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dingbatnix · 1 year

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Lasagna

Gosh dang you notice how weird that is to spell? English is so freaking weird you'd think there'd be a 'Y' in friggin 'la-za-nya' but no I guess not xD. Anyway, so I had some lasagna the other day and it was really good, + I had a small drabble floating around of Sapnap being able to survive being baked in an oven, sooooo this appeared!

O yeah taglist: @i-am-beckyu @brick-a-doodle-do @kayla-crazy-stuffs here you go @da3dm a bit late but oop xD

Also I did an art for this : D

Poor Sap, he is a frighten. Anyway.

Word Count: 2,686

Warnings: Fear of death, fear of being eaten, yeah that's about it. No actual noms this time, but it's very close ; D

The furnace was hot, and the quickly melting cheddar cheese was even hotter. Sapnap tried to wriggle, heart pounding heavily in his chest from the panic and adrenaline that was overwhelming his system, but it was no use. There were layers of pasta, cheese, and sauce weighing down his entire body, and he just could not move. Honestly, he was surprised he could breathe at all, what with the blanket of noodles over his head. He was lucky his earlier wriggling had created a pocket of air, even if it was only a small one.

Sapnap was…currently stuck. He hadn’t meant to fall into the pan of uncooked lasagna during a brief spell when the human had been gone. It was a total accident! He’d just wanted to grab some of the deliciously alluring cheese that was all over the top of the pasta, but he got startled when the human walked back into the room and had fallen in. Luckily, or unluckily, depending on which way Sapnap wanted to look at it, he’d fallen hard enough that he had been embedded deeply into the noodles, and he was fortunate the human hadn’t noticed the indent, but…the bean had proceeded to put more layers of lasagna over the top, trapping Sapnap underneath them.

Sapnap hadn’t been able to struggle free in time, and next he knew, the pasta, and more importantly, he, was put into the blazing hot furnace. The borrower bit his lip with a sharp canine, holding back a long whine of terror. It wasn't the fear of physical injury that was giving him such horrible anxiety, no, not that. Sapnap was born in fire, the heat didn't hurt him. No, it was the fear of discovery that locked his joints and seized his lungs. He didn’t know what was worse: The fact that he might be discovered, or the fact that there was the very real possibility that he might be accidentally eaten by an unaware human.

That, and also maybe the fact that there was a chance he would be impaled by a human's fork.

He wriggled again, sucking in another short breath, and squeezed his eyes shut. What a way to go out. It was a good thing he didn’t have any family left, a good thing there would be nobody to mourn him. He wouldn’t be able to live with…or, well. He couldn’t bear it if he were leaving anybody to fend for themselves, alone, in the world that was way too big for them. He’d feel awful.

It was a long, long forty minutes Sapnap was trapped in the maybe-a-little-too-warm oven. Sure, he was a nether-born, and he could swim in lava if he really wanted to, but that didn’t mean that it’d be good for him to do so. He’d get heat-sick.

The borrower was almost relieved when the pan was pulled out of the oven, but the overwhelming thought that none of this was over just yet crushed that feeling very quickly. He still couldn’t get free, the weight of all of the pasta on top of his body too much for him to move.

A thud jarred his body, and then he heard the human’s voice, too muffled and indistinct to make out, high above his head. Then, he heard a nauseating squelch as the lasagna was cut. Sapnap shivered, but didn’t have much time to dwell on it. To his utter, complete horror, the chunk he was stuck in was lifted free from the pan. He still couldn’t see anything, but he felt when everything was jarred again. Vertigo swirled through his head as everything started moving, and he had to try desperately to control his breathing and not burst out into terrified whimpering.

Sapnap tried struggling again, but everything was still too closely packed, and the jarring movements of the human had made the pasta shift, all but burying Sapnap’s small pocket of air. He tried not to hyperventilate. He didn’t know if it’d be better or worse if he was found unconscious. Probably worse. There’d be no chance to run away if he were comatose.

He felt more than saw the tines of a metal fork scrape underneath him, spearing through one of the big flat noodles underneath his body. He felt a tine scrape along his spine, sending skin-crawling shivers wracking his body, and it took him only a moment to realize that the strap of his bag had been caught around the metal prong. He tried tugging at it as he was lifted up, but the leather was caught too tightly.

Sapnap looked up, chest heaving wildly, and a huge, gaping red maw filled his vision. His heart nearly exploded from the sheer terror, and his breath froze in his lungs. Those teeth were nearly as big as he was!

The borrower jerked his limbs, attempting to jump off of the fork, but the strap of his bag and the congealed pasta held him stuck fast. He tried heaving himself up, but it was no use! A quick glance back up at his approaching death made his own mouth go dry. He was fire-retardant, yeah, but he wouldn't be able to survive being chewed to bits!

Sapnap let loose a scream that could rival a phantom’s, sure he was about to die. Be it by the human’s teeth, or by the human’s hands, he wasn’t sure, but his doom was imminently approaching, and there was nothing he could do about it.

°°°°°°°°

George froze, fork midway to his mouth. The hand fiddling with his communicator stilled, and he glanced down with wide eyes, sure he had just heard someone scream. A flash of movement snatched his gaze to his forkful of pasta, and then all George could do was stare.

There was a tiny creature on his fork, tangled up in thick clumps of cheese and sauce. Its little chest was heaving, and its tiny teeth were bared in a fearful grimace as it met George’s eyes.

The creature tried to lunge off of the utensil, but the partially congealed cheese held it stuck fast. As George watched, he realized that the strap of its tiny bag was caught on one of the tines of his fork. A terrified noise escaped from the creature’s mouth, jolting the brunette out of his startled stupor.

George shrieked and dropped the fork, shoving back from the table and shooting to his feet. His communicator clattered to the table, forgotten in the brunette’s panic.

The creature gave another tiny scream of its own as it fell, wriggling and thrashing against the congealed pasta that held it hostage, but it didn’t seem like it was strong enough to break away.

It hit the table with a small, wet splat, snapping the strap of its bag and knocking it free from the fork, and then it was trying to scramble away, but cheese was still gluing its limbs together, even the tiny, tufted tail that trailed from its spine. George gaped, watching in bewilderment as the creature struggled to pull itself off of the table. It finally managed to free an arm, which spurred George into action.

He snatched up Dream's empty cup and slammed it down over the tiny creature, trapping it underneath the ceramic container. A tiny, muffled sound escaped from the mug as George yanked his hand back, staring down at it in disbelief. What the hell…?

"George? Everything okay?" Dream poked his head around the doorframe, concern creasing the shape of his brow. His eyes took in the mess on the table and George standing a good couple of feet away from it.

"There's a tiny man under the mug." George mumbled, staring blankly at the overturned mug, and then up at Dream. The blond’s face scrunched up in bewilderment, and he looked at George like he had grown a second head. “What?”

“There’s a tiny man under the mug,” George reiterated, pointing at the overturned pink mug for emphasis. His face suddenly screwed up in disgust. "It was in my food!" He exclaimed, waving his hands emphatically at the barely-touched plate of lasagna on the table. Dream had to hold back a small laugh.

Interest piqued, the tall blonde moved to the table and looked over the upside down mug curiously. It seemed normal enough…

Carefully, Dream wrapped a hand around the mug and quickly flipped it over, cupping his other hand over the top so whatever the creature was couldn’t escape and gently set the cup back down on the table. Slowly, he removed his hand, peering down inside of the mug to see what George was freaking out so much about.

Something was pressed up against the inside side of the cup, staring at Dream. Dream had to stop when he finally got a good glimpse of it, shock and disbelief coloring his expression. George was right. It–err, more namely, he, was just a tiny guy. He was incredibly small, maybe about two or three inches in stature. He had a long, thin tail like a mouse that faded to a rich brown at the tip, where a plume of dark fluff seemed to sprout. The fluff was still tangled and gunked up with pasta, but the little guy either didn’t notice, or didn’t care. Two pointed ears stuck out from the sides of his head, also dark at the tips. Those tiny ears were laid back against the little guy’s head, and were twitching rather frantically.

Miniature blue eyes stared back up at Dream, and the pure terror he could see radiating out of them was like a punch to the gut. Dream immediately felt bad for the little thing, and was quick to try and reassure him.

“Hey–” Dream started, but was quickly interrupted by George. "Why were you in my food?" The brunette demanded, stepping closer to the table and leaning over the ceramic cup to see the little creature better. He quailed under George’s gaze, his whole, tiny body trembling as his breath hitched up.

“George, you’re scaring him,” Dream cut in, dropping a hand over the shorter man’s shoulder and gently tugging him away from the mug. Seeing George’s petulant expression looming over him couldn’t have been too nice for the little guy.

“I’m scaring him?” George snapped with a scowl. “Well, I’m not the one who was in the freaking lasagna! I nearly had a heart attack!” He glowered at the tiny ravenette, crossing his arms and straightening up his spine.

"I just…I wanted some cheese, man! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to fall in!" The voice, quiet and breathless and shaking, was a surprise to both Dream and George, but it was nice to know that the little guy could speak, nice to know that he could understand them.

"Well...here," If all the little guy wanted was some cheese, Dream wasn’t going to just deny him any. That would be mean. The blond snagged a small plate from the clean dish rack and set it on the table, then scooped up a forkful lasagna and plopped it in the center of the new plate. He then reached towards the mug, intent on letting the little dude out so he could get some of the pasta. Before his hand was even close, the tiny man shrieked, throwing himself down to the bottom of the cup and shielding his head with his arms. Dream froze, shooting a concerned glance at George, who shrugged, uncertainly. Wh…why was the little guy so scared? It wasn’t like Dream was going to hurt him.

Dream stooped down a little bit, trying not to loom over the guy’s head so much, and dropped his voice down to a whisper. “Hey, it’s alright. You’re alright. I’m not gonna hurt you, okay?” The ravenette only whined, body shaking as his tiny, tufted, cheese-infused tail curled around his form. Dream frowned, and tried again, slowly reaching out to wrap his hands around the mug. “Do you…I’m going to let you out of the cup now, okay? Then you can have some of George’s lasagna. We’re not going to hurt you, little guy.” He assured again, trying to reiterate that everything would be alright.

Carefully, Dream lifted the mug and slowly tipped it over next to the plate of pasta, wincing guiltily when the tiny man uncurled from his ball with a yelp and tried to scramble back up the side of the mug. He slid out onto the table with barely a sound, and he stumbled backwards until the backs of his thighs met the rim of the plate. He tipped over, arms pinwheeling, but managed to land in a sit on the edge of the ceramic. He froze then, staring up at George and Dream while sucking in short, panting breaths of air.

“It’s alright, you’re okay,” Dream tried again, a flash of guilt flaring up in his chest. He and George weren’t…really that scary, were they? Dream hoped not. The tiny guy had nothing to fear from them.

