, the exhaustion overtakes him and he’s snoring into your pillow, but not before he pulls you close and peppers your face with kisses, muttering a final “i love you” before succumbing to slumber.

thanks for reading! <3

taglist: @dameronology @j4desblurbs @pandapetals

[redvexillum]

Alastor baking you cookies because its your birthday and they come out tasting just like your grandmothers old recipe your family lost when she went missing. While you guys are eating them Rosie comes in and asks about them and he says he made this recipe when he was alive and stole a family cookbook from a victim he ate.

I was sleep deprived and totally misread your ask and added a lot of my own flair to this and ended up writing whatever this is. I almost followed your request to the tee - "almost" being the operative word. Basically I wrote smut. Don't ask me how. XOXO, RedVexi 💋

A/N: I am contemplating on a part two (plot heavy), but as it stands now, this is a one shot.

SUMMARY: Alastor, the love of your life with an insatiable need when it comes to your flesh.

TAGS/WARNINGS: f!reader, fluff if you really squint super hard, alastor is in hell for a reason, blood kink, implied cannibalism, established relationship, possessive/obsessive love, p in v, love at first bite

You never imagined meeting the love of your life in Hell. The mere thought would have your family doing somersaults in their graves – if they weren’t already in Hell or Heaven themselves. Yet here you were, surrounded by the strange beauty of the underworld.  

Fireflies, glowing like tiny flickering embers, danced around you, their soft light wrapping you and your love in a shimmering embrace. The marshy grass beneath you sank under your weight, while tall, gnarled trees bent over, casting a long shadow in the dim light. The distant chorus of croaking frogs and chirping crickets echoed the bayou you loved when you were alive.  

It filled you with warmth that the demon – the man – you fell for shared that sentiment. The earthy, musky scent in the air brought back memories of summers spent trekking to your grandmama’s cottage. But those sweet memories quickly turned bitter as you recalled the last moments you had with her.  

“Focus on me, my dear,” came the crackling, layered voice of Alastor. His eyes, glowing red like the fires of Hell, burned into you. The sharp points of his claws traced a slow, deliberate path from your hip up to your sides, before he stretched his arms out to clasp your wrists. He brought your hands to frame your face, his imposing form looming over you.  

Your eyes roamed over his features, taking in the twitch of his big, fluffy ears atop his head each time your breath hitched. His large, unblinking eyes tracked every tremor, every shudder that wracked your body. Whereas the most intimidating feature of him, his teeth – his sharp, dangerous teeth – glistened with saliva as he trapped you beneath him, bare and vulnerable.  

Lowering his head, his grip around your wrists tightened as his tongue laved against the juncture of your neck and shoulder. He moaned in a depraved tone that would scandalize the ladies of your time. The sound he made was reminiscent of when he had a particularly delightful time eating a hunk of fresh Sinner’s meat in Cannibal Town.  

His hot tongue continued to suckle, as if trying to drink in the blood pumping quicker and quicker beneath the thin layer of your skin.  

Heat and pressure lanced through you, coursing down every nerve ending before igniting in your core. Your breath came out in louder gasps from each suck, urging Alastor to bring his hips closer to your aching centre until you couldn’t tell where you ended, and he began.  

“Mhm,” he hummed, “patience, darling,” he murmured, trailing kisses up your neck, leaving a cool trail along the edge of your chin before hovering close to your lips. “All good things must be savoured, love,” he grinned, as if the very word ‘love’ was the funniest joke he had ever heard in all layers of Hell.  

Stifling your whimper, you closed your eyes, trying to endure Alastor’s relentless teasing. Lovemaking with him was a torment of pleasure, his games designed to push you to the brink until your eyes watered from the unbearable barb of desire that prickled before sinking a thousand sharp claws into you.  

When you reached that pinnacle, sobbing for relief, Alastor’s red, intense eyes would nearly lose focus as he savoured your expression. He would then take you with a fervour as if it were his last act before his final breath.  

His love, if it could be described with one word, would be: voracious.  

His hands and body immobilized you, leaving you to writhe under the weight of his control and desires. He pressed the shaft of his hardened cock right up against the lips of your entrance. You almost cried, desperate to grind against him to relieve the pressure, the throbbing, the heat that built steadily inside you without any sign of granting you reprieve.  

A whimper escaped your lips, causing his ears to twitch, before he groaned against your sweat-slicked skin. His breath came in short bursts, his body trembling before he finally relented. Pressing, pressing, and pressing against your core, grinding and coating his cock with your essence.  

“Al-Alastor,” your voice, thin and wispy, barely made it past your throat, “p-please?” Your pleas didn’t fall on deaf ears. Alastor’s muscles seized, and he drew back, the grin on his face slowly splitting past his cheeks.  

“Please, what?” his lips curled with wicked delight as his eyes danced with amusement.  

Despite being with him for over half a century and sharing your body in an act of union for hundreds of nights and mornings, you could still feel the heat blistering your cheeks.  

Trembling, you fought against his grip around your wrists, but he pressed your arms down, letting the soft, marshy grass embrace your form. You wanted to embrace him, feel the warmth of his chest against yours, feel the thrum of his heartbeat pounding as he continued to ravage you.  

“Most improper, a lady must not act like some wanton whore in front of an unmarried man,” your grandmama’s voice echoed in your ears. Yet, despite both you and he being unmarried and sinning in front of the Lord by indulging in each other’s flesh, this was Hell. Here, propriety didn’t matter. Here, you could be true to your desires.  

“Please,” tears of uncontrolled shame pricked your eyes, “I want you, love.” Unlike the way Alastor said ‘love,’ your tongue wrapped around the word, caressing the sound as you infused it with every drop of your feelings that resided within your heart.  

You wondered if Alastor knew how much you meant to him. How much you truly loved him despite both being damned as cursed creatures.

Alastor shuddered an exhalation before his lips touched yours, sinking into your embrace. He melded with you, stretching you to make his presence known.  

A sharp yelp ripped away from your throat as Alastor increased his pace, his hips slapping against your core. The wet, sodden mud squelched beneath you, mingling perfectly with the sound of your bodies coming together over and over again.  

His hardened cock bruised the inside of you, each thrust making your body shudder. His forehead drifted lower to rest against your shoulder, the heat of his breath ghosting over your skin. His claws freed your wrists, now grasping your hips with a possessive intensity.

In and out. You moaned as your fingers found purchase on the back of his head, clutching his hair tightly. In and out. His cock slide with ease through your dripping arousal, the friction sending waves of pleasure through your core.

The sound of the artificial bayou melted away, replaced by the sounds of your keening and lovemaking. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and desire. Legs wrapping around his waist, you sobbed as his cock penetrated you, going deeper and deeper with each powerful stroke.

You were so close, the tension coiling tightly within you, and Alastor knew it. He growled like a feral animal, his grip tattooing your skin with the shape of his fingers. He doubled down, fucking you into the ground with relentless fury. His movements were uncontrolled, each thrust a testament to his desire, as he drove you toward the edge.

Your voice, broken in staccato, climbed higher and higher, your peak approaching at dizzying speed. With one particularly hard slam of his hips, your breath was knocked out of you. Head spinning with vertigo, your eyes rolled back as your spine arched upward as if a current of electricity shot through you.  

Your walls fluttered against the molten heat of his cock, clenching tightly around him, beckoning him to join you in release.  

Raising his head, his lips brushed against the shell of your ear. Warm breath tickled the sensitive nerve as he spoke, his words mingling with his breath. “How sweet your voice is, darling,” he murmured, grinding the front of his hips against your swollen, wet centre.  

“Al - t-too mu-mu-ah!” you managed to choke out before he jerked his hips, kissing the deepest part of you with the head of his cock.  

“Let me taste you, my sweetheart,” he groaned, his tongue licking the same spot he always gravitated towards. “I want to hear you scream my name.” 

If there was one thing that was peculiar with Alastor, it was that he could never finish unless he bit you, hard enough to draw blood, hard enough to drink your life’s vitality.

Soft moans filtered through your lips as you lolled your head to the side, like prey on its back, open and submissive. Your neck bared for him to bite you however he pleased. Still, the tremor continued to infect your nerves. No matter how many times he had done this, you couldn’t stop the quiet whimper from escaping as you fidgeted under him. 

“Shh,” he soothed quietly, his cock buried deep within you. “You know you love it when I make you feel this way. Just give into me, darling,” his tone pitched high as he tried to smother away his chuckles. “Let me hear you beg for it,” his words laced with a dark, sinister tone.  

His breath ghosted over your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. The sensation was a blend of ice and fire, each touch shooting liquid heat through your veins. You could feel every inch of him inside you, the deliberate, slow pace driving you to the brink of madness despite finishing first. Your body responded to his every move, arching into him, craving more.

Always, craving more.  

When his teeth finally sank into your flesh, the pain seared through you. But immediately after, it was followed by a wave of euphoria, a release so intense it squeezed the breath out from you. The contrasting sensations of pain and pleasure intertwined, and you responded by clenching around him tightly.  

Alastor’s grip punctured your skin, his hips moving with a renewed urgency. His growls of satisfaction reverberated through your body, a primal sound that echoed in your ears. You could feel the pull of his lips, the suction as he drew your blood, mingling with the heavy thump of your heartbeat pounding in your head.  

Your lips traced over the letter of his name over and over again. The thick scent of metal blended perfectly with the earthy scent of the bayou.  

Dizzying.

Intoxicating.

Addicting.

“My dear,” he moaned into your skin, “give me more,” his voice a long, drawn-out purr as his pace slowed. A loud exhalation accompanied the throbbing of his cock inside you. He poured into you, filling you to the brim while continuing to suck and consume your essence. 

As his hips slowed to a stop, he stayed buried within you, his tongue meticulously licking you clean of any crimson liquid that escaped your wound. Your eyes fluttered shut, your body going limp as you surrendered to Alastor’s ministrations, letting him savour the moment for as long as he desired.  

His lips remained affixed to your neck, drawing out every last drop, until his cock finally softened and slipped out of you.  

He slowly drew himself up, and you could see the faint stain of your blood shading his teeth as he grinned. Leaning his forehead against yours, he said, “Sweetheart,” in a southern drawl that reminded you of the people from your hometown from bygones past.  

A worm that continued to fester and grow inside you, feasting on your brain matter, squirmed its way through your thoughts. His tone was so familiar, like you’d heard it before, but the memory was shrouded by static, a white noise that covered what your mind was trying to recall.  

When his claws reached your cheek, you knew he was waiting to hear the words you always whispered after every intimate moment you shared.  

“I love you,” you said softly against his lips. He hummed in approval. He never said those words back, but you knew that men were taught to be stoic, as you had seen countless times while growing up.  

He chuckled lightly as he returned your kiss, the saltiness of your blood mingling with the taste of his tongue as it plunged into your mouth. He licked and massaged the sensitive walls inside you, each stroke sending a pleasant tingle down your spine. You felt a small twitch of his cock resting against your cum-soaked inner thighs. 

As he pulled away, his eyes softened, the fierce red glow dimming into a warm ember. “Happy birthday, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice taking on a rare tender tone. “I have a surprise for you.” 

