#i'm back babyyyy

[blueumbriel]

Alright, let's shed some "light" to my whole story, yeah?

Kamusta na kayo! How are you?? The name's Jonina Marie Parker and I've been bitten by this glowing radioactive spider at this field trip one time? It was at some cool lab--doesn't matter for now, I think Scared tf out of me though, but on the "brighter" side, I got some neat abilities that allow me to be all spider-like so that's cool I guess!! And from then on, I've been the only glowing spiderperson in my world...at least, that was before I found myself being in a spider society. It's crazy how much of us there are! K is going to be giving me a whole tour later when she isn't being a literal torch at the mere touch. She's a little weird like that, but I find her cool. :D

Oh, and did I mention that I can also light up on command and possibly use light energy for so many things and in so many ways, like weapons for example?

More on that later!!

[explosivecarbonjelly]

Just breathe

[dragonairice]

YOU GUYS WILL NEVER GUESS WHAT I’M OBSESSED WITH AGAIN

[moon-ruled-rising]

The True and Harrowing Tale of Ser Jon the Dragon Heart | The Lovers

Chapter Five is up now!

[novelmachine]

Stars Fading But I Linger

Auron has been referred to as a “dreamer of dreams.” He has a passion for writing and creating stories. However, the Auron we know now is jaded and unmoved (or at least that’s the impression he wants to give off.) “Life has not been fair to any. Fairness is a dream conjured up by those naïve enough to believe we live in a world where things don’t have to be taken if you want them.” He rose to his current position through ambition and holds high standards for himself and those he surrounds himself with. This height of hubris may give us clues to where this character came from and where he's going.

Auron is associated with tower imagery. The most obvious is the large painting of a tower behind his desk, as seen in the Holiday Party episode. However, there are other mentions and hints of towers as well. Auron’s office appears to be high above the city, mimicking the lofty space. His listener is referred to as “Rook,” short for rookie. The rook chess piece resembles a tower. After their argument, Faust muses “I wonder, brother, from your ivory tower can you see anything down here? You’re so out of touch.” 

Around the world, tower’s are symbols of hope and promise. They signify wealth and act as waypoints as well. However in media, towers can evoke a sense of isolation, loneliness, and foreboding. They may also represent the hubris and ego of a character or group of characters. The tower card in tarot holds the meaning of “sudden change, upheaval, chaos, revelation, awakening,” as well as “unforeseen catastrophe.” (Also of note: The tower card immediately follows the devil in the major arcana. The devil is associated with “shadow self, attachment, addiction, restriction, sexuality,” in addition to “disruptive revelation.” This may tie into Faust’s “deal with the devil” that gets references a few times. Thought that was neat.)

Auron's entire operation is beginning to show cracks. His head of talent has been fired after several failed ventures, and both Derek and Jessie threaten the power he holds over his illegal activities. On top of that, Auron has closed himself off, an example of which is distancing himself from his coworkers during social gatherings. He is just now beginning to open up to Rook. Auron's cool veneer slips after a brief argument with his brother. He admits he has a habit of indulging in temptation behind closed doors, and during the ride home from dinner with Rook he states “I would choose me over everything else.”

These story beats parallel Source Finn’s struggles and current state of mind. Finn is overworked and under scrutiny by the highest power in his realm. He keeps himself busy with his duties as a steward, remaining isolated in his tower to continue his work. After he begins meddling with the Dreamers—an act which he reprimanded his partner for long ago—he can’t stop himself. Left to his own devices, Finn persists. Both are avoiding close relationships, and both became involved in the Bittersweet trio's unexpected Christmas roadtrip.

We can even take a step further into speculation territory. All of this can be used to make the argument that Auron has a strong connection to Finn and the magics he has been experimenting with; if not the Auron in the story at present, then a Source Auron prior to passing on to the world Bittersweet take’s place. He could have been responsible for creating or first discovering the garden of dreams that Finn continues to tend to. This would give greater gravity to him being a "dreamer of dreams" that created worlds with second chances. However, the responsibility or the effects of indulgence became too much, and eventually he became a dreamer himself. Maybe he was Finn’s predecessor, or maybe he was that fellow steward that worked alongside Finn, and all that remains now are unconscious memories of lost dreams and a tower that foreshadows inner and external turmoil.

Characters and scripts written by Yuurivoice

Artwork created by Jackie Eleanor

Sources (1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10)

[yukarishoodie]

Weekly Vocajournal #17: New Year's Edition (01/01 - 08/01)

315 - AkeOme ver. (ft. Aoki Lapis, Yuzuki Yukari)

Happy New Years, and the continuation of this series! Have a short little song with two bunnies for the first week of 2023.