While Dream tried to calm the small man down, George turned to one of the cabinets and pulled out a rag. The little ravenette was still caked in pasta, and it had to be annoying. He ran it under the faucet for a good few seconds, then turned back to the dinner table, where he saw that Dream had crouched down to be closer to eye level with the little guy. George set the warm, damp rag next to the tiny ravenette. “Here. So you can get all of that off you.” George offered. The tiny guy flinched away from George’s hand, but then hesitantly took up a corner of the rag and started working through the tangled mess of fluff and pasta at the end of his tail. George winced sympathetically as he sat back down. That looked like it hurt.

“So…do you have a name, dude? Or should we just keep calling you, ‘little guy?” Dream asked, leaning his elbows against the table as he slid into the chair opposite George’s.

“S…Sapnap. I–my name is, is Sapnap.” The little guy offered, his tiny voice nearly a whisper. The two humans very nearly couldn’t hear it, and had to lean a bit closer to hear him properly.

“Were you…did I—were you in the furnace?!” George suddenly blurted, stomach twisting. He would have noticed if there was a tiny man in the pasta when he’d gotten some, wouldn’t he? Like if there was an indent or something, right? Maybe George had missed it. He hoped he had. There was no way the little guy would have survived being baked in the nearly four-hundred degree furnace.

“O-oh. Er, yeah, I was.” He seemed to notice the horrified expression of George’s face, because then he raised his hands and shook them disarmingly. “I–don’t worry, I’m fine! I was, I was born in the nether, I can take a little heat!”

George didn’t look like he fully believed him, and when he glanced at the other human, Dream, he looked mostly concerned, but Sapnap didn’t really care. It’s not like it mattered, right? It…they weren’t planning to stick him back in the furnace, were they? He tugged viciously at a particularly stubborn tangle and winced, pushing most of his thoughts to the backburner. He was alive, he wasn’t hurt, yet, and the humans seemed content to just watch him, for now.

He couldn’t run away as he was right this moment. His bag was still tangled around the pasta-covered fork dozens of inches away, and there was still lasagna all over him, making it harder and harder to move as the cheese started to cool down and congeal. He’d…he’d have to escape later.

Sapnap hoped desperately to End that they weren't going to kill him after all of this. Maybe they just wanted to keep him as a pet…? Even though the thought was so distressing that Sapnap nearly whimpered, it’d be better than being outright killed. At least, if they kept him as a pet, at least he’d have a chance to escape.

Eventually.

#mentioned noms i guess #mcyt g/t #mcyt gt #writing #g/t writing #giant!dream #g/t #giant!george #tiny!sapnap #mmm lasagna #anyway now i gotta put this on ao3 which i think is wayyy more toubke than its worth but whatevs #borrower!sapnap #borrower sapnap #o also ive decided that Sapnap's etes will be blue #and will only turn orange when hes really mad #or the other way around? blue is the hottest fire #i could also do brown and just have them go orange #hmmmm imma have to think about this

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kylos-starlight · 8 months

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Oops :) Gets real under the cut. It's nothing bad though! <3 turns into a gush post near the end~ It's a little long so I get it if no one reads it but I like to voice my thoughts that's all.

Top of the list he goes. He deserves to be there. Not only are his scenes at the end of IX helping me to overcome my fear of thunder and lightning. There's something else.

A few years ago I lost a certain spark. Every ounce of creativity and passion I had shattered. I was always chasing the next "big f/o" that would spark that passion again, that creativity. I never found it and I got depressed for a little bit because I thought I would never find a love as grand as I had before. So my storytelling became nonexistent, I stopped drawing, and the endless thoughts I used to have were replaced with an endless emptiness so I went quiet. I gave up trying to chase something that I thought would never happen again. I was slowly losing myself

I spent a last few years yes, self-shipping and yes don't get me wrong I love all of my f/o but there was something missing, I didn't feel the need to scream every two second about how much I love them, there was just something "off" with myself. I couldn't voice it or the anons would come with their pitchforks "You don't really love your f/o" plus it was hard to put into words. How can you love your f/o but still feel that something is missing?

cut to my sick ass lazing on the couch in the present time. I get an idea, "Hey I haven't watched the Star Wars movies in like...forever- maybe I'll re-watch them all.. then there are the newer ones I haven't seen yet." So I start watching the movies. I had a few interruptions when I was watching VII and VIII but I kept on watching. I thought Kylo Ren's lightsaber was so badass but at the time thought nothing much of Ben himself.

As the days went on I decided to rewatch VII VIII and IX because of said past interruptions be it people or my sick ass having to take meds and stuff. As I do with most things I watch the second time I really consume it. I noticed something. Something different. The very first time Kylo took his helmet off I felt it the feeling that started in my chest and radiated to my stomach.. butterflies? He spoke and there was no distortion from his mask as he wasn't wearing it and I felt my heart skip a bit. what the hell?

the more I watched the more I learned, the more I learned the more I started to fall in love. Do I condone some of the things he's done? No. Do I still love him? Absolutely. After the movies I sort of just sat there on my couch, looking at my own reflection of the tv. "wow, I like Ben huh?" I said to myself then I shrugged. "Ah, fleeting crush and maybe an f/o" Throughout the rest of the day however I couldn't stop thinking about him. Everything from his appearance to how he talked and how he carried himself.

So I decided to run with it. Would it be one of those f/o where I say I'm crushing and nothing happens? Or maybe it will be like my other recent f/o Alex? Talk about him for a little bit but then the fixation dies almost as quickly as it started?

Neither of that happened. I got flooded with endless thoughts, and ideas. Ideas for moodboards, playlists, art.

I got attached to Ben so much, it's hard to explain it but I feel connected to him in a way that I never thought was possible for me ever again. He makes me genuinely smile and I don't mean just smile with my mouth but makes me smile with my eyes. He makes me blush and laugh and feel like I'm on top of the world in such a euphoric state. I actually feel like we're together- like actually. I know it sounds insane but I have every bit of real emotion for Ben. I feel well- in love.

I said I love all my other f/o too and its true and this might sound terrible and believe me I've thought myself as a terrible person but the love I hold for Ben is higher and so much more different than the love I have for the others..

I thought he'd be like a shooting star. A moment of fun but he'd fade away just as fast as he came into my life.

I'm thankful that wasn't the case. He managed to do what I thought wasn't ever gonna happen to me again. He reignited my spark and love and appreciation. I can't say the last time I smiled this much irl and how much I've had my heartbeat fast and the tint rise to my cheeks.

I guess in short...

Ben makes me feel like I'm alive again.

<- I'm trying so hard not to cry as I talk about this but I mean it's true, I've had so much bullshit happen in my life. I've survived so many hardships and awful people. I forgot what feeling alive was, I thought my new normal was to not expect happiness because it will be met with tragedy and I'll be back at square one. Alone and fighting demons in my mind.

Ben has reignited my heart and I am forever grateful for him, I love him so much already and I hold him so incredibly dear. He makes me feel strong, and loved, and passionate- I love him with my entire soul. So deeply that the love extends past the words themselves. It's so much deeper.

If you read this far thank you <3 It means a lot to me. Thanks for listening to me coherently ramble for once.

#You pull me in; I don't resist #gushing.png #I sorta opened my heart in this and it's fucking TERRFYING so please don't make fun of me #long post;

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wyldblunt · 1 year

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i love your seeing your art, but I'm so curious to see what your salads (like lorelai, merritt, etc) look like in game! Ik sometimes in-game representations aren't completely accurate, but could you show some screenshots, for curiosity reasons 👀

i can!!! full disclosure i am very bad at screencaps (i WANT to get better i'm just lazy + impatient....) so i actually don't have a ton of good ones -- normally i just am kind of. spamming rough caps without even hiding the UI just to use as drawing reference. BUT, let's see what i do have!

starting with the big four: marina's commander, alan!

(the yellow guy in those last two caps is my clooney -- a lot of the time most of the good caps i have of marina's characters are duo ones like this bc we are really bad at remembering to send each other individual character caps from our respective computers lmao)

then of course my commander, glyn, who i have posted caps of before but why not more:

and then our lieutenant commanders, lorelei (mine) and merrit (marina's):

these are a little out of date bc i recently swapped lorelei over to the f model and i like a lot of things about that better, but i still consider both appearances canon!

also as a bonus, the most important merrit cap i have ever taken:

and under the cut i'll put some of our side characters!

OKAY SO here's a little more clooney (including some with lingering ui lol sorry):

(it is really fucked up that i can't keep his aviators on when he's wearing outfits so i have to self soothe)

bowyn (pink, mine) and rhys (dark purple, marina's):

(these are also out of date bc we decided later on that bowyn is actually way taller than rhys but. doesn't bother us bad enough for us to blow TWO makeover kits just to adjust height sliders, yknow)

maelduin (tawny, mine) and cadair (green, marina's):

aaand okay re: viper squad. i did make donner but i don't have any good caps rn and i am too lazy to start gw up to take them oops sorry. i do have PLANS for daimhin tho:

and here's an attempt i made at damage but... i don't think i'm actually gonna make her bc like. if i can't have the venus flytrap hair what's the point. i think it would bother me the whole time. this design is still cute tho:

AND THAT'S ALL THE IMAGES I'M ALLOWED TO PUT IN ONE POST APPARENTLY LMAO it's fine bc some of my other ocs i have caps of but i'm not quite satisfied w them yet!! so maybe someday :)

#ty for the ask!!#my ocs #marina ocs #alan #glyndwr #merrit #lorelei #clooney #bowyn #rhys #cadair #maelduin #viper squad #merrilei #alan/clooney #bowyn/rhys #cadair/maelduin

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croik · 10 months

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Hastur’s mind buzzed excitedly. Though he had virtually no experience teaching his own language to a mind as relatively simple as a human’s, every inch forward in Arthur’s progress brought him a prickly delight. To say nothing of his particular choice… “Yes,” he answered with as much restraint as he could muster. “Though stressing verbs like that is more of a regional dialect. In Carcosa we would simply use the word for longing, myhrey.”

(if you're still accepting fic asks!)

(Yes, I love talking about worldbuilding and characters!!)

Not sure if you're more interested in Hastur or the language stuff here, so I guess I'll blah about both XD;

There are only a few phrases of canon "Cthuvian" in the mythos - three or four famous sentences by HPL himself, and a few add ons from other authors. As far as I can tell there isn't much in the way of fan-completed con-langs because there's not much to work with, the language is *supposed* to be unintelligible, and some of the authors who added to it were lazily just slapping funny spelled words on English sentence structure etc. But there are a few things that seem relatively consistent: pronouns that become a prefix when attached to a verb, like "ya / y'"; prepositions also become prefixes to the noun they're describing like l'ebumna and l'geg. There's only one example in the spattering of words that uses repetition (n'gha-gha) and I don't think we know what it's supposed to mean, but while randomly googling language concepts, I was thinking of how in English we use repetition to slightly change the meanings of things ("do you LIKE HIM like him?") and was amused by the idea of inserting something similar to Cthuvian. So this part of their lesson is not "canon" but nothing says it couldn't be either.

I have a little spreadsheet devoted to what I've sussed out of the Cthuvian that appeared in the actual stories, and I've been slowly adding some things just for fun, trying to work out the basics of how the language could be structured. But I'm not a linguist so I doubt it's impressive yet lol. I haven't really done much research other than some language classes in college while learning Japanese.