A well of emotions burst from your heart, flooding you with warmth and gratitude. You showered him with kisses, your lips trailing over his own and across his cheeks. Each kiss was proof of your love, a silent thank you for remembering and cherishing your special day. Despite the passage of countless years, he had never once forgotten your birthday.  

He closed his eyes, his grin softening around the edge as he basked in your adoration. His hands stroked your side, soothing and comforting. The weight of his affection wrapped around you like a toasty warm blanket.  

At that moment, you felt completely and utterly cherished, every fibre of your being attuned to the demon who held your heart in his clawed hands.  

You sat on the chair, your nerves buzzing with excitement as Alastor sat across from you. He leaned forward, planting his elbows on the table and resting his chin against his hands. His grin widened, eyes squinting with a mischievous glint. Rolling his head slightly to the left, his right hand snapped his fingers. A plate of cookies appeared before you.  

You blinked once, then twice, in sheer disbelief. Alastor had cooked for you before, but as he wasn’t a fan of sweets, he had never once attempted to bake anything for you. The sight of the cookies made your cheeks flush with warmth, and giddy delight filled your heart.  

“Thank you, Al,” you beamed, your smile bright and sincere. You reached for the first cookie on the plate, noticing how it was baked to perfection. You giggled lightly as you weren’t surprised as Alastor did everything perfectly. There was nothing he couldn’t do.  

The rich smell of butter hit your nose first, and you muffled a squeal of delight as you recognized the familiar scents of nutmeg and cinnamon.  

You took the first bite, and your eyes widened. The crunch was perfect, and the taste of times long passed flooded your senses. Tears welled up as you slowly looked at the cookie now bearing your bite mark.  

It tasted like home.  

Gritting your teeth, you swallowed the bite along with your unshed tears.  

You took another bite. 

Memories surged forward – your grandmama stroking your head as you munched on her cookies. The memory was so vivid, you could almost feel her gentle touch.  

Another bite.  

The memory of her warm smile greeting you at the door, the comforting smell of cinnamon filling her cozy cottage.  

One final bite.  

The image of her packing cookies into your wicker basket to share with your family, knowing full well you would finish the rest as you walked through the bayou.  

Despite the intense desire to sob your eyes out, you chose to laugh instead, wanting to celebrate this moment with happiness and gratitude. You stared at Alastor, your heart swelling with so much love for the man who let you experience your most treasured memories with stark clarity. “Al, thank –” 

Your voice was cut off by a knock on Alastor’s door. It swung open to reveal one of Alastor’s very good friends, Rosie.

“Alastor!” Rosie exclaimed as she strolled in, her dainty fingers covering a giggle. “Oh, you’re with your sweetheart,” she said, her depthless eyes curved with amusement and her sharp white teeth glinted from the dim light. “I won’t take up too much of your time.” 

“Oh, nonsense, Rosie,” Alastor waved his hand, summoning a shadow tendril to drag your chair so you would be sitting right next to him. “Do stay for a chat! It is my sweetheart's birthday, after all! It’ll be a party!” He stretched his arms out theatrically, the room seeming to pulse with his infectious energy, making you laugh from his cute gesture. 

“Is it now?” Rosie’s face lit up with delight. “Happy birthday, sweetie.” 

You smiled brightly in response thanking her as Alastor snapped his fingers and another chair materialized by the table.

Rosie gracefully took a seat across from Alastor, looking down at the plate of cookies and tilting her head, confused. “Didn’t think you would change your taste for sweets now!” she remarked, leaning closer to inspect the cookies.  

Alastor’s hand naturally rested against the top of your thigh, his claws lightly grazing the sensitive skin. Though hidden beneath the table, his touch sent a wave of embarrassment blanketing your body, but you did nothing to push him away. His touch was a peculiar comfort, a reminder of his constant presence in your life.  

“Oh ho!” He laughed, his voice rich and resonant. “This is a gift for my sweetheart, and I daresay, it’s a hit!” 

Distracting yourself from Alastor’s claws slowly drifting closer and closer to your inner thighs, you nodded emphatically. “It’s really delicious!” You glanced over at Alastor, your eyes shining with genuine appreciation. “It’s probably the tastiest cookies I’ve eaten since coming down here!” 

“Oh, you lovebirds,” Rosie giggled as she teased lightly. She picked up a cookie, inspecting it with a curious tilt of her head. “Did you add some special meat into this?” she asked with a dark, mischievous smile.  

Your shoulders jolted up, a chill running down your spine as you looked at the plate of cookies. Alastor knew how you felt about eating other Sinners. He had reassured you time and time again that he wouldn’t push you to indulge in such a macabre practice.  

Alastor laughed boisterously, his hand still smoothing against the top of your thigh. “Oh, heavens no!” he exclaimed. You felt a wave of relief settle within you. “The recipe was from an elderly woman I’ve met in the bayou back when I was alive.” He snickered darkly, his hand climbing up closer to the apex of your thighs. “I wasn’t a fan of her taste, if you know what I mean.”  He waggled his brows, making it clear of the true meaning behind his words.

Rosie tittered in response and you... 

You froze.  

His words slowly sank into the depth of your mind. Your brows knitted together, the warmth that had previously suffused your chest turning icy. Dropping your hands, you grasped Alastor’s hand that was on you, a plea for stability, a plea that you heard wrong.  

“She had a cookbook, I believe it was called...” Alastor hummed, tapping his lips as his eyes rolled upward, trying to retrieve the lost information.  

“Cooking in the Bayou,” you whispered, the words slipping out involuntarily. It was a book your grandmama cherished, filled with recipes passed down from generation to generation. 

The sharp snap of his fingers shattered the frigid air, his smile morphing into a sinister grin before your very eyes. “That’s right!” he confirmed; his voice filled with eerie delight.  

He didn't ask how you knew the name of the cookbook.

The rest of Alastor’s and Rosie’s conversation drowned in your ears. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at Alastor. Your gaze fixated on the plate of cookies as your stomach churned with nausea.  

His hand, heavy on your thigh, continued its ministrations, gentle strokes as he laughed and talked with Rosie.  

You were on autopilot, politely nodding and smiling, pretending to hear the words that came out of their lips. Yet, your mind buzzed with the same white noise that had plagued you for years, ever since you first heard Alastor’s southern drawl peeking out from beneath his radio-static filter.  

The static grew louder and louder, engulfing your thoughts until you felt as if you were entering a void. And then, as if tearing through the very fabric of your reality, the words that had been lurking in the shadows of your mind finally broke free. 

The pupae of truth that had writhed within your consciousness finally transformed, bursting through its thin membrane. Clarity washed over you, harsh and undeniable.  

Every fond memory, every tender moment, every laugh shared with him now felt like a cruel joke.  

Rosie’s laughter echoed hollowly in your ears, a distant and mocking sound. Alastor’s touch now felt like a brand, burning into your skin. The room seemed to spin around you, the walls closing in as the weight of the truth threatened to crush you.  

Alastor’s eyes sparkled with amusement as he continued his conversation, oblivious to the turmoil that was shredding apart your sanity. He turned his head to face you when he noticed you now openly staring at him. He smiled at you, his grip on your thigh tightening.  

Alastor was the man who had killed and eaten your grandmama. 

Alastor was the man who had killed you.  

🔹️ Join my Taglist 🔹️ Alastor x Reader Masterlist 🔹️

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[yippee-optimistically]

there is a shockingly low amount of tmnt on this blog for how long ive been into it. big tmnt'12 dump bc ive been trying to binge it recently

general sibling interactions.. very attatched to the idea of karai getting to be their sibling + i was so sleepy i kept thinking abt the turtles brumating

more sibling karai. thought itd be funny if bc of the yokai/time travel ep when mikey did that weird dance at baby karai he was implanted in her brain as an automatic Favorite. hes so peculiar

read this fic abt the aftermath of shellacne. the last line from donnie has been repeated by my sibling since i sent it to them

ougugghhh into dimension x you are so famous to everyoneee.. 1st one is me thinking abt how mikey had to be So insane to get a KRAANG SKULL? strange guy. and i dont remember which one but i read a fic where mikey's breathing apparatus breaks n he ends up getting used to the dim x air and um. consequences back on earth

RENET!!!!!!!!!!! renet tilley you are SO FAMOUS TO ME milf shirt is bc april in s3e1 really makes it sound like mikey was the only one doing house chores. cooking cleaning caring for animals etc. single mom

!!!! concept for a weirrrddddd savage mikey rep thatd be in his head in Journey To The Center of Mikeys Mind. was thinking that instead of being outside in that checker floor area, hed stick around core mikey. protecting him n protecting that last bit of childhood innocence. hed stand very tall and intimidating. core probably wouldnt even really know where he came from?? smth abt the brain blocking out traumatic memories. i like him

tang shen aus... more specifically inspired by this fic that i need to finish catching up on.. mikey and karai sibling relationship is so special 2 meee

2012 LEO YOU ARE EVERYTHING 2 MEEEE wishing so bad we got to see more of him and mikey.. mikey and his brothers ... ougghhhhh

and a little bit of smth from a personal iteration im working on ... definitely excited to post abt them once i have more solid outfits designed

[heartofbusan]

A Tale of Two Earpods

Have you ever sat on a train while listening to music, and while you're watching the landscape, you feel heightened emotions? There's probably a name for this occurrence. It's almost cinematic even. When you're listening to music, it enhances this wonderful sense of detachment as the world passes you by at high speed.

That's probably what jikook were feeling, too, traveling past the pretty and snowy coastline. A little detached from the world inside the train, yet grounded in the music they're listening to together. We are invited into that bubble through the sounddesign as it gently invites us to come into their mindset.

There's a reason why this scene stands out. Something beyond the fact that when Jungkook gently laid his head on Jimin’s shoulder, he crushed the last dregs of sanity I had left, I mean.

----

The actual music we hear is considered a 'non-diegetic' layer. It's not something Jikook can hear, but it's added in later in post-production. This way, it functions as a guide for the audience to feel something. BUT, there is a very important physical element at play in this scene that gives an extra emotional entry into the minds of our main characters. The earpods.

Jikook are cutely sharing a pair of earpods 🥺 This places them inside a little auditory bubble separate from the audience: we can't hear what they're listening to. Luckily, Jungkook provides us with a genre: anime music.

So when Jimin remarks that it feels like they're in an animation (little did they know the scene would include actual illustrations), it was all those elements at play for him as well. The music is giving him the feels.

The soundtrack tries to let us in on their earpods by overlaying this moment with violin music, but it doesn't quite cut it tbh. I'm sure copyrights prevented them from sharing the actual music they're listening to. When Jimin starts to get playful and pretends to be a crying dog!?!?!? the cutest little flute/accordion piece starts playing. It's adorable and kind of folksy.

Then suddenly, the music switches to this soft electric guitar piece we've heard before in AYS, often at the end of sentimental scenes, like at the end of episode 4 when they're on the catamaran. It's a very melancholy yet hopeful piece, promising that this is not the end but a new beginning. At least, that's what it makes me feel.

In the train scene, this piece isn't used to end the scene, but it surprisingly builds towards something, a high point.

Here the music is reflecting not only their emotions: the train ride is amazing, they're really enjoying themselves, and it feels like another core memory being made, but it's also a guide for US watching THEM in THEIR moment. Like a little snapshot made for the audience. This is also OUR core memory now. Again, linking us directly to jikook, but also keeping us at a safe distance.