Dopamine - Kamisama-chan (ft. Kaai Yuki)

Love hearing Yuki in heavier EDM! She compliments the heavy thumping trap drums perfectly. Short, catchy and impactful.

Kashuu Ryousuke/Natsu no Owari - Air Vent (ft. Yuzuki Yukari)

Their songs always bring the feeling of standing outside in a summer midday, and this time there's an air vent going off nearby. Yukari is distant and dry, like you're hearing her singing echo through a pipe. A laid-back vapor rock song with an undercurrent of waiting for something to happen.

A4。- The Flea Waltz。(ft. KAFU)

This came out just as I was writing this! Much more toned-down energy (for most of the song anyway, volume warning for the last ~40 seconds of the song) from their last vocalsynth song, but not mellow by any means. Having vflower support KAFU for the choruses was a wise choice, since I thought KAFU was underpowered in the choruses of the previous song.

もろこし_白神 - 霧燭灯命 (ft. ROSE)

First ROSE song I've heard, and she sounds pretty good! Then again I've always had a thing for lower-range feminine voices. Chill pianos and synths.

OZON Music - Fall with U (ft. Hatsune Miku)

It's been out on the album for a while, but I've been hoping for an official upload since the trailer dropped months ago and I'm not disappointed! I began listening to them for their brighter, more cheerful songs, but this is more than enough proof that they can pull off dark and coy.

Yakatora - ラッドペント (ft. Meika Mikoto, Meika Hime)

My first song by this producer, and it's a good impression! Fast-paced jazzy rock, something you might get if you blend SLAVE.V-V-R and Kariki Bear together. Some solid growls by the Meika twins too.

Other Cool Stuff:

Kaede Haruto - bobby (ft. Kaai Yuki)

r-906 - Soide, (ft. Hatsune Miku)

hikaru - Angry Hungry (ft. Fukase)

Usagi 3 - Bokura wa Nani mo Erabenai (ft. Kagamine Len)

nuyuri/Lanndo - Cray (ft. vflower)

Locust - Zero to Ichi (ft. Kagamine Rin)

natsuki aoya - Dokka~n! (ft. Hatsune Miku)

[re--ve--rie]

mspaint 1: you only ever show that look to me (and i pray it stays that way)

[whydoiexist1406]

I am not dead. Shocker, I know. A little update: over the past year or so I've almost been homeless about six times, which, unsurprisingly, really fucked up my motivation to write lmao.

Fear not, I'm in a much more stable situation right now, which hopefully stays that way, and with it returns my motivation to write.

To that one unfortunate soul who made a request of me, only for me to disappear, I sincerely apologize and hope you'll be glad to know I'm getting back on that because I've had ideas for it that I really like.

To the rest of those reading this, I've recently gotten into Wincest so if you don't like that then block the tag or block me lmao cuz I really wanna write for it. I'm still writing for jeresquip and waltjesse though, so if you're here for that then stick around.

Thank you for reading, and again I apologize for such a long hiatus!

[pondunderscore]

//gore, maggots

WILLIAM WISP.

[thesherrinfordfacility]

the thing that is actually making me giddy with the possible angst is that i really think that we are about to see the most monumental shift in not only how we saw these characters but also how they previously saw each other.

the fact that we literally now have confirmation that a) they knew each other before the fall, b) aziraphale has had heart eyes since before time began, and c) crowley... possibly not so much, completely changes the context on not just the eden scene but also all the historic scenes that followed.

aziraphale knew crowley as an angel, and knew even then when crowley was meant to be 'perfect' that crowley was maybe a bit different, always asking questions and toeing the line. maybe out of a bit of bastardy himself, or out of begrudging awe of his ability but also his audacity, or just plain attraction, aziraphale immediate takes to him. but this has meant that aziraphale has placed crowley, perhaps unconsciously, upon a pedestal. and the pedestal that aziraphale puts crowley on from that moment may have wobbled throughout their history together, but it's stayed relatively intact.

this worries me, that aziraphale may not have quite let go of the fact that crowley just isn't that person any more, maybe never was to begin with, and continues in some measure to idolise him. my interpretation of this is that yes, crowley can be a bit of a dick (because, well, obviously) and aziraphale knows this, has done since the beginning, but aziraphale continues to hold crowley to an overall moral ideal that is so firmly ensconced in aziraphale's first perception of him as an angel that crowley will never be able to live up to it. not because he isn't a nice person, or because he can't live up to it, but maybe... he just simply doesn't want to.