This fic (I Long to be Filled) I started writing before the story that now comes before it. I originally meant for it to take place someone fairly soon after the Squeezing, but ultimately decided I wanted them to have some "normal" sex before Hastur whipped his real dick out, which is why there are references to the Scholars and such things that came up before but haven't been paid off yet (oops). I've since developed a lot more backstory for how the King came to Carcosa in the first place, which may come to light later. But I especially think that part of what sets the King in Yellow apart from other mythos figures is his canonical connection to theater, music, and the arts. He fancies himself not just as a god but royalty among gods; he distinguishes himself by his ornaments (he's the king IN yellow, the play describes "the tatters of the king" rather than the king himself). Compared to his half brother, he's CULTURED. We get to see a little of that in Malevolent but way more in John (and Yellow) than with the King himself, which is interesting considering that John is in some ways a more pure version of the King, free from thousands of years of experience.

So this whole fic we get to see a version of John who is learning that his appreciation of these things has a long and illustrious history, and a version of the King who is finding new ways to delight in parts of his nature that have been commonplace to the point of complacency, relearning himself through Arthur's study. And that's very exciting for him :3

Thank you for the ask!

#malevolent fanfic #entangledverse #the king in yellow #ask game #cthuvian

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chidoroki · 1 year

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182 Days of TPN - Day 45

Chapter 45: “The Rescue”

When I first received my copy of the art book, I remember being so amazed at the details of this chapter’s cover page that I previously never noticed before (and I revisit this chapter a lot), but this little section with the duo is so clever! How Ray is placed in the exact same position as the drawing right underneath him with the kid in the jar and also putting Emma in front of the demon’s mouth like that are such smart moves. And I obviously can’t read the whole message behind her legs, but I can sorta make out “wake up/in danger/unfortunate/suffer,” which all apply perfectly to both her & Ray’s current situation right now. Seriously though, buy the art book if you can. The illustrations are in such a lovely quality. Even looking at it now, I’m gonna take a guess and say the words near Ray’s back say something like “How are you feeling Ray?” (Also, if demons don’t have lips, then how the hell did that one GF demon whistle two chapters ago??)

I must focus on other scenes in this chapter so much that I forgot Sonju actually uses smoke bombs. For the longest time I believed they were just an anime addition..oops.

Yeaaah, they’re certainly not the smartest demons around. To be fair, they couldn’t see through all the smoke either.

Now, I love that Ray’s mind never stops working even after getting snatched up by a completely strange and possibly dangerous “person” because it just suits him to be cautious, but typical anime doesn’t allow us to hear his thoughts.

On the flip side however, I do enjoy how it shows how frightened Ray really is. This boy was just chased by several demons, barely survived by getting kidnapped basically and woke up completely alone, with no knowledge of the status or whereabouts of his family. Sure, he’s normally the calm and analytical one out of the trio, but even someone like him would have to be panicking at least a little bit after everything he just went through and I think the anime shows that (& his left eye pfft) really well.

Yes I also gave praise towards the anime once before for remembering something so minor such as the bell Mujika left for Emma. And (knowing me) I’m sure I noticed this several times in the past, but it looks as if Ray’s checking her ear too, right? That’s sweet.. all the anime gave us was a couple taps on her shoulder.

The amount of relief on my son’s mf face! AAAH! He’s so damn precious he makes me wanna cry. And I know I keep going back and forth between giving praise to both medias but I personally like the anime better for this wholesome expression.

Can confirm that Mujika’s voice is very nice, both in sub & dub, though I love Ray’s comment about it and how he’s a bit wary. Dude knows first hand that being kind and having a sweet voice doesn’t necessarily mean that person is trustworthy.. I mean, have you seen his mother? (and I skipped a big moment, I know. I scream about it at the end).

Mixed feelings about him holding his arm out in front of her when Mujika approaches them. Emma is the one person who can certainly protect herself (also doesn’t necessarily need it because main character plot armor) but also aww, look at him being so serious about keeping his promise yet again.

While we don’t get the scene of Mujika checking Emma’s ear or shaking her hand, we do get a shot a bit later showing that her hand is indeed still covered, so at least there’s some consistency there with keeping her demon appearance a secret just for a few moments longer.

Of course he notices something’s off. He just calmed down after experiencing one of the harshest days of this life and now he’s about to freak out all over again.

The level of confidence he has in his assumption despite all the fears the the truth is bringing out of him. Also, the way Sonju just looms silently in the back while those bugs shed tiny specks of light on him is so nice. This frame doesn’t do it justice but just go back and watch it. And I don’t listen to the s2 soundtrack nearly enough as I should (seriously, Obata is fantastic and I’m so glad we got him back for another season), but the start of “The Evil-Blooded Girl” playing during this scene is perfect.

I still can’t believe this is where the first ep of season two ends.. literally SO MUCH happened these last 8 chapters and they decided to cram in all in less than 20 minutes?? Granted they managed to cut out quite a lot, but still! The first episode went way too quick, as if the OP sequence wasn’t enough of a red flag already about how much this season would possibly cover. Speaking of fast, my boy looks like he’s ready to run for his life again and no doubt about to drag Emma along with him.

Favorite panel/moment:

THEIR DAMN HUG!!! Again, I read through unofficial translations the first time but even now I prefer the “You’re still alive.. I’m so glad you’re alive!” a little better? It ties back in with Emma’s original worries when Ray first offered to lead the demons away, but the official gets the same point across though. REGARDLESS, this panel is filled with so many feelings and it of course sends waves of emotion over me as well.

And I know I shouldn’t bitch about how the anime handled it and should instead be glad they even included it at all since they decided to cut out so much of the entire story in general, but it just.. doesn’t hit as hard as I hoped? Naturally, their voice actresses did a lovely job as always, but I dunno.. the way the manga has it all framed just looks better to me? like Emma is desperately hanging onto him there and overcome with an immense sense of relief that Ray managed to escape those demons alive. And I’m not real fond of how they animated Ray returning the hug either, like who wraps one arm around someone and then the other?? It just feels so slow and awkward to me. I can easily excuse it like “oh it’s Ray, the boy who distanced himself from everyone else all his life, he doesn’t know how to hug properly,” ..but he also has Emma as a friend and I’m certain she gave hugs to literally everyone without warning all the time so he has to be used to them by now.

ALSO! Can’t be entirely happy about because they left out THE HEAD PAT!!! How dare they.. it’s probably my favorite one too.

My nitpicking aside, I’m truly happy we still got to see this embrace. It ain’t perfect, but it’s decent and most importantly, at least it’s there.

#the promised neverland #tpn manga #182daysoftpn #chidoroki used chatter

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raayllum · 2 years

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Where do you currently stand with the “fake Rayla” idea? Two possible ideas, and I have arguments that kind of work for both sides… so I can’t decide for myself what I believe yet.

1) it really is her and we don’t need to worry

2) it’s not her

I mean, these are obviously the two sides of the coin (oops), but here’s my current line of thinking:

- She is the only member of the team who has a crack going across her face on the promo art. This implies a sort of duality… is there another side to her? Maybe there is another her (a REAL her) that’s somewhere else… ok, maybe she does go back but she’s hiding something? What if Aaravos promised her parents back in exchange for the cube?? A reverse cube hostage theory- Rayla has to bring Callum/ the key to Aaravos? I find it a bit weird her cuddlemonkey just went straight for the cube and picked it up, bringing it back to Rayla… it’s not yours, don’t touch it… and saying “you look nice”’as a first sentence after two years is also not really.. normal haha. If that is their true reunion I’m not sure how that’s going to play out, why Rayla chooses THEN of all times to go back (beeline for the cube…?!) and tells Callum he looks “nice”…! 😅 yeah that’s not going to go down well I don’t think

- the way she stands is also a bit weird. Maybe she has changed in the time she’s been away (she must have done), but do people drastically change their standing stance? As far as I can remember, I don’t recall seeing Rayla ever stand the way she did in the shot with everyone on the top of the spire. (Standing straight with her hands in front of her. Reminded me a bit of Claudia actually…) Maybe it is a funeral as some people have speculated, so she’s standing differently for that out of respect, but none of the other characters are standing particularly differently… I don’t know, this felt super awkward for me and I don’t know why. The cuddlemonkey is suspicious and I can’t place my finger on it yet. (Let’s not forget the star rube glowing on the cube very brightly before Callum saw rayla… does the monkey have a stronger primal connection to the stars than rayla does to the moon? Surely the cube picks up on the strongest connection, if it can only do one at a time? Unless Rayla is a star illusion… or Aaravos casting magic for what Callum “wants to see” from behind the mirror, and Rayla only appears briefly in that scene…)

- there is another scene with her without her animal companion, running away from characters we don’t recognise. Is that real Rayla? I’m curious to see the progression to that stage and who these mystery characters are

- if Rayla does appear in one of the opening episodes and stays with the boys, then why do we have that scene of Callum picking up one of her blades? He seemed genuinely upset and yearning for her. Maybe my idea of their reunion is warping it slightly, but to me it seems like either he realised that the Rayla they were with was not HIS Rayla, but an imposter of sorts or… Rayla is taken away later in the season and the cube hostage theory can be carried out? It doesn’t look like Callum had been fighting at that point, it looks more like he came across the blade on the floor… but I’m just speculating!

There’s a lot to unpack from the information we have been fed and I am buzzing!!!!!! I’m curious to hear whether any of your theories have changed, or what sort of line of thinking you’ve got for the progression of the new season.

Written more of my thoughts here about Fake Rayla! While I can see the symbolism and reasoning for it, I do think she's real in every scene. Even if the rune should be glowing for Rayla as a Moonshadow elf, that would also go for her being an illusion (aka spell actively happening) but Stella is literally holding the key, so that's the difference there.

Rayla sacrificed everything (the life she wanted with the boy she loved) in order to protect the world. She would never willingly team up with Aaravos, even if he had her parents; they were all willing to die for their duty to 'protect' the world (literally in Lain and Tiadrin's cases, and that's what Runaan thought he was doing in the assassination mission).

I ultimately think Rayla has had either an epiphany of sorts (perhaps through talking with Ethari, who's been changed by having lost his own love for the past two years) or she's been tricked into thinking she's fulfilled her mission. I could also see her coming back and hiding something (information) in order to try to protect the boys two fold.

I also don't think "You look nice" is her first sentence to him. TDP always heavily splices up their trailers. That could be a line in their initial reunion scene, it could also be from episodes later (same thing with the smile, I think it's later, given how nervous she looks when she steps through the window and shows herself).

With this second expression revealed on Twitter fitting the scene far better. I think she'll probably only smile once she sees that Callum is happy to see her (even his initial reaction has clearly been shortened, since there's no way, to me, that the gasp and his first reaction is that short tbh; TDP loves their microexpressions, they're gonna give him some).