This concept feels foundational for AYS. Truly a show for them AND for us.

The actual highpoint of the scene ends with a beat of silence as JK puts his head on Jimin’s shoulder. After all the music, the silence at this exact moment is VERY LOUD in order to emphasize this gesture. A WORLD STOP.

And that's what I felt when I first saw it. That little beat of silence was an exclamation point, a silent scream. Your heart stopped beating for a second there, right? The sound design danced us right up until that point, swaying us gently from side to side and then suddenly it dipped us and made everyone take note. The shot fades out, the diegetic noise of the train can still be heard, and almost like we had to take a breath to clear our head, ... we're back to reality with JK's voice. Sigh.

If you're still reading this, I don't know what to tell you,...you too are obsessed with jikook 😮‍💨 send help.

----

I rarely travel on trains anymore, but next time I do , I look forward to emptying my mind of real-world problems, and I'll think of this little Jikook snapshot instead.

[ilikemicrowaves]

I'm normal about Carnelian (I say as I read her wiki for the 7262763 time)

Anyways, I here's all my hcs off the top of my head that I have. I'll probably add more or make another post with. But any ways, there's A LOT so under the cut

• She calls Turtle, Tortise and Kinkajou monkey because she forgets their names or wants to be a brat

• Her and Winter talk shit 24/7, 365. Mostly about Qibli and some of the gold winglet.

• hates the other skywings except Flame she fw Flame and thinks hus scar is badass (he doesn't believe her, womp womp)

• The only dragon she doesn't name call is Winter, Moon, and Umber. Qibli gets called sand muncher or Kibble.

• after a while she call Moon moron out if affection.

• Hated Scarlet not just because she was awful but tried to execute her for being friends with Peril at one point

• Hunting (or rather killing) is her unhealthy coping mechanism

• Truly dislikes Kinkajou and can't stand her

• likes Bigtail

• HATES Webs. She would have killed Webs during the invasion if she knew

• Prefers the dark

• Really idolized Tsunami and thinks she's pretty cool

• keeps trying to convince Tsunami to add a combat class and mentions it frequently

• rain makes her mad

• allergic to pollen. Blud is not smelling the flowers during spring

• Trying to convince Clay to let her and Flame wear matching Spike collars (he's scared she's gonna use it to kill someone)

• temper issues

• bad memory from ptsd effects

• orphan (parents died lmao)

• Is scared of Onyx (wtf is there an adult here???)

• wants ppl to think she listens to heavy metal but really she likes depressing hypepop and speed core stuff

• speech problems, struggles pronouncing L and S. (S sound like "sh" and L sounds like "y"

• Steals a lot of ppls food when she's to lazy to kill smth (usually from Qibli or one of the skywings)

• hates being looked at

• always squinting her eyes and RBF

• hates her name

• gave herself a nickname that nobody uses (Carnage)

• would wear a lot of baggy clothes and denim (her and Flame are pretty similar when comes to clothes)

• Pretty selfish but she's learning to be slightly nicer (it's not progressing well)

• reluctant to tell people about her nonexistent parents

• what would beak her? An explosion (😀)

• human!Carnelian would have a perm that almost hangs over her eyes and lots of face piercings

• has a husky and hoarse voice.

• HATES the noise of ppl tapping their claws (she does not understand adhd dragons 💔)

• Even though she was in the camp that believed Scarlet was deceased, I think she more of hoped than believed

• She misses her battalion a lot (they miss her skill, but not her.)

• out of her 14 battles, one was the invasion to the summer palace. She killed atleast 20 seawings

• She has a few broken teeth

• Her breath smells like ass (doesn't like brushing her teeth because her broken teeth hurt.)

• Her favorite color is actually maroon

• I based her design slightly off of a Harris hawk

• her and Flame have matching copper bracelets they made in art class.

• has Moonwatcher help her with the homework and reads to her

• Wishes Peril would talk to her (Very self-conscious about it and thinks Peril hates her)

• says dipshit a lot

• She thinks she's badass (she's not in most aspects)

• She looks a few years older than she is because of her squinted eyes and muscular build

• Mad JMA wouldn't let her bring in her spear

• skips music class almost every day

• Would refuse to go to any school dances unless Flame or Moonwatcher would ask her to go. (Most the time it's Moonwatcher, Flame hates the dances too.)

• hates all of the seawings but Turtle (DONT TELL ANYONE!!)

• wants to knock out Pike but restrains herself for Flame. (She's a little jealous of there frenemy-ship)

• Umber/turtle/Carnelian trio!!!!

[brightsstar]

Been a bit in the making, but i redesigned Phoenix (Eclipse v4) to fit better with the post-Mimic version of him, as well as laying out some new headcanons, which i will also type in text cuz of my chaotic handwriting on paper.

One of the more difficult things about this was trying to figure out where to have Puppet's hair be visible. I was inspired by a couple other designs i saw where Puppet's hair is visible on him in some form. My initial idea of him was that Puppet put her hair inside of him, but i didn't like that idea much, so I used this instead after a bit of debate with what i wanted to do with it. Puppet's hair is tied around Phoenix's shoulders. I'll also add some extra info to some of the headcanons to better make sense of how i see them.

Headcanons:

1. Phantom pain all over his body. Puppet's hair blocks out the worst of it. (He has times where he doesn't feel it at all, and even when he does, it's mainly a dull ache that doesn't vary much in intensity, and doesn't hinder his movement or ability to function. Reason i am not saying chronic pain is because the intensity doesn't vary that much. It remains mostly consistent. Annoying to him, but consistent. Going off what the show has shown so far. Eclipse doesn't seem very affected by his crushed endo, so i am going with this unless that changes)

2. His endo is still just as badly damaged as Mimic left it. (Ruin wants to properly fix him, but Eclipse still won't let Ruin that close to such a vulnerable spot. Yes, he still, very much has trust issues, and Mimic did not help that situation at all.)

3. His eyes have more gold than white as the incident brought out more Solar traits in him. (Past digital pieces i made depict Phoenix with golden eyes fading into white. Reason for that being because i still firmly believe Ruin made Ember/Phoenix (v3/v4) from that code he copied from Solar so long ago, and my Solar has golden eyes, and so does Ember in Sea and Sky, which would also be his true eye color if he had all of... well... Solar's memories in the main Stoked Embers AU. Because at Ember's core, he is a Solar, not really an Eclipse (as in the evil, vengeful types like v1/2 were. He has way more Solar mannerisms and traits, which carried over to v4). Ruin made tweaks to Phoenix to make him more Eclipse-like, by doing more proper implementation of Eclipse's memories, something that failed to happen with Ember. Ember was simply stuck with directives telling him how to behave and what to do. Phoenix doesn't have those. The white parts of his irises were leftover from Ember when he was killed, and the fact that Phoenix also doesn't have the full picture. However his eyes began to change to gold the more he grew and changed. He's behaving closer to Solar as time goes on and his eyes reflect that growth.)

4. He's a little nicer, but still very much Eclipse. (Self explanatory.)

5. He tries to hide Puppet's hair under his ruffles. Doesn't work very well. (He hates how weak it makes him look, knowing that's what's allowing him to be able to stand and move. The only other one who knows about this, besides Puppet ofc, is Ruin, but even if the others don't know, he doesn't like having it show.)

6. Of course he can't take her hair off or he'll be left as he was when Mimic was kicked out. (Not really a headcanon, it is canon.. but i'll throw it in anyways.)

[loz-furbies]

Breath of the Wild / Age of Calamity / Tears of the Kingdom Zelda, part 1/2

The final Zelda (so far) of this character review series is the most developed of them all, and probably has more character content to her in just one game than any of the others, and she has three to boot! With full voice acting (I'm JP voice only), a huge and personal role in the story, diary entries, notable relationships to multiple characters and being discussed by many NPCs there is a lot to talk about, but I'm mostly going off of memory and rewatching the cutscenes since it would be too much work to research every mention of her in all three games.

Design

(Ancient dress Zelda model from here)

Not going to copypaste my thoughts on her BotW look since this is long enough already.

It is a pity that Zelda didn't get a full redesign for TotK, but I'll take what I can get. The bob is really cute! And unusual among the Zeldas too, and I guess a nice way to represent that she has moved to the commoner lifestyle.

As for the ancient dress, it looks perfectly fine on its own, but since I value it when the designs have their own unique identity, I wish it wasn't so similar to her white dress from BotW. Maybe there is some connection, like Sonia used to be a priest so maybe the dress design survived through millennia as a prayer dress or whatever, but since that's not actually in the game, I'm not giving credit for that.

The bulkier and sort of unrefined jewelry does a good job making the outfit look ancient, but it's still fancy enough that I can believe it to belong to the royal family. That decorative accessory on the front of the dress is really cool looking and a nice and consistent detail among all the ancient clothes, but man is it a pain to draw. Finally I really like the big earrings and the tear makeup is a great little detail.

When I first saw the Light dragon in the final Zelda memory I thought it looked kind of doofy, with its bright colours, clumpy eyelashes, bulging eyes and borzoi nose, but it has since grown on me. I once read that some Pokemon designer said in an interview or such that if a Pokemon design looks too cool, they add something uncool to it to make it more memorable, and I think it's a pretty good design philosophy. There have been several LoZ designs that have shocked me at first, but eventually I get used to them and they will look just right. They could have given the dragons a more cool or elegant look, but that would have also risked making them more generic. Also the eyes give a good impression about Zelda's state that nobody is home there.

Character

This iteration of Zelda is easily the most fleshed out of them all, since we get to see so much of her relationships, character development, emotional reactions to plot events, and also stuff she does outside the immediate plot.

BotW Zelda's dread over the impending doom and the self esteem issues that rise from it are a large part of the story. There are other Zeldas who also worry about the Plot, but in BotW Zelda's case it's incredibly personal since her failure to do her crucial job in preventing the disaster is at the core of the story. According to Rhoam's diary, she had already internalised her duty at the age of six (and this caused her to not show any weakness even at her mother's funeral), and from there she spent her life trying and failing to awaken her powers. This lifelong crushing sense of responsibility and guilt and the failure to live up to her demanding father's expectations give BotW Zelda a very melancholic vibe that constantly pops up through the game. Though I must say that in the memory where the champions perform their little ceremony and Zelda gives a long speech to Link, her voice acting gets really awkward when it sounds like she's about to start crying with every word.

Once she finds her inner strength, Zelda gets her badass moments as well. I especially like the grand finale of BotW where she, glowing with power, calmly stands before Calamity Ganon's pig form and doesn't even flinch when he charges at her. And in the TotK flashback cutscenes she can apparently be taken to a battle against Ganondorf as a part of Rauru's sage posse.

I called out Skyward Sword Zelda for being a bit too much of an ideal girlfriend, so I'm really glad that the memory where BotW Zelda lashes out at Link exists. It works to prevent her from being just a pure maiden who is victimised by unfair outside circumstances. Or I mean that does happen to her, but letting her display some negative traits (like frustration and jealousy) that she's personally responsible for as well makes her feel more like an actual person and not just a perfect victim.