but the issue is that throughout the ages (including the job minisode which ive had corrected for me, so Crowley Anger is now simply simmering), crowley's actions have only reinforced to aziraphale that despite being technically a demon, he has a huge heart and is not a horrible person. bit of a bastard, but not cruel. all of this just feeds and feeds into this image of crowley that aziraphale has built of him, and when crowley has his flashes of, in fact, not being honourable or kind, this threatens to upset the pedestal altogether.

these wobbly moments - when he thinks crowley is going to kill the children, when crowley snaps at him in rome, when crowley first proposes the arrangement, the prospect that he came up with the french revolt, the holy water request, the bandstand, "how can someone as clever as you be so stupid?"... moments where just for a second, in a small or huge measure, aziraphale's faith in crowley... flickers.

and of course aziraphale has been here before, right? he's had his faith, his devotion, his loyalty tested to the absolute limit of angelic endurance. so when his faith in heaven (never lost it in god) was obliterated, well - it had to cling to something. something that wouldnt mean that aziraphale has to lose the concept of faith altogether. so we're back to the old standby of idolatry, that aziraphale's heavenly faith is replaced by his faith in crowley, this angel that despite never originally giving aziraphale the time of day, aziraphale cannot see - for all of crowley's faults and bastardy and the frustration he poses - crowley as anything less than something to be worshipped.

this is exactly why i think that one of the main points of s2 is going to be a rift between them both. obviously i haven't talked about crowley's perspective of this and maybe i will in another post, but i do think that crowley is going to do something, a bad thing for the right reasons, but aziraphale isn't going to see it like that. that crowley will do something awful to protect aziraphale, but all aziraphale will be able to see is the betrayal or the cruelty or the despair, he can't see wood for the trees, and just lose that last vestige of faith he had altogether.

i feel like once all the disillusion and disenchantment has been swept away, and they're both laid bare at each other's feet... that they may not quite like what they find. from aziraphale's perspective, that whatever crowley does in s2 might be crossing aziraphale's line in the sand, and now aziraphale is starting to see crowley as someone that is truly grey, fluctuating between doing things that are Good, and things that are Good for Crowley.

and it's not as if aziraphale was blind to this before, but instead now... he kind of finally sees who crowley is? who he has been all along? the film has lifted from his eyes. realises that love and worship are not the same thing. what he loves, who he loves, doesn't equate to worshipping it/them, idolising them. there's a very big difference that echoes down to the very core tenet of who aziraphale is and his experiences with having and losing faith, but love having remained.

so stripped of the pedestal, crowley is now just simply... crowley. a person, not an angel, not a demon. and there is the distinct possibility that aziraphale might be completely blindsided by what he finds.

[whumble-beeee]

The Man in the Sweater Vest

The (Un)Official Guide to Hero-Keeping | Cont'd from Part 7

Content: attempted noncon, threatened mouth whump, disabled whumpee, trans whumpee, scissors, tied up/handcuffs, noncon unshirtening, noncon touch, past captivity references, graphic threats, blood, crapton of whump. As a treat :)

* * * * * * * *

Excerpt from: The (Un)Official Guide to Hero-Keeping; a self-help guide for villains and bounty-hunters

[Inevitably, there will be disagreements on how you should treat your captured hero. One villain might want to just hold the hero hostage long enough to finish their dastardly plans. Another will want to break the hero’s will entirely! Or anything else in between! 

But when working together with other villains, bounty hunters, henchmen, etc, it is crucial that everyone is on the same page about how your captured hero is to be treated, lest your hero end up with a few less limbs than you meant them too, or your months of breaking down the hero's fragile mind is undone by a single nice gesture.

Always communicate effectively, your hero will thank you for it (or curse the day you were born)!]

* * * * * * * *

Sweater-vest stumbled back, reeling from the punch and clutching his face before pulling his hands down and gawking at the blood staining his hands.

“STAY AWAY FROM ME!!” Stan screamed. 

An intense elation washed through his chest despite the surprisingly sharp exploding pain that crackled up the very bones of his arm when he punched the man, and the now freshly ripped open scabs and bruises from where he’d forgotten to account for the handcuffs and yanked on them violently, streaming new ruby red over dried light brown that already carved down his arms; 

Because he'd got him. He'd got him! Punched him, made him back off! Stan did that! He'd finally managed to actually do something about the atrocities being committed against him and it was so, so sweet. 

Relatively short-lived, though. 