So while I can see her being an illusion (and indeed the biggest piece of evidence for that is not knowing how/why she's convinced herself that she can come back), that's not the way I'm leaning. I just think rather than having her continued absence driving the story forward, it'll be the emotional toll coming back around in the end to justify something like Callum partaking in CHET (exchanging the cube for her life) because he's lost her once, and he cannot / will not do it again. Especially if Rayla has come back and hasn't fully learned that she never needed to risk her life on that way / on that level in the first place.

#thanks for asking #rayllum #reunion vibes #s4 spoilers #s4 #tdp #the dragon prince #tdp spoilers #fake rayla theory #arc 2 #anonymous #speculation #predictions

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lifeonthemurdersim · 1 year

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i am here in your inbox like i said i would be to ask about my buddy, my pal, Azazel 🫡

🔮: If they were to feature in the art of a tarot card, which one would it be and why?

👀: Describe their physical appearance in as much detail as possible. Facial features, colors, height, build, etc.

🙏: What are their feelings on religion? If they are religious, what do they practice? How much of an impact does it have on their daily life? (knowing what i know i had to do this one lmaoo)

Thank you! 🥰 Yesssss, Azazel! He will absolutely be your buddy and help you away from the mean murder men! Unless he has an oops moment and kills you with his powers by mistake but that's RARE, okay?

🔮: If they were to feature in the art of a tarot card, which one would it be and why?

I would put Azazel on Judgement. Yes, part of that is because he's literally an angel, which the card depicts, and one could say the way the angel is presiding over people with them all looking to him reflects the whole accidentally-starting-a-cult situation(see below).

But the main reason I chose it is because he's a fallen angel so I would depict him as the card reversed, and the reversed meanings fit him so well. Indecisiveness and self doubt are some of his biggest weaknesses, and unfair blame (from the other angels towards him) is one of the most important things about his character. He's a falsely accused fallen angel.

👀: Describe their physical appearance in as much detail as possible. Facial features, colors, height, build, etc.

Azazel is slim but with slightly broader shoulders, and 6'7", so he's within the range that could appear human but is noticeably tall.

Azazel is Black and fairly dark skinned. He has long very coily bright white hair with a slight glow to it which can only really be seen in dim light. He generally wears his hair in twists or braids, because if he wears it naturally it's noticeably halo-like. Azazel has bright purple eyes, and for a while on earth he tried wearing brown contact lenses to hide them, until he realised he could just tell people he wore purple ones.

Azazel appears physically to be in his late twenties. He's actually much older, though in angel terms he's still considered young, which is one of the reasons he was used as such a scapegoat.

Azazel will possibly be my biggest challenge to draw because I don't have a sense of his features yet, all I know is he's supposed to be incredibly beautiful. The kind of beautiful that just makes you want to stare at him. If you look him in the eyes though, it can be almost too intense and overwhelming. The only way a human could handle it without feeling uncomfortable is if they formed a very deep emotional connection with him.

Azazel has a few intricate designs scarified onto his body. They look beautiful but they represent every infraction he was accused of in heaven, and came up automatically at the time, so on the plus side, they weren't very painful for him.

What was very painful was when he cut off his wings when he tried to begin passing as a human. He had someone to stitch them up and they're only really noticeable if he's shirtless. However, they're still "there" in a non-physical sense and again, if MC was to get close enough to him emotionally they may be able to "see" them.

🙏: What are their feelings on religion? If they are religious, what do they practice? How much of an impact does it have on their daily life?

Yep, you very much knew what you were doing here 🤣 bitch he is religion okurrrrrrr (he would not fucking say that)

As an angel, religious belief itself is a mystery to Azazel because he kind of knows the afterlife and other things that don't necessarily correlate to any religion's viewpoint. He has no interest in spreading the truth about that or whatever, he's just trying to live his life. He's absolutely terrified of being sent back to heaven though.

When he was thrown out of heaven to earth (his "crimes" were not egregious enough for hell) he was found by a group of people (naming no names Isaiah) who ended up worshipping him and forming a cult around him. It was honestly a terrifying experience for him that he's still not over. That was when he made the decision to try and blend in a little more, but he's never truly free from the cult.

He doesn't shirk responsibility with regards to that though. He feels just as guilty as he does afraid, and that's why he has a responsibility towards a MC involved with the cult he accidentally spawned, or that are targeted by malicious demons, angels etc.

So yeah, he has a horrible experience with religion and his overall reaction is fear.

#zazey zaaaazey #gah. love him.#oc: azazel blake #murder sim oc #thank you for the ask!#asks #might tag more later #boyfriend to death oc #...sort of?

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lmk-6earm4c-au-blog · 6 months

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Yun Zhe @Lunar Arts tweeted 13:13 🤡 I guess Six Ears isn't the only liar around. So are his fans, whoopsy doodles y'all. If I have to cry over one more thing from ISPP I'm going to start singing "the world was wide enough" to tragic Hero x Warrior compilations when is the next con I need to hold Six Ears responsible and shake him for the sake of mental stability /j

CON TICKETS 🙌 🐟 @PeriodicTableOfMonkey replied 15:12 [Image ID: Warrior is sitting on a dark stage set surrounded by glass shards from the broken stage lights. There is a single lantern besides him giving off a purple glow directed towards the wall, and encircling where he sits. Shadow puppet animals appear half-melted on the stage or on the wall. Warrior is shaping his hands to project a shadow monkey on the wall, with Hero, Heir, and their friends on one side and the Enchantress on the other. The shadow monkey appears caught in between. The art is captioned "Monkey in the Middle."] CON TICKETS 🙌 🐟 @PeriodicTableOfMonkey replied 15:13 Okay usually I just ID photos, but now I kind of need meta about Warrior and the children's game monkey in the middle. because I am having THOUGHTS. Get Me Through Finals @taffyhero replied 15:15 omg...this is like Megumi's Chimera Shadow Garden. idk how I'm going to handle so much posting from LunarArts, I'm still thinking of the parallels between Hero's skeleton table with his past companions and Warrior dancing with a skeleton of Hero. do you see how specific it is to their coping. to the loss of their love language??? Yun Zhe @Lunar Arts tweeted 15:17 Hehe yeah. Hero's love language is food. The dining table symbolizes companionship. I should've added some cardboard boxes to show him bottling up his past based on what Heir said about the mural's destruction but I forgot oops. And Warrior dancing with the past, dancing with death itself, idk something to be said there. He's got only Hero, while Hero had others. Anyways, why can't I edit tweets on here...like YES I said there's a thousand hands to catch Hero once, but not one of them can take his hand. Except maybe Heir, because that means someone can finally catch up to him, feel like his equal, and for the longest time, it was only Warrior who was his 2nd half, do you get it. It's not enough to support him, there will always be some kinds of relationships missing for Hero. Places nobody else can fill. You can be surrounded by people yet still be lonely. It's human nature to have different kinds of relationships with all kinds of folks. Each person in your life holds a different key to you.

🎥 ispp_twt-central follow

more Lunar Arts

source: twitter

🥔 hakuna_patatas

god their art is so 🥺 ough

🪽 icarus-withstyle reblogged

#lmao mood #papa 🤝 me: losing the words to admire lunar arts properly #unreality #lmk 6earm4c au #hakuna_patatas character tag

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ayo-wheres-the-pxprika · 3 years

Text

vincent sinclair’s s/o doing his eyeliner

summary: vincent gets the rodrick heffley treatment (with your help)

vincent x gn! reader | scenario

word count: 1,517

warnings: none, really. reader is gender neutral but wears makeup, and your eyeshadow palette got some questionable names lmao

~ ♡ ~

“Gah... shit.” You cursed under your breath, glaring at yourself in the small vanity mirror. You took a look at your makeup job, comparing the two wings drawn on your eyes: the left one at the perfect angle, but much too thin, and the other drawn with a perfect fluid stroke, but angled much too low.

Maybe if you just... went over the line again...?

Maybe that would fix it...

Careful, careful...

Oop, look at that, now it’s too thick.

You let out a groan loud enough to catch Vincent’s attention, who was tending to his latest wax figure close by. Noticing him shift at the corner of your eye, you turned to see him looking at you over his shoulder, clearly interrupted by your sudden (and amusing) groan of defeat.

“Ah, sorry Vin,” You spoke, raising a hand at him, “just... can’t get this wing right for my life.” Your attention was back on the mirror, eyes glaring back into your own as you mentally criticized your own work. It was usually much easier than this... maybe it was the lighting in the workshop? Or perhaps you were just not cooperating with yourself that day? Whatever the reason was, you were annoyed.

Your little self-chastising session was interrupted by Vincent appearing at your side, staring curiously at you and your makeup splayed out on the bed, even going as far as to inspect the labels on your stuff. He had abandoned his project and was now more curious to find out whatever the fuck “Better Than Sex” mascara was supposed to be.

“Please tell me you have some makeup experience?” You ask half-jokingly, “Maybe you could do it for me.” He responds with a small chuckle and a head shake.

Vincent was an absolute chad when it came to art -- I mean, look at his wax exhibit. Look at his sketchbook, look at those “WIPS” that look like they belong in museums. You will never forget the time when he was fussing and moaning over a so-called “horrible sketch”, only to show you the most photorealistic drawing of a pineapple you had ever seen -- but with makeup, he’d be the first to admit that he knew next to nothing about it.

However, that didn’t mean that it never peaked his interest. He had seen many women, and even some men, pass through town with impressive makeup looks. Eyes decorated with various shades, lips smeared with red or pink, skin carefully painted to appear clean and unblemished -- makeup was an art of itself, and Vincent was curious to learn more.

While cleaning off your unsuccessful eyeliner attempt, you watched Vincent look through your pile of cosmetics with gentle hands, giggling as he took in an interest in your large eyeshadow palette consisting of various vibrant colours (hey y/n, why is this shade called “sloppy toppy”?).

An idea suddenly came to mind... “Vincent, have you ever worn makeup before?”

You were met with a head shake.

“... do you maybe wanna change that?”

His head perked up. You couldn’t read his expression with the mask on, but you could see his one eye blinking at you.

“I’m just not cooperating with myself right now, I was thinking maybe I’d do a better job on someone else’ face...?”

No response just yet.

“I could really use the practice anyway...”

Silence.

“... I can make you look cool...”

You could’ve sworn you saw his eyebrow raise.

“... it would make me really happy?”

Alright, now he’s nodding.

You cleared the bed with a happy squeal, dumping your supplies in an unflattering pile by your side. Vincent sat crisscross-applesauce on the bed before staring at you, a noticeable glint in his eye. What a cutie.

There was a few moments of awkward silence as you both just stared expectantly at each other before you finally spoke, “Uh, Vinnie, I’m gonna need you to remove the mask.”

Luckily, you and Vincent have already crossed that bridge and he complies without too much hesitance. Though, that doesn’t stop him from tilting his head down when he places the mask beside him, allowing a couple strands of dark hair to obscure the scarred half of his face.

You place a hand on his chin and lift his face, giving him a reassuring warm smile, “Aw, there he is.” You coo, lightly ‘booping’ his nose with your finger, to which he responds with a scrunched nose, a sheepish smile and flushed cheeks.