Even if BotW Zelda's heavy burden is a huge part of her character, luckily that's not all there is to her. And not just because being multifaceted of course makes her more interesting, but also I find it a lot more realistic that not every moment of her life had been constant suffering.

One of her most charming and notable traits is her nerdy scientist side. It certainly sets her apart from the other Zeldas, and also gives her something else to do than just worry about the plot and be a princess. The memory where she geeks over a frog and goes on such a ramble over its scientific properties that she forgets basic social norms is such a great piece of characterisation, and it's cute how her enthusiasm returns in TotK where she's excited over Zonai discoveries, and is also into Mineru's constructs. According to AoC, studying was also apparently something she did with her late mother as a child.

Her research notes also detail how together with Purah and Robbie they discovered various things about the ancient Sheikah tech, but I do think it's a little disappointing how we don't get much anything concrete about Zelda's contributions specifically. There's a lot about her being interested in the Sheikah technology and how she apparently was a part of research group, but all actual discoveries are attributed to different characters or left vague, so as a result she comes across more like an enthusiastic hobbyist who in the end doesn't actually get anywhere. I would have liked it if for example Purah's diary had a line of how Zelda's efforts helped them understand the Guardians better or something like that, but now you have to imagine her contributions yourself. The closest we get is how in AoC she gives one Sheikah artefact to Rhoam, which ends up saving his life, but it's not quite what I'm looking for since Zelda didn't know what the item would do, so it feels more like luck. But even if the execution didn't quite land, I'm glad that AoC took the time to give some kind of resolution to the Rhoam-forbids-Zelda-from-Studying aspect and has to admit that he was wrong. And regardless the Sheikah tech works well to give Zelda her unique identity, and it's also nice how two of her weapons in AoC are based on it.

BotW Zelda also has a playful side, like for example she runs up to play with a dog she just saw, or jokes with Urbosa about how they both had to act all formal in front of an audience despite being long time friends. She is also a very proactive character; thanks to the "find the memories" gameplay, we see her travel all across Hyrule instead of just sitting at her castle, she's the one to handle all business with the Divine Beast pilots (and since they're all high ranking individuals among their people, this makes Zelda pretty politically active as well), and BotW ends with her wanting to work on rebuilding Hyrule.

Zelda being active continues in TotK, where there's a lot of little snippets how she has founded a school, installed memorial monuments, managed survey teams, worked on gardens, and so on. And of course she also immediately volunteered for investigating the Gloom situation at the start of TotK as well, and from the stone tablets we can read how she also got into fiddling with Constructs and fashion in the ancient Hyrule. Obviously it would have been nice to actually see all of this instead of just reading or hearing it second hand, but I understand that not everything can get a fancy cutscene, so it's at least nice that this was included in the game at least in some fashion.

I touched on it in the part about her nerdy side, but let's also bring specific attention to the fact that BotW Zelda also has a delightfully weird and chaotic side to her. She tries to feed a frog to Link, and the TotK stone tablets tell about how she would ride Mineru's construct despite the protests of the chamberlain. And while the recipe she cooks in AoC is a legit BotW recipe, the way the scene is depicted clearly makes her come across as eccentric in her cooking.

AoC also casts her in a leadership role once her powers finally awaken and she becomes more confident. Honestly I prefer the insecure nerd Zelda over the charismatic leader because I don't think she quite has enough credibility to pull off rousing speeches to masses at this point of the story, but I guess it does make sense for the kind of story they're telling

Her powers are pretty inconsistent between games, BotW is obviously all about awakening her sacred sealing power, and the game ends with her saying that she used all that up. And then TotK reveals she had two different powers all along; Sonia's time power comes out of nowhere and Rauru's light power overlaps with her BotW ability a lot. But I can live with a discrepancy like this since I like the story of TotK.

Since I brought up how it's nice that Skyward Sword is implied to have a knitting hobby, I suppose it should be mentioned that BotW Zelda made the Champion's blue clothes and accessories. Though here it feels a lot less important and even a bit tacked on, since BotW Zelda already has so much going on that is more important and meaningful to her character. But I guess crafting clothes is princessy enough of a subject that Rhoam approves of spending time on it instead of prayer practice and even brags about it. A different little detail that I like more than this clothing thing is that we get to learn Zelda's favourite food (fruitcake).

In Japanese Zelda uses polite language, but no honorifics. I'm no Japanese expert, but to me this comes across as keeping a polite distance from everyone, while also implying status ("I'm a princess so I don't need to use a honorific for you"). Also in the beginning of AoC, Link (who at this point is just a random knight to Zelda) kneels in front of her and she doesn't even acknowledge him, so it appears she's pretty used to her standing. The stone tablets in TotK also describe her having an undeniable air of nobility.

[purpurea-lucensis]

about this ask meme!

I feel like it's a little hard to decide on a trademark for you, because for me there are two things that stand out equally.

On a 'vibe of your blog' angle; enthusiasm. You are so genuinely delighted about your OCs (as you ought! they slap!) and about other folks' OCs, and getting to take part in chatting w/other people in the community. It's infectious in the best way, it's lovely.

But similarly I can't help but consider your art style as you've developed it. It's distinctive in a way that evokes a very specific set of memories - when I took a fabric arts class in college and learned how to hand-carve stamps for printing designs on cloth. The shapes of the stamps our teacher made had this splendid stylization and energy, where you knew that these elegant curves with their weight and shape were carved from the material around them. Your art carries some of that same bold energy paired with precise command of lineweight.

tagging my sideblog @reckless-drivers-pack for vtm ask managementtt

oh man this is actually so sweet to hear wow honestly it took me a bit to process it

im honestly glad to hear that i come across as enthusiastic rather then overbearing about characters. they are my little blorbos from my mind, the children of my neurons, the little dolls i use to play toys with.

Honestly happy my enthusiasm ends up being contagious. People SHOULD be enthusiastic about their characters and i honestly love hearing people yap about their victories and woes and all the thoughts behind the character :3

Also wow that is such a vivid image for my art... thank you so so much...

My art is mainly inspired by vtm v1's core book (or at least part of it) but recently ive started expanding a bit to include newsprints ads and comics from the 50's (i recently gifted a friend a collection of original newspapers from 1955, so i got quite the amount of references) but also there is definitely some influence from pyrography art, which is something i studied for a couple years in middle school, at a summer camp.

If you know anything about pyrography you know that it works pretty similarly to carved-stamps so i can definitely see the association (although pyrography works by removing/burning material where you want the lines rather then carving around them)

Also honestly that is such a big compliment for me i dont really know how to respond magsnsg

Thank you so so much

[unabashegirl]

Lycan 5 — werewolf

Y/N returns to her hometown, Alsfield, when her father falls ill, only to discover the town hides a dark secret—one protected by the mysterious Harry Styles. As Y/N unravels the town's mysteries, her plans to return to San Francisco are derailed.

— all chapters of LYCAN —

check out my patreon (starting at $2) and get full access to all chapters, various one shots like The Cover and much more :)

warnings: mentions of abuse physical and mental.

words: 1.3K

She feared her father ever since she was a little girl. He was a scary man. Everything from the tone of his voice or the way that his face would contort when he was angry. Y/N had never been able to relate to the memories that most people had of their fathers. He frightened her to the core.

He sat up straight with his back resting against the headboard of the hospital. He looked just like the day she had left. His hair was long and still looked very scruffy. She was surprised to see him, so healthy. She had expected to find him attached to all different types of machines and probably on a ventilator, but he wasn’t. He looked very healthy to her.

”Who called you” were the first words out of his mouth. She could sense the contempt in his voice. She closed the door behind her and walked toward the feet of his bed.

"Your sister” She distastefully said as she took her coat off and purse and placed them on the chair for visitors. Her aunt wasn't the best person to hear from. Y/N had begged her aunt for years to allowed her to move in with her and her family. She never cared to see her crying or frantically running around in town trying to meet the demands of her father. “Said you were dying”.

“That’s why you are here? Because I am dying?” He laughed heartlessly, “let me just safe you some time. You aren’t mentioned in my will. You’ll get nothing. Goodbye”.

“I don’t want anything” Y/N crossed her arms across her chest and took a few more steps away from him. She felt like yelling. She felt like crying. His comment had made her blood boil. She looked out the window and noticed the same woods that had scared her the night before. They suddenly didn’t seem like a bad place to escape to.  “There is not much to give either” She giggled, referring to the large amounts of money that her father had wasted away in booze.

Y/N’s father no longer worked. He had been laid off after he had been caught very drunk during office hours. When Y/N’s mom had passed away, she had left a sum of money designated only with the purpose of helping to educated their daughter. Money that her father had used to get drunk.

“What? You now think you are better than us because you studied in some big, fancy college and live outside of town?” Robert laughed, “You are still the same useless and good for nothing girl that left this town. I am surprised that you haven’t been laid off. I thought you were here for money”.

“You think I want to be here?” Y/N asked him as she looked outside, purposely standing the farthest away from her father. Just in case, he decided to run up to her.

“You think I want to have you here?” He asked back. She was used to it. Y/N was accustomed to being put down by her father. She was used to his derogatory comments and wasn’t surprised.

“You think I want to drop everything that I have built for myself just to come see you?” She spat as her eyes finally met with his. “You have managed to pushed away anyone that has ever cared for you. I am the last person that you have left, and I hate it” Y/N cried, “I just thought that you didn’t want to die alone. But I guess you do”

Y/N grabbed her coat and yanked it on without saying a single word to Robert. It was obviously a big mistake to come see him. She regretted ever getting on the bus and picking up the phone that day. She grabbed her pursed and just as she was about to turn to leave. She noticed a man standing in the woods, staring up at her. She couldn’t tell who he was or recognized him because of the distance.

“Yeah. Go! Run away! That’s the only good thing you are good at! Just make sure this time to stay away!” He yelled as she shut the door behind him.

“Goodbye” She said to Robert and left the room without turning back once. However, she always had a slight amount of hope that her father would stop her from leaving and would apologize. Y/N sat down in the waiting room. She didn’t have the heart to leave him. She wasn’t him. But even though, Y/N could tell that he was watching her, she wasn’t fearful.

Y/N could see from the corner of her eye the nurses whispering and stealing glances. She could tell that they were speaking about her.  She settled down on the most comfortable and convenient chair in the room. She pulled her laptop out and indulged herself in work. Y/N waited outside for the majority of the day, and she would also get periodically updated by the doctors

She left the hospital around five in the afternoon. Y/N was starving and even though the coffees from the cafeteria were decent, she felt like she hadn’t eaten in days. She threw her bag in the car, and waited a bit to digest her emotions before getting on the road.

“Long day?” A raspy and manly voice startled her.

“You could say that” It was Harry walking towards her with a big toothy smile. He was wearing the same outfit as in the morning, but had changed into construction boots and his clothes were now dirty, “What are you doing here?” She asked him. She crossed her arms and took a step away from him. She was intimidated by his heavy and intense stare.  Y/N found him incredibly attractive. He was definitely out of her league, yet she couldn’t shake off the feeling of wanting to be close to him.

“The hospital is getting a new wing, and we were just looking over some constructions blueprints” He explained, he had been solving problems all day long. Harry was exhausted and couldn’t wait for the end. “How is Robert?”