Well, here you are. You got Vincent Sinclair, unmasked, sitting in front of you, allowing you to do his makeup... what do you do?

The options are endless, my friend...

For now though, you were focused on perfecting your eyeliner skills. The colorful drag makeup and SFX were gonna have to wait. Vincent in eyeliner sounded like a dream. His long dark hair, handsome face, and looming figure, paired with dark eye makeup would certainly be an appealing sight.

“What are you gonna do?” He signed.

Oh, Vincent... you knew exactly what to do.

Since this was his first time wearing eye makeup, you wanted to keep it fairly simple, but still eye-catching. All you needed was a black pencil liner, black eyeshadow, and some mascara.

You went to work, finding it much easier than you had anticipated; you managed to draw the perfect wing on his eye and dragged it down about halfway across his bottom lash line. Once that was finished, you carefully went over it with eyeshadow to prevent smudging and blended them together to create the perfect fade into his skin.

Vincent had been very patient throughout the process, appreciating how gently you treated him. He loved how you held his face with careful hands and made an effort to be soft with him. Even when you were almost stabbing his eye with the mascara wand, he tried not to twitch too much or complain.

You finished with a smile and a breathy “alright”, and leaned back to get a good look at your final product...

… you paused.

Now, you had been so caught up in the process that you didn’t exactly pay attention to Vincent himself. Sure, you had focused on drawing the perfect lines to compliment his eyes, but you never actually stepped back and took a good look at him at any point. Too busy fussing over the details to take in the bigger picture.

You stared.

Oh man.

He looked good.

Heat rushed to your face.

Oh no...

... he’s HOT.

You sat, eyes gazing into his, with your mouth slightly ajar, “Oh...” was all you could say.

Yeah, “oh...” is right. Sweet merciful heavens.

Vincent shifted under your dumbfounded stare, immediately assuming the worse. Did he look bad? Oh shit, maybe makeup just wasn��t for him?

“Vincent, you look...” you finally spoke, “...babe, you’re hot.”

That made him freeze up. “Hot”? Him? Wow... has he ever been called “hot” before? Usually Bo’s the one that gets compliments like that. Did you really find him that attractive?

“You look so good, Vinnie!!” You beamed, raising the mirror to let him have a look, “Look at you, oh my god?”

(y/n), bro, please, the man’s about to have a short circuit-- oh wait.

He did a double take at his reflection.

Huh... oh damn... shit, okay, maybe you were right.

Sure, it wasn’t much, just a smoky border around his eye with a little wing; but it made one hell of a difference to him.

He adjusted his long black hair, noticing how well it complimented his look. He bore a resemblance to those handsome goth guys he sees every once in a while; their dark hair, audacious style, and daring looks in their eyes. Or maybe like those mysterious vampiric men in horror films, with long capes and smiles flashing razor sharp teeth.

He felt an unfamiliar sense of satisfaction with himself begin to blossom. Was it confidence? Maybe he should start walking around like this? Wait no, no, that would mean going out without his mask... maybe he could do both? Oh, but he also wanted to show off the fantastic job you did.

Your giggling snapped him out of his stupor, he didn’t realize he was practically checking himself out right in front of you. Not only was it amusing, it was also incredibly endearing; you knew how critical Vincent was of his looks, specifically his face. To see him like this was a step in the right direction, even if it was only for a short amount of time.

“I’ll take that as a good sign?” You smiled, not only at finally conquering your cosmetics and doing a damn good job, but also at your stunning boyfriend. Confidence was a good look on him. He deserved to feel positively about himself for once, “Maybe when you’re ready, we can show you off to Bo and Lester.”

“Don’t even think about it.” He signed, but his frequent glances back at the mirror told a different story.

Never underestimate the power of a couple black lines drawn on your eyes.

~ ♡ ~

(a/n) me writing vincent like “i’m going to create a man that is so queercoded and worthy of happiness”

#house of wax #house of wax 2005 #vincent sinclair #slashers #slasher fandom #slashers x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #slasher imagines #slasher scenarios #sinclair brothers #ayo where's the writing

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sagurus · 3 years

Text

Regarding a Common Misconception of Hakuba Saguru

Lately I've been doing some reflecting on Saguru & the various ways I've seen him portrayed, as well as the ways I've portrayed him in the past. And then I was rereading some MK manga, and had some realizations. I've been feeling like rambling about them! So here I go, rambling.

[Disclaimer: I'm not personally taking issue with anyone's interpretation or impression of Saguru - just sharing my own impressions! This is just for fun <3 ]

Misconception: Saguru is constantly accusing Kaito of being KID

It’s a generally accepted fact in a lot of fics I’ve read (and honestly, maybe some fics I’ve written -- I used to hold this belief too!) that Saguru just unendingly insinuates that Kaito is KID--alone, in front of other people, always.

I won’t cite any here, but I’ve seen nods in fanwork to Aoko feeling a little stressed/frustrated about the fact that Saguru thinks Kaito is KID and makes it known. I’ve also seen fanwork where Saguru explicitly calls Kaito KID, presses Kaito for information, or otherwise makes his beliefs clear, even when others are around.

There are only five scenes in the Magic Kaito manga where Saguru makes direct indication toward his knowledge of KID’s identity.

First, of course, we’ve got chapter 17 - the first chapter where Saguru puts together that Kaito is KID.

For a long time, when I’d consumed more fic than MK canon, I recall an image born in my head of Saguru singling Kaito out in class and making the claim that Kaito is KID in front of everybody. I don’t know if I ever read any such allusion in a fic, or if it’s just an assumption I drew based on portrayals I read, but imagine my surprise when he does nothing of the sort.

Now, to be fair, Saguru is A LOT in this chapter. MK is still heavily in gag manga territory, so his behavior is extra extra played up. But if we take away the visuals, the dialogue between Saguru and Kaito can be summed up thusly:

[First scene where Saguru makes direct indications as to KID’s identity]

Kaito: You look so tired. Haven’t gotten enough sleep after chasing KID for three nights In a row, huh?

Saguru: Hmph. Aren’t you tired as well?

And then, a few beats later in the conversation:

Saguru: I’d like to invite you to the Ochima Art Museum tonight, where KID’s declared his next target. Kaito: Eh? Saguru: Then, you’ll understand why I’m so tired. Or, do you have other plans tonight? Kaito: Okay, I accept your invitation. It’ll be great to see your work in action!

And that’s it, that’s the big class confrontation. Aoko is present for it, but she’s more interested in joining in on the fun, and while I do think Aoko pieces together that Kaito is KID, she prefers to live in willful ignorance of it until it becomes impossible for her to ignore. She’s bright enough to pick up what Saguru’s implying, but because he never brings it past implication, there’s no reason for her to look at it too hard. Anyway, I digress. That’s conjecture and headcanon talking. My point is that Saguru never makes any explicit claims, just invites Kaito along to the heist.

Another neat thing about this scene is that--while certainly not motivated by mercy in this case, Saguru does give Kaito an out: “Or, do you have an excuse not to go tonight?” Of course, if Kaito took it, it would be rather damning, but I do think it would have been enough confirmation for Saguru. I don’t think there would have been any arm-twisting to get Kaito to agree.

But Kaito and Saguru are competitive bastards, so here we are.

Let’s move on to the heist!

Once again, the manga certainly plays up the whole ordeal. Saguru is intense and waiting for his moment, and Kaito’s being, well, Kaito.

At the heist, there are a few points where Saguru has opportunities to make allusions to Kaito being KID in a way others would pick up on, or otherwise make his suspicions known, but he doesn’t.

First of all, is this exchange:

Nakamori: Why are you guys here? Aoko: Hakuba-kun invited us! Nakamori: What’s the meaning of this, Hakuba-kun? Saguru: I thought she might like to see if KID is arrested tonight. Nakamori: You’ll fail if you’re too cocky! Saguru: We’re well-prepared. Besides, who knows… KID may already be here.

Saguru does imply KID could be present, but he makes no indication that he means Kaito. His next opportunity to hint at Kaito being KID or otherwise make accusations is when Nakamori asks him to consult as a magician.

Nakamori: Kaito, since you’re here, do you want to use your magic against KID? Kaito: [laughing sheepishly] Saguru: Oh, I want to see that fight, too. If you really can do it.

Needling, yes. Saguru knows what he’s saying and so does Kaito. Accusations, no. This is well within the realm of something Saguru would have said even if he didn’t suspect Kaito, considering their dynamic up until this point.

And then, the most explicit Saguru ever gets in terms of literally calling Kaito out as being KID, beginning when Kaito excuses himself to go to the bathroom right before the heist:

[Second scene where Saguru makes direct indications as to KID’s identity]

Saguru: [handcuffs himself to Kaito] Kaito: Huh? Saguru: I won’t let you do that, Kuroba. Kaito: What do you think you’re doing?! Saguru: I got the report back from the lab. The hair I got from KID indicated that he’s a high school student. After I compared KID’s data with other high school students’ data in the database… Kuroba Kaito came up in the final list. Kaito: That’s a coincidence. Saguru: Really? We’ll see soon enough. Let’s wait until the time KID is stated to come. [Some heist hubbub occurs as officers get into position even though KID hasn’t arrived at the heist time] Aoko: What? KID’s not coming? Saguru: Ha! It looks like I win! You’d better confess who you really are.

And from there, of course, ‘KID’ (Akako in disguise) swoops in and takes care of the heist. That more or less wraps up chapter 17, the first chapter where Saguru understands that Kaito is KID. And I would argue this is the most aggressive Saguru ever is. In fact, rather than persist in trying to accuse/capture/implicate Kaito as KID, he straight up vanishes from the narrative for several chapters.

Saguru doesn’t show up again until the Chat Noir heist, in chapter 25, when he calls from France.

It’s also important to note that at this point, Magic Kaito’s narrative has experienced a slight tonal shift. At the very least, while still often comedic, it reads less like a gag manga. Between the last time we saw Saguru and now, we’ve learned the apparent motivation behind Toichi’s murder, we’ve met Snake (an albeit rather incompetent villain) and Kaito has faced down gunfire and the danger posed by Snake and his men.

The way Saguru is portrayed has also shifted to reflect the shift too. Instead of a hulking antagonist-like character in a Holmes cosplay, he’s dressed primly and presents more as a cheeky but polite character. He’s also more effectively emulating the charm that the story tried to imply he had early on (“Hakuba Saguru, at your service!”, the girls in class fawning over him, the newspaper calling him out as a famous detective making a long-awaited return to Japan).

The interaction is entirely less antagonistic, too. For reference, I’ll paste the exchange (sans Saguru’s massive info dump) below.