“Fine” Y/N dryly responded, Harry could tell that his question had bothered her.

“Where are you heading now?”

“I was planning on having dinner with the Brown’s, but I guess it’s too early” She looked down at her phone. It was five-fifteen, which only meant that Mrs. Brown’s shift still haven’t ended.

“Wonderful. That’s means you have some time to kill. Let’s go get some coffee and a walk” He leaned off the car and started to walk towards his car.

“What?” She laughed lightly, “We don’t even know each other that well! I am not getting in a car with you!”

“But I am the mayor of the town. How bad can I be? People elected me” He pointed out with his lips slightly curved upwards as he walked back to her.

“So?” She crossed her arms, “You aren’t my mayor” Harry laughed and very intrigued where the conversation was heading.

“Ouch. That one hurt” He pressed his hand to his heart and winced dramatically. Y/N laughed and rolled her eyes at him. “Come on! I promise you won’t regret it”. He stretched out his hand out for her to take. 

She looked at him and then back to his stretched out hand. Every fiber in her, screamed to her to get back into her car. She didn't know anything about him! They had met less than twenty-four hours ago. He could be a creep. However, Y/N always played by the book. She never did anything outside of her comfort zone. 

Y/N always did what was right. 

TAGLIST: @harryssky1, @jerseygirlinca, @daphnesutton

next ---> chapter 6

[subiysu-chan]

Icy Moodboard, actual core elements (I will be searching for extra clients)

I really don't know what direction I want for art style as I like anime and semi-realism equally. I want a soft water color palette with gradiant hair, but also exaggerated chunky eyelashes and somewhat visible lips if I go the anime route. If I go a more detailed artstyle, I think blending the style of Sakamoto-sensei with a little bit of Consuelo-Parra and maybe even a little trace of Mad Carrot's style could work and with help of many Pinterest tutorials. Sakamoto-sensei really likes drawing some glossy lips, and I kind of want them for this redesign and I will get to practice drawing more detailed lips. In both cases, I would want fine lines and colored in eyelashes matching the hair color.

Let's refresh our memory of how she looks like.

But I know which expression I want to give her. I think this is the ideal expression, but her expression slightly angrier and looking straight on to make her more intimidating. So high arched eyebrows, chin up, half closed eyes and a somewhat perched lip, with maybe a hint of a smile.

Keeping her face as symetrical as possible while giving it small life-like irregularities.

Another feature I want to add is very intense dark circles...So, for my rewright, Icy will also be from Domino, and the Domino people do have ethnic features of having darkened eyelids and intense dark circles. Besides, it will allow her pale eyelashes a fighting chance at standing out against her pale skin.

Now, if I want it a character sheet proper, I want to give her two outfits. Her civilian form and her witch form...I want to give Icy a very cute baby face that she kind of compensates for, since she is the leader of the group so...

For her civilian form, I want to create quite the unique cardigan. I would imagine Icy having quite the unique one. I want it form fitting, but having a long lower half reaching her calves.

This will be her shoes:

Now, for her hairstyle, I want to tone it down whilst keeping it super long, either a supported high pony tail or a low wrapped ponytail, and the curls could be either baby flyaway hairs or full side burns delicately cut and floofed, or something in between. I will explore various shades of ice blond, white and rice white gray before deciding, and I will also make her eyebrows and eyelashes match this color.

She will be wearing hydrating lipgloss, probably similar to what the ASMR youtuber and buisness woman Rose, also known as K1ttencake and her very pale, glittery lip gloss, it has the perfect finish for what I actually want for Icy's look.

In terms of skirt, for this redesign, I want the climate surrounding Alfea to be quite oceanic, cool and rainy and the characters should dress accordingly. Icy would also been born and raised in Northern Eraklyon, which I would imagine as having a climate similar to that found around the Northern part of the Permian Oblast, so pretty cold and dry, or even full on sub-tundra. But...She doesn't care about Ice and Snow, it's her element. Plus, she's raised by nobility in my rewright, and for the sake of sane worldbuilding, Diamond would be a province of Eraklyon. Now, I want it to have belt loops, so we can have a bejewled belt.

I could find a way to fit stones into this design...

She would have a fairly simple dark blue chocker with this design:

Her inner top would be a blue tank top that would be barely visible.

In her witch form, her outfit is sleeker and darker, quite gothic with heavy eye makeup.

Now, with the Magical Girl outfits, I decided to do some history bounding, but with Icy...She also has quite the manicure...But, again...My art direction is more "old fashioned". In all of her transformed forms, her lower half is clad in something long, be it leggins or skirt.

[thecourtscorkboard]

The Lost Turnabout (2-1)

Phoenix Wright is called to defend a police officer in her boyfriend's murder. There's just one problem: he's lost his memory!

Welcome to Justice for All! We start off with The Lost Turnabout, involving the murder of a police officer, a proactive defendant, and a head injury resulting in amnesia. Will we remember this case's glory, or will we forget all about it when 2-2 rolls around? Let's take a look!

THE CORE CAST:

Phoenix Wright: Phoenix emerges from semi-retirement; what could've caused him to hide his face after SL-9, though?

Winston Payne: Winston returns as the prosecutor for this case, just as screechy as ever.

Maya Fey: Maya briefly returns as our co-counsel later in the case. A spiritual medium in training, she hasn't changed a bit!

THE MAIN CAST:

Maggey Byrde: A rather unlucky police officer and the defendant for this case.

Richard Wellington: The man, the myth, the Richard Wellington. I quite enjoy his design.

A BRIEF RECAP

Phoenix is facing off against a giant His Honor, trying to plead for his life before being hit on the head with a giant gavel! We wake up; apparently we had an awful dream due to a new ringtone. There's somebody lurking around the corner, and just as we're getting ready... we're hit on the head with a fire extinguisher! Yeowch!

"Knew I drank too much last night..."

Trial, Day One

We get come back to our senses and are met with a police officer. This is Maggey Byrde, one of my personal favorite recurring characters in the series! The fire extinguisher we got hit on the head with has really messed us up, though: we've lost our memory! Great.

So it wasn't the sangria...

We enter the courtroom entirely unprepared. After a bit of dialogue where Phoenix very clearly is having problems but nobody really cares, Gumshoe is called to the stand; we also get a picture of the victim, Dustin Prince (who was Maggey's boyfriend at the time). Apparently, Maggey works under Gumshoe: so much for conflict of interest. Gumshoe testifies about the investigation—the victim even managed to write Maggie's name in the sand. Well, there's our first contradiction: her name is 'Maggey', not 'Maggie'. It looks like muscle memory is hard at work, as we point our figure without really realizing it: but we're starting to get back into the groove, pointing out the contradiction and getting a new testimony.

We get a new testimony from Gumshoe after His Honor asks if Dustin and Maggey really were lovers. There's some funny implications about Gumshoe's crush on Maggey here, even if the topic is sore given Dustin's death. Anyways, we press and press and press, eventually coming to the topic of a custom-made yellow baseball glove. Gumshoe presents it to the court; Maggey is about to tell us that she had to special order it for another reason, but we move on. The question is now raised: did the victim really write 'Maggie'?

Gumshoe testifies that there was sand underneath his fingernail and scratches on the nail itself leading to the conclusion that Dustin did, indeed, write the name 'Maggie'. There's just one issue with that: he wrote it with his right hand and the baseball glove that Maggey ordered goes on the right hand. It's a left-handed glove! There's no possible way that Dustin could have written the name 'Maggie'. Ergo, somebody else wrote it! Maggey seems to be exonerated, but Payne objects. He says that they've still got a witness! Court is called for a brief recess.

During the recess, we tell Maggey about our... condition. She offers to kick us in the head, we decline, and she gives us back our business card. Swell. She also tells us about an incident with a cell phone: she and Dustin had found somebody's phone and called them. Whoever was on the phone thanked her and she ended the call by telling them her name was Maggey... pronounced 'Maggie'. I wonder if this is our mysterious writer.

As we're getting ready to go back inside, guess who shows up!

MAYA!!!!!!

We don't know who Maya is, but we do get a list from her; con artists connected to the cell phone. This mysterious phone caller is starting to look more and more like our killer author! Maya makes a subtle insinuation that we're suffering from early-onset dementia before we go back into the courtroom. Time to meet this mysterious witness.

We get Maya back as our co-counsel and Payne introduces this witness as a 'drifter'. The drifter gets rather tilted about it, and good God does he like to rant. This is Richard Wellington (Dick Wellington, and a gumshoe is a wellington boot; "Dick Gumshoe", get it? I like this name a lot!), our assaulter and this case's ultimate witness. He must be our murderer!

With a Ph.D. in Twinking, as it were.

Wellington testifies that he saw Maggey after Dustin fell from a height right in front of him alongside a bundle of bananas. Very short and decisive. We already know, of course, that there weren't any bananas. There was a yellow baseball glove that would look like bananas if he was missing his glasses! We're already on the hyper-offense with this guy. If he was missing his glasses, then there's no way he could've identified Maggey. Wellington testifies again, saying that he immediately called the police station at 6:45... just over 15 minutes after Dustin died. We press him for an excuse; he says he was looking for a phone booth since he didn't have a phone.

So he did lose his phone!

It seems that he does have his phone on him, though. But why would he need to find a phone booth?! There's one right next to the body! What was he doing during those 15 minutes? Looking for his glasses... which were under the victim's body! As he fell, Dustin grabbed his killer's glasses. That's what Wellington was looking for! He's the real killer!

Wellington argues that since he doesn't know who Maggey is, he couldn't have written her name wrong or not! We know for a fact that he knew her name. After all, Maggey found his cell phone! We tell the court this information. He would know her name was pronounced 'Maggie' if he only heard it, and since that's the more popular spelling... well, baby makes two!

Payne argues that we have no motive. We know for a fact he has one, though: remember that name list? It's a list of con artists... and it was in the memory of Wellington's phone! That's why he had to kill Dustin; he was a police officer with a con artist's phone! He panicked. He thought that Dustin might run a check on his phone... or already had! Dustin laughs. There's no proof that this is his phone, is it?!

We want to check for fingerprints, but apparently we wiped it off because of the sand all over it. Wellington says that he has his phone right there, but it "glitched" and "all the numbers disappeared". He also asks us where he found his phone. When he assaulted us! He cockily tells us that we've forgotten who we are.

Who we are...?

Wait.

We have the same model of phone! What if he mixed up the phones? We present our business card to the court and tell Maya to call us.

The good news is that this establishes Maggey's innocence. The bad news is that this sets off an IED, killing everybody in Courtroom No. 8. Too bad!

Wellington is holding on to our phone. He strangles himself to near-death: earning us an acquittal for Maggey. In the aftermath of the trial, Maggey is rather distraught, blaming herself for Dustin's death. After all, her life has been a whirlwind of bad luck. Since she was 6 months old, when she fell from the 9th floor of my apartment building, she's been hit by all sorts of vehicles, gotten sick from all sorts of foods, failed at almost every test she's ever taken, experienced almost every kind of disaster, and never won or even tied at a game of tic-tac-toe! Her misfortune tends to latch on the people around her, she says. She swears to turn her life back around, though! Despite her grief, she leaves with a smile on her face, and 2-1 comes to a close.