[Third scene where Saguru makes direct indications as to KID’s identity]

[At the heist for the golden eye] Kaito: [Hiding in a bathroom stall while putting on a disguise] [His phone starts ringing] Hello…? Saguru: Hi, it’s been a while. Are you still alive? Kaito: [Thinking] This sugary yet obnoxious tone of voice is... Hakuba?! Saguru: You’ve made quite the stir in Paris. They’re all talking about how France’s Chat Noir is going to go up against you in Japan. Kaito: Idiot! It’s not me. It’s Kaitou KID! Saguru: Ha… it doesn’t really matter. I’ll share some information that I gathered over here. [Info dump cut from dialogue] Well! That’s about all I have to say. Do your best. I don’t want to see you lose to anyone until I capture you myself. Kaito: Like I’ve been saying, I’m not KID! Saguru: Oops, it’s almost time for the Paris Fashion Week. See you! Kaito: H-hey…

The only part of this conversation that I could consider to fall into the territory of antagonistic is when Saguru says “I don’t want to see you lose to anyone until I capture you myself.” And more than anything, I think this is less reflective of a real desire to capture Kaito, and more reflective of his competitive nature. Not to mention, within the context of the conversation, it feels much more like teasing than anything.

Saguru’s motivation for making the call is clear: He doesn’t want Kaito to lose, and he wants to help ensure Kaito’s success.

And most interestingly (although I’d like to see the raw manga to confirm this, or otherwise a more literal translation) he never explicitly calls Kaito KID either. Outside of alluding to KID’s actions, Saguru doesn’t explicitly say Kaito is KID or mention KID at all. It’s Kaito who does that.

When Kaito points out that he is not, in fact, KID, Saguru doesn’t argue. He simply brushes off the denial and shares the information he’s collected.

So, to summarize what we’ve covered so far: after Saguru failed to arrest Kaito during chapter 17, he stopped troubling Kaito so thoroughly that the next time he features in the story isn’t until he’s calling from overseas to try to lend Kaito some helpful information. He’s not even playing a part in trying to capture this thief he allegedly wants to catch.

And then, Saguru dips back out of the narrative, although for a shorter period this time. The next arc he appears in is a few chapters later--the Nightmare Heist which he arrives in the middle of. But, there’s not any interaction between him and Kaito, nor any allusions made by Saguru about KID’s identity, so we’ll move on.

The fourth time Saguru makes any indication that Kaito is KID is during the Corbeau arc, when KID is being challenged by a clad-in-black KID lookalike.

Before jumping into that specific scene, though, there’s another interaction I’d like to call attention to--between Saguru and Nakamori. Not because of something Saguru says, but because of what he doesn’t say.

Nakamori: Hahaha! Looks like you let your guard down because you thought I was at home with a cold! Saguru: Our plan succeeded, it seems. Nakamori: But I only told Aoko I had a cold, so how does KID know…? Saguru: Hm...

If Saguru were wanting to make some kind of accusation, even a non-explicit one, he would have made some remark. Instead, he doesn’t say anything at all, which continues to speak to the fact that he isn’t really interested in implicating Kaito.

Anyway, the next time Saguru makes any sort of implication that Kaito is KID he is, once again, trying to help. Last time it was over the phone, so the conversation was private. This time, the conversation is in a classroom, although based on the panels, it seems like Saguru and Kaito are alone at the beginning--or at least, no attention is being paid to them.

[Fourth scene where Saguru makes direct indications as to KID’s identity]

Kaito: [Talking to himself] It must be the case, there’s no other way. There must have been some trick with the case.

Saguru: [Eavesdropping, apparently alone in the room with him] The case didn’t contain any hidden mechanisms. Kaito: Eh? Saguru: No hidden doors or things like that, as are often used in magic tricks. Kaito: W-what on earth are you talking about? Saguru: A new notice from Corbeau arrived this morning. ‘I’ll come and take the real Midnight Crow tonight.’ My name is Hakuba--so I don’t want a ‘white’ person to lose to some ominous black crow. [From here, Akako and then Aoko jump into the conversation.]

Surely a classroom is a risky place to have a conversation about KID, but the nice thing is that Saguru--once again--doesn’t bring up KID at all beyond saying that he doesn’t want the ‘white[-clad] person’ to lose to the black crow. From the outside looking in, all he’s doing is sharing information about the case with Kaito. It may also seem unwarranted from that perspective, but not at all implicating.

Also, another thing I’d like to call attention to is that when Akako joins the conversation (and seemingly blindsides Saguru, as if he wasn’t expecting anyone else to join), Saguru stops talking. He continues to be quiet when Aoko chimes in, and he doesn’t have any relevant dialogue for the rest of the scene.

Once again, Saguru’s clearly motivated to share information in the interest of helping Kaito. He has to share with Kaito’s civilian identity, since he can’t exactly arrange a conversation with KID, and this is likely the easiest way for him to do it. He makes no accusations, and this time he doesn’t even imply he wants KID caught.

So--Saguru is a part of the narrative again, but since rejoining the narrative he seems less interested in actually catching KID and far more interested in helping Kaito. And no accusations or incriminating allusions have been made since chapter 17, before Saguru’s first hiatus from the story.

The final time Saguru nods to Kaito being KID is from the Sun Halo arc. This is probably the interaction that’s closest to what fanon tends to depict when it comes to Saguru making subtle accusations that Kaito is KID. And even then, I tend to take this arc with a grain of salt if only because it felt less like Gosho was trying to add to the story and more like he was just trying to make a Magic Kaito addition that hit various fan expectations while still being wildly disappointing, lmao.

[Fifth scene where Saguru makes direct indications as to KID’s identity]

Saguru: [approaching and commenting on Kaito’s motorcycle] I see, a Suzuki GSX 250R. Akako: Ah, Hakuba-kun… Saguru: You’ve shown me something interesting. Perhaps this might help the police tonight. And could it be that you’ve forgotten… that the only motorised bikes we’re allowed to ride to school are scooters? Kaito: Eh?! For real?!

Once again, Saguru doesn’t explicitly mention KID at all--and segues from his mention of the police to pointing out that Kaito is breaking the rules right now, actually, which helps blend this teasing comment into the conversation.

Yes, later in the chapter Saguru does show up with a team of motorcycle experts. But that also means there’s more disguise opportunities for KID and more factors to account for, thus complicating things for, well, everyone--not just KID.

Also, I tend to dismiss that as Gosho throwing in some comedy, and as less to do with Saguru’s character. Call it cherrypicking if you like :P

To recount--there are five times where Saguru implies Kaito is KID.

The first two are in chapter 17, when Saguru first puts it together, and it is during this chapter that he gets the most explicit about calling Kaito out as KID, as well as the most aggressively he behaves about it. And he backs off so hard after that doesn’t work, that we don’t see him for several chapters.

The next two times he implies Kaito is KID are both in order to help him. No aggression or accusations, just the sharing of information. Even when teasing or suggesting he’s interested in catching KID, he’s good-natured about it, and when he realizes there are potentially people witnessing the conversation, he stops participating.

The final time he implies Kaito is KID is a tiny comment about finding something Kaito has shown him ‘interesting’ and ‘helpful for the police’ before smoothing into gently teasing Kaito for bringing an illegal vehicle to school.

In conclusion, Saguru may start off apparently aggressive in part thanks to early Magic Kaito’s overall tone, but rather than persevering in trying to catch Kaito after cornering him in chapter 17, he actually seems to back off. Once he’s playing a part in the narrative again, when he interacts with Kaito it’s almost exclusively to help him. Yes, he is on the task force and participating at heists, but where it matters, he’s less interested in catching the thief and far more interested in those the thief is opposing (excluding the police force).

#hakuba saguru #saguru hakuba #dcmk #magic kaito #meta #nefrit talk

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inktheblot · 3 years

Note

📓 👀

Like I'm sure many of us have, I've thought about several potential "next summer in GF" scenes, mostly focusing on relationships that didn't get too much time in the series proper (Mabel and the girls inviting Pacifica to one of their sleepovers for the first time, Ford going on a fishing trip with Fidds and Tate, Soos and Melody's anniversary, The Epic Stan And Wendy Heist We Were Robbed Of: Pun Intended...)

The most fully formed idea I had was for a whole "episode" with a Ford & Mabel A-Plot and a Stan & Dipper B-Plot.

Maybe Soos and Melody are away for the weekend, and then Stan drags Dipper along on some legally dubious errand, which leaves Ford and Mabel to fend for themselves in the Shack. Mabel decides to seize the opportunity to have some rare one-on-one time with her second Grunkle and invites him to bake something with her -- some part of her figures intuitively (correctly) that Ford would want to interact with her (a) she's a more social creature than himself, and might not be content to simply work on a project by herself in silence as long as he would; b) he does also want to get to know her better one-on-one; and c) children require active supervision and attention, oops) but wouldn't know what to say to initiate and wouldn't be thrilled about just Small-Talking It Out. Having an activity to do together breaks that ice and also gives the old nerd a challenge/chance to show off ("I can't say I've made triple-decker banana nut gummy worm muffins before, but on a fundamental level, baking is just edible chemistry -- how hard could it be?").

On both sides of the story we have mostly humorous hijinks, with an underlying layer of "I'm not really sure how to address you on an emotional level right now, even though you're someone who's deeply important to me, so I'm going to rush headlong into your shenanigans, which I do thoroughly enjoy, maybe even more than I expected, and hope that that's enough to convey my feelings", up until the first "commercial break". In "Act II" the Anomaly Of The Week appears, summoned by the specific formula of Mabel and Ford's now-smoking kitchen concoction. Ford is kicking himself -- how could he have let such crucial information slip his mind, he's getting sloppy, he's let himself relax too much, he's weak, he can't even talk to his great-niece, let alone protect her... Despite Mabel's protests, he throws himself headfirst into the fight.

Meanwhile, Stan and Dipper have successfully made their getaway with their sad clown pop-art prints or what have you, laughing and wheezing for breath as they pull over the Stanleymobile in a safe spot in the woods. They're joking and teasing and play-punching each other when all of a sudden, Stan trails off and his gaze turns confused and unfocused. For a minute, Dipper thinks he's being pranked, but soon it becomes clear that his Grunkle is in fact having a memory lapse. Ford had warned the family, in quiet, cautious tones, that it was a possibility; that Stanley had been lucky to survive at all, let alone without any sort of side effects; that he'd already seen it happen a time or two, but they hadn't been severe, and it hadn't taken long to put him to rights, so don't panic. But Dipper hadn't imagined he'd have to handle such a thing by himself, not to mention miles from the ideally easy fix of the Stan O' War II's ship's log or Mabel's scrapbook. So at first, panic is exactly what he does, until it's clear that it's Not Helping (at which point it becomes, uh, more of a Panic On The Inside).

So that parallel thread comes to a head in the form of these unexpected catastrophes being the catalyst for those emotional conversations that hadn't been able to come to the surface yet. Though Ford rushes in to fight off the creature, believing he's singlehandedly responsible for protecting Mabel and the Shack, Mabel easily tames it herself in a creative, compassionate manner ("You're not you when you're hungry!™️"). Ford then has the perfect opportunity to express his admiration for Mabel's social skills as well as the other brilliantly unorthodox solutions for unruly cryptids she'd added to his Journal. Remembering rare monsters' feeding habits was one thing, but even worse, how could he have forgotten that his great-niece was more than capable -- after all, it was she who had punched a unicorn in the face and won! So Mabel gets the bonding she was craving with an unexpected side of affirmation and encouragement, and in turn Ford is reminded that the self-sacrificial shame he bears is unwarranted, that each of the Pines and friends have their own strengths and they have the most success (in monster hunts or otherwise) when they trust each other and work as a team. They return to their baking adventure with the knowledge that they have more to talk about, and more in common, than it may appear on the surface.