What Really Happened?

Richard Wellington was a member of a gang of confidence artists. Maggey and Dustin found his phone, which he had lost, and were going to give it back to him. As they were, though, he saw that Dustin was a police officer. Panicking out of fear that they had searched his phone, he pushed Dustin off of the bridge they were standing on and stole back his phone. He then decided to frame Maggey, whose name he had heard over the phone, by writing her name in the sand.

THOUGHTS

I went into this remembering that I downright hated 2-1. I was pleasantly surprised at how much I actually enjoyed it; I still don't think it's very good, but it's better than I remembered.

To start with the bad, the amnesiac gimmick overstays its welcome very quickly. This is one of the only cases in the entire franchise that actively makes me cringe at times. When I first watched through PixelPartners's lets play, I actually skipped it. That's honestly the biggest issue with this case: the amnesiac gimmick is incredibly tiring, although I do like the subtle ways it rears its head like Phoenix forgetting he wiped Maggey's phone off. I think a better way to have done this case as a tutorial instead of a somewhat groan-inducing amnesia plotline was to have Maggey actually be a legal aide, like her dialogue says she could've been. That would've been fun, seeing Phoenix be a teacher two games early!

I appreciate the spike in difficulty compared to 1-1, but it's still pretty simple: one thing I think is really cool, though, is the fact that you have to point out that the baseball glove is left-handed by actually looking at the picture of it. Maggey is always a treat, and I like Maya's surprise appearance! Payne is also a welcome addition whenever he pops up.

For his part, I don't like Beef- er, Richard Wellington very much. He doesn't have a lot of character or charisma, lacking a lot of the staying power that Frank Sawhit has. The catch with the switched cell phones is also pretty easy to see coming in my opinion.

Generally, this case is rather lackluster, even if it's much better than I remember it being. Just two days ago, when writing the initial draft for this review, I said that I loathed 2-1 and considered it one of the worst in the entire series. I still think it's the weakest opening case, but that's definitely not for lack of trying. It does what it does well, but has a few more obvious issues compared to other openers.

Next time, we'll cover 2-2: Reunion, and Turnabout. See you guys then!

Final Rating: 4/10

FAVORITE LINES

(Nowhere to hide... I'm sooo dead...) - Phoenix Wright, after Gumshoe is called to the stand

"Oh my go-- NOW I REMEMBER!!" - Phoenix Wright, after Wellington reminds us where he found his phone

"Take that!" "Why, thank you. Here, please have one of mine." - Phoenix Wright and His Honor, exchanging business cards

CASE RANKINGS

The Lost Turnabout (4/10)

[bitchinbarzal]

Maisie and Jules def get “married” when they re little. Morgan and Singer go all out.

It started with a ring pop.

Maisie came home from the park grinning so wide her missing front teeth were on full display.

“Jules proposed,” she announced to Morgan. “I said yes.”

Morgan blinked. “I’m sorry—he what?”

Maisie held up her sticky fingers. “It was blue raspberry.”

That night, Morgan texted Singer:

your son asked my daughter to marry him.

I’m making a dress.

Singer:

I’ll start rehearsing my song.

By the end of the week, Morgan’s backyard was transformed into a full-blown mini-wedding venue.

It wasn’t a pretend wedding.

Not with Morgan designing and sewing Maisie a custom white tulle dress with delicate pearl beading stitched across the neckline.

Not with Singer planning an acoustic performance of Maisie and Jules’ favorite Disney love song.

And definitely not with five Meier kids and all the cousins playing their roles like it was a Broadway production.

The wedding party lineup:

• Maisie: glowing bride

• Jules: very serious groom

• Brynn, Benny & Bea: flower girls, tossing glittery

petals with competitive energy

• Maverick & Lincoln: chaotic ring bearers

• Lio, Oliver, and Noah: self-declared ushers, snack table managers, and bodyguards (“in case bad guys come”)

Morgan couldn’t stop smiling as she zipped Maisie into the dress she’d stayed up half the night finishing.

“You look beautiful,” she whispered.

Maisie twirled in the mirror, then froze. “Do I look like a real bride?”

Morgan crouched down, eyes warm. “Even better, baby. You look like you.”

Out in the yard, Jake was doing his best not to laugh as Timo tried to help Jules fix his crooked bowtie.

“I want to look nice,” Jules insisted, “but not too nice.”

Jake raised a brow. “Why?”

“So she doesn’t think I’m trying too hard.”

Jake had to turn around to hide his grin.

As guests (immediate family and neighbors roped into attendance) took their seats on picnic blankets, Singer stepped up with a mic in hand, barefoot and radiant, strumming soft chords on her guitar.

“Today,” she said, “my firstborn son marries the girl who’s stolen every last crayon in our house.”

Everyone laughed.

Then Singer began to sing, her voice soft and golden, floating through the air as Maisie walked down the aisle.

Morgan wiped her eyes.

Jake leaned in and whispered, “It’s a good thing we’re already married, because I’d propose to you again just watching this.”

Morgan reached for his hand, lips trembling with a smile.

Timo, naturally, officiated—standing between the kids, wearing a blazer over a Devils hoodie.

“Maisie,” he began, crouching slightly, “do you promise to always let Jules pick the music in the car and share your gummy bears?”

Maisie nodded, smiling wide. “Even the red ones.”

There was a collective gasp. That was love.

Timo turned to Jules. “Jules, do you promise to always let Maisie win when you race on scooters and never color on her drawings again?”

Jules looked nervous. Then nodded. “I promise.”

“Then by the power vested in me by preschool politics and backyard chaos—”

“—You may now do the secret handshake!” everyone shouted.

Maisie and Jules broke into their choreographed hand-slapping, spinning, fist-bumping handshake that ended with a high five and a hug.

The yard erupted in cheers.

Singer started singing again. The Meier boys launched confetti. Logan and Marley ran wild.

And in the middle of it all, Maisie and Jules stood hand in hand, beaming.

Later, as things settled, and the kids were eating frosting straight off the snack-cake tower, Morgan sat beside Singer under the twinkle lights.

“You realize we just created their core childhood memory, right?”

Singer smiled. “We just gave them their origin story.”

Timo passed them both glasses of wine. “And Jules told me he’s not marrying anyone else ever, so.”

Morgan laughed. “Maisie said the same thing.”

Jake, from across the yard, called out, “We doing this again in twenty years, or what?”

Singer grinned. “Absolutely. But with a real cake next time.”

And Morgan? She looked out at their wild, glitter-covered kids and their ridiculous, perfect little wedding and her heart felt full.

Because someday, they’d grow up.

Someday, they’d forget the secret handshake and the flower crowns.

This would be the kind of memory they held onto forever.

Just like each other.

[auburniivenus]

But it’s nice to be around you. Like I haven’t lost centuries of my life.

In   the   glorious   coronary   artery   of   Baldur's   Gate,   where   the   cobblestones   utter   tales   of   yesteryear   beneath   the   ceaseless   cadence   of   modernity,   lies   Serenity   Park—a   sanctum   of   compassion,   an   enclave   where   the   very   essence   of   serenity   and   intricate   aesthetic   merge   in   an   incorruptible   embrace.   This   verdurous   refuge   stands   in   stark   contrast   to   the   city's   resilient   dynamism,   a   testimonial   to   the   blissful   coexistence   of   nature's   majestic   splendor   and   the   lure   of   hexcraft.

Upon   stepping   through   the   lavish   wrought-iron   gates,   visitors   find   themselves   nestled   within   a   vivid   mosaic   of   chromatic   grandeur.   The   emerald   embrace   of   the   grass   beneath   one's   feet   stretches   far   and   wide,   periodically   adorned   with   beds   of   blooms   radiating   fiery   reds,   regal   purples,   and   incandescent   yellows—a   carnival   of   nuances   that   stimulates   the   senses.   Towering   sentinels,   ancient   trees   whose   boughs   dance   a   slow   ballet   in   the   gentle   breeze,   cast   a   dense   canopy   above.   At   the   very   core   of   this   botanical   paradise,   a   fountain   sculpted   from   stones   that   have   drunk   deeply   of   enchantment   stands   as   a   monument   to   the   phantastical.   Dragons   and   fae,   sculpted   with   magnificent   care,   seem   almost   to   stir   beneath   the   cascade   of   crystal-clear   waters   that   leap   and   frolic, scattering   prismatic   droplets   into   the   sunbeam’s   tender   caress.

The   aural   panorama   weaves   a   hypnosis   of   serenity—a   work   of   art   composed   of   the   fountain’s   soothing   murmurs,   the   sussurant   rustle   of   leaf   upon   leaf,   and   the   distant,   graceful   calls   of   avian   serenaders.   Intermittently,   the   air   is   filled   with   the   effervescent   laughter   of   children   at   play   or   the   dulcet   tones   of   a   bard’s   lute.   A   bouquet   of   floral   fragrances   melds   with   the   petrichor   of   rain-kissed   earth   and   the   luxuriant   breath   of   grass, crafting   an   aromatic   panorama   as   complex   and   nuanced   as   the   city   itself.   After   a   downpour,   these   scents   burgeon,   accompanied   by   the   mineral   scent   of   ancient   stones   and   paths   that   bear   the   memory   of   countless   sojourns.   Fountain’s   cool   mist   juxtaposes   the   sun’s   warm   caresses,   a   sensory   contrast   that   revitalizes   both   body   and   spirit.   Polished   smoothness   of   stone   benches,   designed   for   moments   of   introspection   or   quiet   camaraderie,   mixes   with   the   textured   tales   told   by   the   bark   of   each   tree,   urging   visitors   to   connect   and   ground   themselves   in   the   omnipresent   now.

“Your   words   mean   the   world   to   me.”   Her   hues   hold   a   soft   glimmer   of   adoration.   “Despite   the   centuries   that   separate   us,   being   with   you   feels   like   home.   It's   a   feeling   I   haven't   experienced   in   a   long   time.”   The   curve   of   her   lips   forms   a   gentle   arc,   akin   to   the   crescent   moon   gracing   the   nocturnal   firmament.   The   age   discrepancy   between   them   has   never   been   a   probleme.   Despite   being   immortal,   in   human   years,   he   is   still   somewhat   older   than   her.   Perhaps   she   has   a   tendency   to   like   older   men.   She   reached   out,   lacing   her   fingers   with   his,   sensing   the   marble-velvet   texture   of   his   dermis.   “I’m   glad   I   can   make   you   happy.”   Her   smile,   intense   as   a   kiss.

@estarion

[scooby-review]

The Scooby Doo Show Season 2 Episodes 5-8

5. The Spooky Case of the Grand Prix Race

This episode follows the gang heading to watch a race, however as they’re watching, a phantom racer appears on the track, a fog engulfing both him and another driver. 

I know a lot of people really enjoy racing, and I can’t pretend to, nor to know much of anything about cars, but I will try my best to discuss this episode the best I can regardless!

For me, the stand out of this episode is the Phantom Racer, a chalky white ghoulish figure, he has the standard crimson eyes to denote his evil intentions, his face is fairly standard monster work, a style of ghoul crafting that I often like - the slender, chiselled face, large smile, manic laughter… Alongside this, he of course wears a distinct lapis racing suit, there are subtle flames embellished onto the design, yet the two toned design doesn’t draw too much attention to this, and the decision to craft a blue racer as opposed to a red one, alluding closer to the flames and power that comes with them, I think there’s a more relaxed tone to the character, it allows for his eyes to pop more and juxtaposes his maniacal face. I think this works greatly to build up a unique and striking design. 

Throughout, we see an effect where fog rolls across the race course, the car pursues closely behind, before both the phantom and the regular driver are submerged in the fog entirely, seemingly consumed when they fail to emerge. I love how they play with this concept, having Shaggy be a driver and get captured, it’s such a unique way of furthering the plot and building upon this curious idea, it builds so much intrigue, it’s spooky to its core, and this is furthered all the more when Shaggy doesn’t escape the fog, he’s grabbed, disappearing too. Placing our protagonists directly in the line of the villain is always a fun trope in Scooby! 

Weirdly, I have a very faint memory specifically of when Shaggy is trapped behind a brick wall that the phantom is attempting to lay, but nothing else about this episode really stuck out in my mind. 

I think this is a fairly well paced episode, and I always enjoy a slight shift in the group dynamics; having Velma and Scooby paired up for a while during Shaggy’s capture, it’s fun! I wish they’d play around with the dynamics more often, there’s a rigidity to the way they write these episodes that could so easily be crushed if they simply mix up the characters a little! 

Also there’s a classic gag in here of Scooby and Shaggy going through one door and escaping through another, but I adore how stupid it is here, because the duo enter through one door of the car, and escape through another, however, not the main doors of the car, they slip into the glove boxes, bonnets, any weird doors they pop their heads out of, and it’s great. 

Overall, this is a fun episode! I wish they pushed the concept a little further at times, once they rescue Shaggy the episode feels a little stunted, but I still had a great time!

6. The Ozark Witch Switch

This episode is a lot of fun if only for the grim aesthetic, grungy swamps and buildings, everything is darkly lit, there are witches and cats, weird and beautiful cabins, I adore this stuff!

We follow the gang as the Mystery Machine breaks down, all four tires suddenly burst, and as such, they wander to a nearby cabin asking to sleep through the storm. However, once the family puts them up for the night, they wake to find them all frogs. 

Looking at this episode at face value, it sounds incredibly similar to the Where are You? episode, Which Witch is Which? However, I think this is a great demonstration of how this series differs itself from the original series. 

In that episode, we see the gang returning from a fishing trip, only to bump into the witch and zombie; the witch is a sand green, her costume comprised of a mauve gown and pointed hat, meanwhile, the zombie is a withering green shade, his clothes raggedy but incredibly human in spite of his elvish ears and ghoulish face. Both these characters paint caricatures of their tropes, they take almost exactly what one would expect if told to envision a witch or zombie, and they craft these designs well. 

In contrast, the Ozark Witch has withering skin, it’s wrinkled and pushed to the bone, she has an almost greyish tone to her flesh which suggests an almost rotting state, her greying hair only aids this image of a person pushed beyond the limits of age, a witch propping herself up on deaths door with magic. Yet she maintains the purple clothing, here a gown and tattered scarf, the colour often connotes to magic and power. This design alone is a far scarier image of a witch, more folklore  than fairy tale. Both work great, but there’s a clear divide between these eras in how they make their villains, and I think it shows the strengths of both! Neither one of these is inherently better than another, but they take on different styles of the same trope, creating wildly different villains. 

With that in mind, this zombie is less of an interesting design, it goes against the design philosophy I previously discussed, he is certainly a more “human” take on a zombie, he’s almost entirely human save for his bloodshot eyes, and instead of design, we see his more rigid movements as a mark of his zombie-like state. He’s entirely secondary to the Witch. 

As mentioned previously, the atmosphere in this episode is delicious, the swamp is a beautiful setting, grungy greens and blacks matched with strikingly gloomy yellows. I adore the cabins and the fun cast of characters we are introduced to - at one point Shaggy and Scooby break into a cabin because they see a phone. Presumably, it takes place in the titular Ozarks, which are a highland region in the United States. 

It’s a typical style of plot for the series - have the characters move from location to location, unveiling a clue or two until they see it fit to capture the monsters - but it works well when I enjoy the locations, chases and gags. 

Another thing I enjoy in Scooby is when the villain tries to kill the gang, and oh my does the zombie knock the pathway across a ravine from beneath Shaggy, Scooby and Velma's feet, plummeting them to a near certain death. To mention another joke I like, there's a scene of this trio sneaking around, and Shaggy and Scooby keep transforming into the shape of the objects they position themselves behind - it reminded me of Undertale, and I found it funny. 

I had a great little time with this episode! It’s a really fun time, they push the ending on a little too long for my liking, it feels clear that they ran out of story but still had a handful of minutes left on the clock so they just made the gang stand around with the family (now not frogs) but there’s a stupid joke about chicken bones coming to life which I had a good time with, so I guess I can’t complain too much. 

7. Creepy Cruise

This episode feels fairly unique in the way it uses its monster, with an emphasis on fairly. We follow the gang as they head on a cruise, learning that the boat is being used to showcase a time machine to a series of investors. Yet as they watch on in awe, a creature from the future suddenly bursts from the machine, running awry. 

The Futuristic Monster is an anthropomorphic, mantis-like creature, to me, it embodies the sci-fi trope of “bug eyed monsters”, with early descriptions of aliens in this genre having grotesquely large eyes, bulging from their faces. Here the creature uses a blend of soft pinkish reds and yellows, all properly and perfectly segmented across his body, it makes the colourful design stand out against the gloomier backgrounds and more grounded and cohesive designs of the humans around them. 

Alluding back to the bug eyed monster trope, the monsters would often have a lust for women in particular, they would seek them out to abduct, sometimes as a source of humanity, other times to allow a male hero to swoop in and save the damsel. It’s not too dissimilar from older tired tropes of princesses being captured by dragons, story beats that if done now, come off clunky and lazy, but that craft a staple of early literature. Here, the investors money is the abductee, the alien snatches it from their grasp, and it’s up to the gang to draw the creature back from the time machine to return that which has been stolen. In this sense, it’s a subversion of a trope that is otherwise laced in misogyny and reduces female characters to objects that must be saved. This takes a far more literal approach to the idea, and I think it works great. 

Moving beat by beat with the episode, the monster isn’t around as much as one would expect, but slightly more than I would like. They attempt to craft a distance between the heroes and the monster, they play with the show's structure to bring the monster from the machine, have him run around and terrorise the crew, before plucking the case of money from the investors hands, disappearing back into the “future”. It’s great! The gang then places Shaggy in the costume, allowing him to chase after the creators of the time machine to learn where they hid the money, it’s a lot of fun! I think the episode only really suffers from that middle section feeling slightly more drawn out, and a little bland when faced with the rest of the episode's subversions and ideas. 

Also, there’s some really funny dialogue that made me think of a detective game, you stand around with characters dismissing the professor's machine, before noticing that it works - the dialogue presents very paper thin characters that work perfectly in this type of show! 

Cruises as a setting are always fun to me too! I can’t not think of Triangle or Ghost Ship when it comes to settings on a cruise. I feel like they draw out such a fun sense of isolation, there’s nowhere to run, this boat is nothing against the ocean below. There’s a gorgeous shot of the boat under the moonlight - I love it!

8. The Creepy Heap from the Deep

While having a beach party, the gang are soon chased by a creepy heap (from the deep). 

I don’t have too much to say about this episode, it’s totally fine, but it didn’t offer loads for me personally! Although there’s a shark I like at one point, so that’s fun! 

The titular monster doesn’t really work too well for me, its design doesn’t work for me for the exact reasons the future monster did. Here we see a uniquely shaped creature, it’s an amphibian by design, matched with its pair of legs and long tail, it has claws and a single eye, its feet are webbed and its hair is formed from seaweed (I think). These clashings in colour - the soft yellows with the more saturated greens - doesn’t work too nicely, but I can’t quite tell why the creature is made to look the way it does. Maybe there is a purpose, but nothing jumps out to me, it feels designed to be somewhat grotesque, its lips large and curled into a frown, but there’s very little that endears me to this creature, not its personality, design, nothing really. He’s fine, but I can’t quite love this guy! 

The other monster of this episode is the Soulless Captain Clements. This design takes the original look for the captain and simply alters his face, his skin grows greyer, his hair a stark and snowy white in contrast to the more ashy grey prior to his transformation, but what stands out the most are his large bulging eyes in contrast to the usual Hanna Barbera face style. Again, this design is fine, there’s not too much that draws me towards it though! 

Otherwise, I simply found this to be a fairly unremarkable episode, it’s not bad, merely forgettable! There’s this really weird transition at one point where the scene swirls, and that made me laugh, because I don’t think this has ever been used in Scooby before, but otherwise my notes are fairly barren. 

That rounds out season two of The Scooby Doo Show! While I definitely believe it to be weaker than the first, I think a lot of that is virtue of how much shorter it is than the first season, even one episode that’s subpar goes on to stand out far more than one or two would have in the first season. 

With this in mind, I think season two continues to keep the high quality of the episodes prior to it. I think an episode like Vampire Bats and Scaredy Cats shines out amidst the rest, it’s just so much fun and one of my favourites of all time for sure! However lows such as The Chiller Diller Movie Thriller are far worse than anything seen in the first season, it’s a fairly bland and uncomfortable episode that is a sour send off to Scooby Dum. Otherwise, I think there is a high consistency to the quality of these episodes, 

I’ll keep my ranking until the end of season three, but I think that there is a feeling like the series isn’t really moving anywhere. An episode like Creepy Cruise manages to take on a new twist to the Scooby formula, but I understand the complaints of how formulaic the show can be. The New Scooby Doo Movies shook things up but never truly felt like it could build its own identity, and The Scooby Doo Show feels like it has fallen back onto what worked so well about Where are You? and this works perfectly, it’s a great expansion on the original show, but there’s definitely a creative stagnancy in some regards. While there are stylistic differences, I imagine these didn’t stick out to the masses, rather, this was just more Scooby Doo, and that makes sense given the Scooby Doo Show umbrella wasn’t added until after the series had finished airing, it became a way to group this block of episodes that were otherwise just pieces of airing blocks, they lack much identity beyond being more of the same, a great same, but the same nevertheless. 

I mention this in particular because, while it doesn’t bother me - I’m still having a great time - it will grow into a problem contextually for the direction of the show post season three. They have built this great formula, and most of the time, they can nail this formula, but the best episodes are when they can go above and beyond, when they can offer fun character interactions, settings, something fresh or that deepens what we already know. 

Regardless, I am still loving what the show is doing and how it goes about it, and I love the gems that stick out amidst the rest of the high quality episodes here! If season three can even just match the quality of the first two, then I’ll have a great time!

Socials - My debut novel is now available! Any support is hugely appreciated :)

Next Review: The Scooby Doo Show Season 3 Episodes 1-4 (Aka Where are You? Season 3) (Coming soon!)