And Dipper, when the easy solutions aren't available, and trying to "tough it out" doesn't work, and there's no feasible way he can drive or drag Stan back to the Shack himself, gives in to his emotions, the despair of the moment plus everything else he hasn't known quite when or how to say. All his love and appreciation for his Grunkle, in those words, and the fact that the most valuable thing he taught him wasn't how to throw a proper punch or how to talk back to bullies or how to distract someone running a yard sale but to always put his family first, no matter what you might look like or what you might lose. And that, of course, is the ticket: Stan slowly comes back to life, and rather than brushing off the sentiment or replying with a choke-hold as he might have a year ago, he can fully return it. "Love ya too, kid."

Close on all four, sitting in front of the TV, with some new bizarre artwork on the walls, chowing down on some only mildly exploded dessert-for-dinner. All is well. ❤️

#thank u rin!!#replies #ariasofelegance #tbh i just accidentally fleshed this one plot out more in the last half hour than i have in the last 3 years LOL #hence the cut; this turned out longer than i expected #lee is a sap dot txt #if anyone else wants to borrow from any of these concepts then by all means go ham #gravity falls #my fic

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 years

Text

little birdie, m | myg

pairing(s): yoongi x reader

summary: The cat has asked the little birdie to make an appearance. You have been turning down private dances, preferring to focus on the art and glamour of the burlesque shows themselves. Besides, old money was entitled, twice your age, and, worst of all, ugly, inside and out. But Min Yoongi doubled his original offer and, well, he is new money.

these events occurred prior to twelve hours, m | jjk

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; reader is a burlesque dancer, caged bird performance based on Dita Von Teese; smut (fem reader, slight D/s dynamics, tiny bit of striptease, red lipstick kisses on nether regions (oop), m-receiving oral); non-idol!AU - cocky, rich!Yoongi x wealthy, burlesque dancer!reader; a little drabble based on this ask

He cocked an eyebrow at you, holding the handle of the leather crop in between his perfect white teeth.

You cocked one back, covered in diamonds, rubies, and red feathers.

The room was silent except for breathing.

These walls were soundproof.

You leaned forward, lids lowered, staring at those dark brown, cat-like eyes through your lashes, your tongue extending, the warmth of his skin and his breath against your lips. You licked the handle. His pink tongue flickered out, brushing against yours.

Instant electricity.

You retreated sharply, eyes narrowing.

“You were instructed not to touch, Min Yoongi.”

The man in the expensive designer clothes tilted his head at your cold tone, not responding. He surveyed you calmly, hint of a smirk around the leather crop, his hands behind his back. Primly tailored black vest with black satin piping with matching slacks. Silk handkerchief, cobalt blue, matching his silk shirt with the subtle checkered pattern and designer logo stitched into the squares, tone on tone. Despairingly expensive, but not gaudy or over the top. Didn’t need to be. The sheen in his black hair indicated it was pampered and well taken care of. The shine of his black oxfords indicated real leather. The strength and potency of his spiced cologne made him smell like the pure sex he was from presence alone.

Behind you, your two bodyguards stood side by side, sunglasses on, unmoving.

You agreed to this private dance when Yoongi said he was willing to pay double the initial amount he offered.

New money really spent it on the dumbest shit.

You leaned forward again, watching him carefully. You were wearing long opera-style gloves made of a lush red sparkling fabric, embellished with intricate stitching.

Lifted your hand, turning it around, palm up.

“Drop.”

He only moved his lower jaw, the leather handle falling from his lips and right into your palm.

You flicked your wrist and ran the crop up the inside of his thigh, forcefully spreading his knees with one of yours, narrowing your eyes, nicking the flared end against his crotch.

Lesser man would have jumped away.

Min Yoongi was not a lesser man.

He confidently spread his legs and tipped his head back, black hair falling over one eye, smirk on those shapely pink lips. He didn’t speak or make a sound. It was disconcerting but somehow intriguing in its own way.

As if he didn’t need to speak to indicate confidence in his position.

He was a caged bird in this private room, willingly trapped by you.

You smiled.

Fitting, for the theme of your burlesque show tonight had been a large steel birdcage at the center of the stage and you inside it, dancing within the visible enclosure, skillful hands holding onto the metal bars, lush hips swaying to ruffle the feathers attached to create a half-skirt that mimicked tailfeathers of an exotic bird. You were still wearing some of the pieces now, the lingerie, the tailfeathers, and the heavy necklace of diamonds and rubies splayed out on your collarbones and chest.

You slid onto Yoongi’s lap, closing his legs with yours, entering the alluring aura that seemed to surround him, trapping the leather crop between your crotch and his. Slow exhale, mixing with his as he lowered his chin to look you in the eye, unafraid.

“Hello, little birdie.”

You did not typically touch the men you danced for. They were usually old, crass, and undeserving of your touch. You treated it as business because that was what it was. A simple service for money. Nowadays, you cut back on the private dancing and upped your price. It just wasn’t worth it, being so close to such filth.

But.

Every once in a while.

Sometimes, you got young money like Min Yoongi.

You dragged the crop up his abdomen, up his chest, shifting your arm in a graceful swoop, turning it so it grazed his cheek, outlining that high cheekbone and elegant jaw. You stared into his eyes and he stared back, open-mouthed smirk on his lips, not backing down.

Sometimes, you got someone fuckable like Min Yoongi.

“Do you think you’re in charge here, Yoongi?” you murmured dangerously.

He ticked his head.

“I’m usually in charge everywhere I go,” he chuckled. Deep, husky voice edged with amusement. “It’s very tiring being the king and the boss all the time.”

Slow blink, piercing gaze on you with a wry smile.

“I would like to have a break from that.”

You sucked in a breath.

Min Yoongi was more than fuckable.

He was going to get fucked, tonight, by you.

You closed the distance, swiping the flared end of the crop against his lips, pressing inward, taking in his smooth fair skin, his even breath, his calm demeanor, and suddenly you wanted to mess it up, you wanted to tear down this placid façade and find what was underneath, find the passion and desire you could see shimmering in those dark brown orbs, challenging you to draw it out.

“Do you understand the position you’re in, Min Yoongi?”

He chuckled, voice low and smooth.

“Little birdie and her two shadows, I understand very well and I know how to keep my mouth shut.”

Damn.

He was good.

You tossed the leather crop to the floor and captured his lips, inhaling his cologne and his scent.

Yoongi did not move his arms, devouring your lips, hungry and intense, deft tongue flickering, testing the boundaries, and you pushed your tongue into his mouth, winding with his, hot and fluid and lustful, your hands sliding up his chest and reaching his shoulders, fingers one by one falling into place, sliding your lower body up to his, sucking in his breath, heat to hardness, your body heavier from all the jewels, but Yoongi seemed unbothered, deepening the kiss and sucking on your tongue, humming contentedly.

Even though he said he wanted a break, old habits were even harder to break.

You broke the kiss forcefully, the immaculate waves of your hair tumbling down your shoulder, seeing the red lipstick smeared on those shapely, smirking lips, his eyes drifting to yours.

You lowered your arms, slowly curving your hand, pulling back your arms in one smooth arc, fingers splayed, shoulders back. Measured, slow breath, always on form, every movement a performance. He watched closely as you reached back, unhooking and unlacing the tailfeather skirt with expert precision, keeping eye contact. You didn’t need to look to undo it.

You didn’t need to look when you released it, knowing one of your bodyguards had already stepped forward to catch it, retreating to place it aside.

Yoongi smiled, dark eyes gleaming.

“An agile little birdie, I see.”

He did not need to verbalize your beauty or attractiveness.

You could see it in the way he looked at you.

Startling how lucky you were to have met such fuckable young money tonight.

You placed a gloved hand on his chest and slid one leg back, then the other, red soles clicking, tracing down his torso, kneeling now, dancing fingertips up and down his thighs, admiring them and letting him know with your gaze. Black hair over one eye again, small smile on his lips, and yet you noticed the pink tinge on his ears.

Interesting.

You retreated your hand.

Brought it to your lips.

One by one, tugging at the tips of each finger with your teeth, loosening the glove.

Dark brown orbs watched you, entranced and fascinated.

Gripping the middle finger with your other hand, tugging on the opera glove, sliding it off with one swift arc of your arm, bringing your hand behind your head as it came off, tossing the glove aside carelessly. Yoongi couldn’t see, but your hand was poised behind your head, always aware of even the unseen details, bringing the other glove to your lips and doing the same, one by one, loosening the tightness before your hand flourished out from behind your head and your arm mirrored the previous arc, into the air and behind your head, throwing the discarded glove in the opposite direction of the first. Yoongi watched with patient, precise interest, like a cat observing a bird.

He smiled appreciatively, enjoying the show.

It seemed precious, Yoongi’s smile.

A strange thought.

Painted red nails gliding up his thighs, following the shape, tracing the waistband, parted lips smeared with lipstick, the tremble of his body finally evident and, with a tight inhale, you realized you too were breathing shallowly, matching him, looking up to see his pupils dilating, his hands still behind his back.

Your index finger traced the fastening of his slacks.

Yoongi raised a dark eyebrow, questioning.

You undid it while staring at his face.

Lowered the zipper, having to lift it because of his straining erection, seeing Yoongi clench his jaw, legs tensing, shoulders shaking, watching your face, hands, the diamonds laden on your collarbones and cleavage, equally embellished bra and panties covering everything else, but it was impossible to deny, incapable to resist, inescapable sensuality between you and Yoongi, a stranger until tonight, a shadow in the crowd until this moment, now well defined by light and lust, raising his hips so you could lower his pants and boxer briefs to his knees, sitting in a heavy ornate chair in a private room with your bodyguards right behind you as you lowered your head and your lipstick-covered lips to his thigh.

Red kisses imprinted on that fair skin, shudders under your breath.

Travelling up to his hard length, tongue slipping out, tracing a fat stripe over hot, taut skin, your satisfied sigh melding with his soft hiss at the contact of your wet muscle to his hard, twitching cock.

You drifted your gaze back up to his, lazy and purposeful.

Yoongi looked down at the red lipstick kisses and his cock quivering against your warm breath, leisurely lapping at the underside of his length. His voice was a low octave, almost raspy.

“Little birdie…”

The first time he said it, it had been borderline mocking, but now there was a fondness to it. Admiration. Appreciation. Adoration.

It made your core burn and heat spread all over your lower belly, dripping between your legs.

Black hair over his eyes, breathing hard, maintaining eye contact.

“Please.”

Simple.

Effective.

Sexy.

You closed your mouth around the head of his cock, tongue lapping the underside, his scent invading your nose and your lipstick coating his skin, your fingers lacing over his hips, sliding that thick length down your tongue and into your throat, his soft moan drifting from his. He was losing control of his hands, slamming them down onto the seat of the chair and clutching the sides, manicured fingers tense, knuckles white. You tilted your head and ran the head against the curve of your teeth, heartbeat racing as you witnessed Yoongi gasping at the sensation, his broad shoulders flexing, his hips trembling in your grip, struggling to stay still.

Losing control.

Maybe he didn’t spend his money poorly after all.

You ticked an eyebrow and adjusted your head again, tongue extending past your lips, suffocating your throat with the swollen tip and cutting off your air, curling your tongue around his balls, scooping them up and pressing them to your lips, dripping saliva onto the seat, eyes on his the entire time, choking yourself on his cock and licking his balls with a blazing, intense stare. No need to say who was in charge because you knew it and he knew it, growling deep in his chest, shivering in his designer clothes from primal desire that required no such things.

You were the same, diamonds or not.

Lust feeding off lust, money or not, you probably would have fucked Yoongi regardless and you could see it in his eyes that he was thinking the same thing.

You pulled back and began your pace, swallowing his length hungrily, tongue all over the base of the head, stimulating the thin skin and his sensitive nerves, his breathing turning into involuntarily gasps.

Faster.

Rougher.

Tighter.

Finding that sweet spot, that moment where his expression changed and his irises were overtaken by black, mouth open and panting, locking his shoulders and his hips, feeling him throb in your constricting mouth, just a little tighter to prolong his orgasm, making it a little more difficult so he had to chase it, his handsome face wincing, black strands fallen over his eyes, his body humming with energy and arousal, so close, you could see it, smell it, hear it, his suppressed hisses and darting eyes, taking in the whole image, your back, the curve of your ass, your hands on his thighs, fingers splayed out, your mouth on him, taking him there, there, earning his wanton moans and fluttering lashes, twitching hardness and then he threw his head back, neck straining against his buttoned collar, a perfect image, his hips bucking up, lost control, spilling into your throat with a sinful gasp, his chest prominent against the silk shirt and vest, begging to be freed from its confines.

You swallowed it all, savoring his strong taste, delicious as his body.

He lowered his head slowly, panting, his previously neatly combed hair messy now, cheekbones glowing with a faint sheen of sweat.

You licked him off just as slowly, finding his dark brown, cat-like eyes once more.

Yoongi smiled at you, cocking an eyebrow.

Your bodyguards would probably prefer you to stop here, but you had other plans.

You popped your mouth off, a drip of saliva snapping against your chin, rising, poised on red soles and leaning down, capturing that waiting smirk, one of your hands lifting to toy with the buttons on his vest. First undoing one. Then one more.

“Touch me,” you whispered.

Yoongi’s hands flew up and gripped your waist, promising all night.

Tonight was going to fun.

masterpost

#yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #bts smut #yoongi x you #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x you #min yoongi smut

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charmixpower · 2 years

Text

Rewatching season 1 (and actually paying attention to Sky to figure out what the fuck everyone is talking about): Part 6

EP 26:

Finally a barrier!!!

THE SPECIALISTS HAVE MAGIC GUNS AND MAGIC BOWS AND ARROWS FUCKING

Stella for being one of the most powerful people at this school is really anxious

Bloom should of been a school wide celebrity after this

Icy and Stormy are angry at Bloom's appearance, but Darcy looks scared/confused

No thoughts only "oohhh cool fight"

SERIOUSLY WHEN DID BLOOM LEARN A TELEPORTATION SPELL?!

Bloom is really just toying with Icy out of spite, honestly I love the enegry. This is her revenge

Tbh after the all of the Winx should be celebrities

This fight scene implies that the Winx combined, without Aisha and Bloom in s1, is as strong as God powers which is funny

Oop Icy her line art is white, your fucked

Bloom: did anyone order a murderous bitch?

Sky you don't deserve that kiss, you have yet to properly atone for the mindset that led you to the Diaspro situation. Come on man, give him SOME self reflection, as a treat

Bloom should of definitely had an alta style dilemma about killing Icy

Why is he asking Faragona and not Salidn?? He went to RF first

Lucy why are you being to mean to Mirta

Flora comforting her crush about Mirta's break up

Icy is so full of unquenchable rage

Stella: bye~ bye~💕💞

Faragona you just can't rename shit Winx, bestie—

Grisleda finally letting her hair down

Bloom is so upset about Daphne....she should be more upset- I'm a horrible person 💖💖

Ok but Sky rebuilding his trust with Bloom in s1 instead of this being a relationship thing would make me so happy

Final thoughts:

Bonus

Sky @ Riven and vice versa: self recognition though the other (derogatory)

And

I love it when the girls do the thing!! With the hands

#winx club #winx season 1 #winx riven #winx musa #winx bloom #winx stella #winx tecna #winx flora #winx sky #winx brandon #winx icy #winx darcy #winx stormy #winx trix #rus chatters #rus liveblogs

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mister13eyond · 2 years

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What would your concept (if possible) for a demon Diavolo look like?

Great news! I actually have a bunch of demon art I haven't posted over here yet, prepare yourself for a flood!!

I'm also actually gonna post a bunch of headcanons and thoughts under the cut, for posterity! I kind of Went The Fuck Off about this idea on twitter, NGL:

not to put sincere thought into my silly demon AU, BUT: here's headcanons about demon au

demons are beings from another plane who feed on human life, and who can be summoned and made contracts with through rituals. most demons are chaotic evil, with a FEW leaning towards chaotic neutral, but most of them see humans as food at worst and fun toys at best.

diavolo is among the highest ranked of all demons, with immense power at his disposal, but he is also notoriously hard to summon and disinclined to be bound to any contract whatsoever unless it appeals to him. he is wholly disinterested in humans and prefers to hoard his magic and keep it to himself.

doppio is pretty low-ranking because he's clumsy, unlucky, winds up getting into fruitless or absurd contracts often, and has an unfortunate fondness of humans. he doesn't see them as EQUALS or anything, but they're like cute little pets to him, or essentially Blorbo from his shows; he sticks around a bunch of unlucky contracts because he loves sitting back and observing humans do their funny little human things like he's watching TV. diavolo is immensely fond of doppio and dotes on him more than most other demons and is always cautioning him to be more thoughtful about who he allows to summon him, but doppio never seems to learn.

i haven't decided WHO summons them, but I think some Shenanigans happen and a botched summoning binds both Diavolo and Doppio to the same contract, and also winds up temporarily binding them to the same vessel for the duration of the contract (at least most of the time)

Demon bodies are 100% made of magic and shaped by the demon themself- some demons have a preferred form that they always take every time, others change their appearance to suit each contract and each human, but no matter what they need access to their own magical energy to shape their body. Whatever happens binds Diavolo to the human plane and cuts him off from the source of all his magical energy, so he has to piggyback around in Doppio's body until he can manage to stockpile enough energy to form his own vessel; and I think every time he manages to do so for a short time, Shenanigans Happen that cause him to need to use a lot of magic and he winds up back as a passenger in Doppio's body again after just a short time with his own vessel

TBH what i think the AU is like is like, equal parts kuroshitsuji and also devil is a part timer- doppio and diavolo have been summoned by someone who needs them to fulfill a very specific contract, part of which involves masquerading as a human

it's a lot of diavolo in doppio's mind like MY DOPPIO JUST EAT THEM, EAT THEM ALL, DRAIN THE BLOOD FROM THEIR BODIES DRAIN THE LIFE FROM THEIR EYES SLAUGHTER THEM AND FEAST DOPPIO while doppio is like, very sincerely trying to figure out how to go shopping or other human tasks

diavolo occasionally gathers enough energy up to manifest his own body, shows up, causes trouble, winds up using too much energy, gets poofed back into Doppio's body, and then has to remain a passenger unless he gets temporary control of doppio again

every time i play with concepts like angels and demons i always go far less biblical and far more "harem anime" and i think i am valid for that

i think most of the VA cast are humans, but Trish is definitely half-demon, born on one of diavolo's VERY rare contracts- donatella summoned him, he may have accidentally gotten a TEENY tiny bit invested in this ONE humand and was perhaps a LITTLE fond of her, don't tell anyone -and UH OH OOPS HE LEFT THIS HUMAN WOMAN WITH A SUPERNATURAL CHILD... Trish is very secretive about her half-demon status and pretends Very hard to be a normal human and oh what do you mean her eyes are glowing haha you didn't see that

Giorno is also definitely like, at least half angel

(I think in this case angels would simply be Another variety of magical beings that are very similar to demons, they simply *give* life rather than *take* it to survive- angels are able to produce life at will and grant it to humans at their discretion; you cannot summon an angel, you must be Chosen by one, and they are notoriously strange and incomprehensible in their selection and their whims, mostly because they- like demons- see humans as fun little entertainment and just pick their favorites to grant life and magic)

(this means giorno is a half-human that has a talent for imbuing things with extra life; he has an especially green thumb in the garden and definitely also plays it off like "haha what no i'm just good at growing things oopsie daisy")

OK OK HERE'S WHAT I'M THINKING

diavolo and doppio got summoned FULLY ON ACCIDENT by pericolo, who is just a nice old man who was trying to hire some help with his business and accidentally did an occult ritual while trying to hire a new employee

he botched it and now he has doppio, who is like Taking This Very Seriously And Going To Do A Very Good Job, and Diavolo, who is 1/2 "JUST EAT EVERYONE WHO COMES IN AND SLAUGHTER THEM SO WE CAN GO HOME, I TIRE OF THIS DOPPIO" but also sometimes gets caught up in his own egotism and desire to Prove His Worth and winds up scheming to Be The Best Employee And Show Those Foolish Puny Mortals How A Powerful Demon Does It

they get into a lot of hijinks and shenanigans, no i didnt just pitch another season of devil is a part timer what are you talking about

ok one more thread of thoughts before i slap my hands off they keyboard:

-tiziano and squalo are an angel (tiz) and demon (squalo) couple who have quietly settled down to live lives masquerading as humans, because tiz can grant life and squalo needs it to feed, they've achieved equilibrium and can exist sustaining each other indefinitely. this is, however, a controversial setup for two reasons:

-angels can produce enough life to keep a demon alive, but not enough to let them stockpile or build any magic, so any demon living off an angel's energy would essentially only be as powerful as a human, and lack any real magic

-by supplying a demon with constant life and power, angels too deplete their own reserves of life (it is a resource that needs time and effort to replenish, it's not constant and boundless) and thus ALSO would be weakened to the state of a human, more or less- most demons and angels agree this is an absolutely useless setup, but tiziano and squalo like living a quiet retired life as a married couple on earth just fine. they definitely end up involved in shenanigans somehow, probably because they detect a new demon on their turf, get ready to go kill him for threatening the quiet life they have here, and then see what's actually happening and find it adorable and "help" doppio with his contract (ie: get in the way and cause problems on purpose)

#demon au #diadop demon au #demon diadop #demondop #diavolo #diavolo jojo #myart #my art #demon doppio au #demon diavolo au #i have no consistent tag for it yet but there we go

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