Previous Review: The Scooby Doo Show Season 2 Episodes 1-4

[apartments4rent]

Apartments For Rent: TEN-YEAR RETROSPECTIVE

Ooooohhhh man, this… This is fucking me way up, big time… I don’t even know where to begin with this… I should definitely be using this free time I have today doing my homework, you know, the thing with a hard deadline? That was technically due yesterday?? Well, how about instead of that, I take a walk down memory lane…

Do you remember the 21st night of September? 

Picture this: It’s 2013. It is your sophomore year of high school. You have more friends than you ever have in your life and they are all so wonderful to you (this wouldn’t always be the case and they all wouldn’t stick around but you didn't know that yet). One of you proposes the question: If you were a monster, what would you be? A witch. A vampire. A werewolf. A mermaid. A ghost. A selkie. A dullahan. (You had to look those last two up.) You are so inspired by this that you want to make a story for these ideas to live in. You create a fantasy. Where all your best friends get to live together under one roof. A slice of a life you know you’ll never have. It’s actually the 20th night of September that you created the tumblr blog where most of what comes out of this will live (your first post says “why do i do this to myself”) but it is the 21st night that your creations get their names. Their genders don’t all stay the same but their cores haven’t really changed. “a very dramatic/theatrical witch who loves animals and sass master. a bubbly and happy mermaid who gets really scary when u cross her. a passive, nerdy vampire who isnt so out spoken. a moody selkie who loves to learn and lost her seal skin. a strong beautiful fairy girl who doesnt take shit from no one but is v nice to her friends. a ghost girl from the 1920s who is forgetful and not really confident but really likes her new friends.” You put a disclaimer at the bottom of the post, clarifying that these descriptions shouldn’t be taken as a description of your friends but separate characters entirely. This is also the birth of Marvin, the human man created to navigate this world of chaos, not based on anyone you know in real life. The straight man in this goofball circus. Your Original Character. (Who, you now realize, was designed as the boring main male character in the harem anime.) This was the genesis. And you would never know peace in your life ever since. 

And then what happened?

Bro, so much. A lot can happen in 10 years. You develop the characters further. You make a small town for them to live in (even though you’ve never even been to a small town in your life). You make (bad) art. You make sims because you hate the way you draw but you need a physical version of them to exist outside your head, as you see them. You apparently make a rule where no one outside of your little group is supposed to know about these characters (because you “had an experience” and “don’t wanna repeat it”). You make Alternate Universes for these Alternate Universe selves to populate, again and again. (As of right now, your “AU of an AU” list stands at 26 but there are probably more dumb ones not yet counted on the doc you made.) You try to make a one-shot comic collaboration with all your friends but no one seems to agree on how it should go so nothing but a script and panel formatting ends up getting made. (You know that your script was worse with many unnecessary details but you were bad at killing your darlings and stubborn about your ideas being the best. You’ll learn eventually.) You love and appreciate all the things your friends make for this story you start to feel full ownership of. (You haven’t noticed yet how much of a control freak you are.) Their writing and art give you life, especially considering they are doing The Most while you mostly just come up with ideas. The setting goes from apartment building to boarding house and back again before a year has passed. The first anniversary is a blast! You actually wrote something! And drew something you were proud of! Others wrote and drew and it was great. (How would you know it would never be like this again?) 

And the years go by and by… 

After the first year, you decided you wanted to make a dating sim with these silly characters because you just loved them so much. You shipped the characters (not realizing that your friends did it as a way to express they had crushes on each other, conveniently shipping your self-insert with the only man/only character not based on a friend.) There were still a lot of headcanons being made and posts being shared. But noticeably less and less. Then the second anniversary hit. Not much fanfare. After the second year, more characters started popping up based on more friends you make. Some of the friends that were there in the beginning weren’t anymore and you try not to think about it. After all, these characters aren’t your friends, they are separate and distinct from them. So it’s still OK to play with them, right? (The answer must be yes; ten years later you still do.) Then the third anniversary happens, with 4 posts between them. It was understandable. That was your senior year of high school. Everyone was getting ready to go their separate ways. You were moving clear across the country. Your friend group was getting smaller still and this big shake-up would prove who would stick around to still be a part of this thing and who would remain a memory for you to look back on in ten years. 2017, though, was a big year for the blog. You were unemployed and not yet going to college so you had A LOT of free time on your hands. It was probably the most number of posts you made since the first year of the blog. It was magic. Then you got a job. There have been 16 posts in the last 6 years. 2019 had none. 2020 and 2021 had one each. They were all made by you. There has certainly been less activity on the blog but that doesn’t mean these kids have been lying dormant all this time. You haven’t stopped thinking about them since they first popped up into your head. In 2019, you rewrote the story you had written for one of those anniversaries; the first chronological beat. (You haven’t read it since then; You have no idea if it’s good or not.)  In 2020, you attempted to write the actual story (like fr fr) for NaNoWriMo -- you didn’t get very far but it’s the thought that counts? 2021 was a quiet year as far as actual writing goes - as was 2022 - but trust that your brain definitely didn’t forget about them. 

The Retro part of the Spective 

Alright, enough second-person POV. 

Ten years.

Ten years. 

Talk about hard pills to swallow (thanks FOB). 

I’ve had this “story”, these characters, banging around in my head for ten years and what do I have to show for it? A couple thousand words and a blog full of half-thought ideas? Around this time last year, I was excited about this anniversary. I made a new Twitter for it (before that died) and was planning on actually publishing something to do this story justice… and I chickened out. I convinced myself, once again, that I wasn’t ready. That other things were more important, they took precedence. Do I have even that much to prove I was right? No, I don’t because I really haven’t changed all that much in ten years, if you can believe it. I know, a real shocker. (I still like all the same things I liked back in high school for crying out fucking loud!) I wanted to reach out to the people I used to do this with, to see if they still wanted to be part of it. (I’m sure that wouldn’tve been at all hard, I wonder why I didn’t follow through?) I wanted to have something so I would be able to say, “I did it.” So that maybe, I could finally move on. But that’s the thing, isn’t it… I don’t want to move on. I’m stuck in this arrested development because I refuse to change, to give up any past part of myself. Because if I don’t have that, I don’t know who I am. 

So now what? What’s all this for? One big, sad diary entry reflecting on the parts of myself that I already know very well? 

Honestly, I don’t know. I was hoping I could come to some sort of conclusion by writing this but as it turns out, it only made me want to cry. 

I wanted this to end on a good note.

I spent all day writing this, I can’t end it like this.

So let’s instead talk about all the things that have changed about these goofballs over the years:

Mystic Cove is a city in a Northern California town. It started out in Florida, it almost ended up as a mountain town. I also briefly considered straight up placing it in San Diego because there are some nice, beautiful, old-ass buildings downtown that juxtapose the cold, sleek skyrises in such a way that I thought about writing something about being lonely in a city and finding your own family. 

Vast Acres has been an apartment building, a boarding house, Mediterranean Revival, Victorian, Queen Anne, even briefly considered a Bed and Breakfast. All I know is it has to be the place where this family gets together. At one point under the ownership and operation of Marvin’s dad Alejandro, it is now bequeathed to Marvin by a mysterious, freshly dead uncle/great uncle. 

Marvin is a wholeass person to me, in that he’s not completely knowable to even me anymore. Marvin is probably the person in Mystic Cove I know the BEST and that like doesn’t mean anything to me. Like yeah, I’ve written pages and pages and answered so many pointless questions about him but… I don’t know how else to describe him other than, “He’s an enigma.” The most significant thing about him that’s changed is I’m considering undeading his mom? Just because I feel like we’ve had enough dead mom media and it’s not something I can speak to truthfully. Briefly considered making her a runaway mom? But we’re still thinking about it. I think her name is Lily? 

Mel’s name went from Melinda to Melody because I decided Melinda was a weird name? And Mel likes music so I thought I would be clever. She went from “Marv’s sister” and side character to basically co-lead. Mel was even almost briefly considered as the real main character for a time when I thought to lean into its roots as a product of a high schooler’s imagination and go full YA coming-of-age adventure. It was actually the subject of my 2020 NaNo attempt. I decided against it because I loved Marv too much to push him to “supporting character” and if there’s something about me that’s developed, it’s that I don’t much care for YA books anymore. 

Amber is unsurprisingly my favorite because I’m a Leo. I think I finally decided on a backstory for her that I like and she’s not white anymore? Like, not fully anyway lmao. Before she was like, from someplace in England with like Spanish parents so like tan? But now we’ve decided that she’s from colonized Mexico and her father is a white devil. :) I’ll let you figure that one out. Over these ten years, I’ve grappled with the fact that an immortal is almost impossible to understand. I’ve gone back and forth on whether her immortality is on purpose or by accident or a curse or what. Honestly, I’m still thinking about it, I don’t know for sure what I’ll end up picking. Right now though, it is an involuntary immortality with her life being tied to her sister’s (yes, the cat). Details are fuzzy. I’d have to finish the main story first but if I were to make a spin-off, I would make a prequel story about Amber’s life because it is QUITE eventful. 

Lucas is a man now lmao. And so is Will. And they r gay. For each other. But that’s been that way from the beginning lol. I think Luc’s story had to do with self-worth and Will… Will didn’t have much going on in my mind. My instinct was to make him a himbo but Will has always been very smart in my head so I don’t think that will work? Dude’s beefy asf and mad respectful so perfect man tbh? No notes. 

Jenny’s been my way to try to break down the trope “Born Sexy Yesterday” because that’s just the kinda guy I am. No, but fr I think I was making a very infantilized version of Jenny initially and that’s why I shipped her with Mel in so many AUs?? I’m not against skewing Jenny younger to make that ship viable in canon but I don’t know if that’s the story I want to tell. I don’t think Jenny ever had a goal beyond “Get to the surface” which she gets when she makes her appearance in the story so?? Where do we go from here? Things to think about…

Rohen was fat (like a proper seal should be) before they lost their skin on the beach to some snot-nosed kid and became depressed. When they start healing on their depression journey, they start to gain weight again and it's a good thing. :) 

Everyone else I haven’t mentioned yet hasn’t changed much (ie. I haven’t thought about them much). It’s not that I have favorites (even though I just said that I did), it’s just that I basically go down a list whenever I think about these guys, and, due to my short attention span, I never make it all the way down the list. AND honestly, it’s probably for the best because looking back… there were WAAAY too many characters to keep track of ngl… Like it’s a slice-of-life thing, I know. Not every character has to be involved in every storyline but like… At some point, you have to draw a line at, “How many named characters with their own plotlines can I insert into this story?” YKWIM? Especially because at one point there was a whole roster of other people who lived in the apartment building when there were like 20 units. That was (rightly) reduced back down to just the core cast. 

You can pry Jonesy from my cold, dead hands, tho. He’s perfect. He can stay.

This post took me literally all day. 

I’m tired.

I don’t really expect anyone to read all this but if you are not me and you made it to the bottom, congratulations! You now know me on a much deeper level! :) I hope I can convince myself to buckle down and write, straight up. Maybe NaNo this year? No promises. I’m trying to apply for university this year and living situation issues might take precedence but such is life, right? 

Thank you.

I love you all.

For giving me this gift.

Even if you never intended to give it fully to me.

It’s mine now, bitches. >:) 

Here’s to 10 years! And many (but hopefully not too many) more…

Cheers. 🥂🍾

❤️