Vaughn, the sweater vest man, started to giggle to himself as he wiped the blood streaming from his nose onto his sleeve. Elation gave way to tentative confusion. Then a sinister seed started to take root in Stan's gut, the roots already reaching out and tightening around his body.

“You-...” Vaughn giggled some more. “You– you think–?...”

He started fully laughing, speech overtaken by an apparent hilarity that Stan must’ve just been too shocked by the sudden mood change to understand. He was cackling. Then practically shrieking, crazy, loud, heaving laughs.

He must be crazy. 

Insane. 

Well and truly insane, the way he was shriek laughing into his shining red-stained hands.

His gaze snapped up to Stan, and Stan could practically hear the horror movie crackling effect with how fast it snapped up, crazy maniacal shudders still overtaking his body, piercing gaze turned wide, animalistic.

“You think you can HURT ME?! HURT ME?! AHAHAHAHA!!”

Suddenly Stan slammed into the wall, cuffed wrists pinned above his head, chest to chest with the crazy man and staring up into his crazy bloodshot eyes.

“You can't hurt me,” he growled into Stan’s ear through gritted teeth. ”I don't feel pain. I carved that weakness out a long time ago, my brain doesn’t register it anymore! And I did it so I could deal with horrible little brats like you–” he slammed Stan's wrists into the wall, “--however I see fit! So I could do whatever I wanted to them. So that even if they fight back, they always, always, always lose.”

He pulled back and leaned into Stan's face, staring the captive directly in his glaringly defiant, wide and shining eyes. Hot shaking breaths misted surprisingly minty breath onto Stan’s cheeks, nearly overpowered by the metallic tang of blood that still poured down his face.

“Always submit. Just like you're going to.”

Stan pulled down hard against Vaughn's grasp, struggling and wiggling and tugging and screaming and kicking and doing every single little thing he could to, if not escape, at least make this as difficult as possible.

“Get away from me!" He cried. "GET AWAY FROM ME, get OFF of me, I’m not gonna let you do this you sadist, you can’t do this to me!! LET GO–!”

A punch to the gut. Stan tried to double over and wheezed as much as he could with his arms pinned up, which delivered him right into another punch to the face.

 Then something cool and sharp stabbed into the soft underside of his chin, straining his neck with how far his head pushed back into the wall.

“This is why I like to keep my victims gagged,” Vaughn gritted. “That bounty hunter of yours never does it, no matter how I tell him to. Always has to do stuff his own way, never listens. All he does is talk talk talk, always has a retort for everything. So defiant, and so is every single subject he brings in.”

A dull aching throb emanated from where Stan’s head pressed into the wall. Black spots dotted his vision. 

“You–... y-you can't–”

The scissors pulled back and dove toward Stan's mouth, eliciting a loud cut-off scream of revolt as he cowered and squeezed his eyes shut from some vain, animalistic instinct to protect himself. 

Then he pried open his eyes again, confused when no cutting metallic pain ripped through the fragile flesh of his face.

The handle of the scissors were fuzzy, too close for his eyes to focus.

They weren’t that far into his mouth.

Just enough that if Stan tried to close it, his teeth would clip on the tip of the metal blades instead. 

The scissors lifted slowly, tapping on his top teeth, tilting his head up until he stared into Vaughn’s metallic blue eyes once more.

“I could always prep your throat with these if you like,” he drawled softly, letting go of Stan’s cuff chain and instead lightly grasping his thumb and forefinger under Stan’s chin, forcing his mouth open further. A small sob crackled out from Stan’s throat. 

“It would be so easy… I could just–” 

The scissors lurched further into Stan’s mouth, and Stan let out another involuntary squeak and an open-mouthed, unintelligible pleading of “no, no, no, no…” as tears started to sting at his eyes.

But he let him do it. 

He even still held his arms up, because surely if he tried to fight back now, with the scissors in his mouth quite literally pinning him to the wall… He didn’t even want to think of the consequences.

“Careful, dropje. Wouldn’t want to cut yourself. Be quiet, be still, be good for me, right? You can be good for me? You can finally shut the hell up. No more fighting.”

He let go of Stan's chin and let his hands wander lower, caressing Stan’s sides, the curve of his waist, making his entire body tense and shudder. His breathing turning loud and shallow as he cringed away. 

Vaughn just giggled.

“See? Isn’t this better? You’re not getting hurt, you’re doing what I say…” His fingers slipped under the waistband of Stan’s pants again. Slower this time. More deliberate. 

It took all of Stan's willpower to not start hyperventilating at what he knew was about to happen. He knew. It was always this, wasn’t it?

Vaughn’s voice lowered as he leaned closer, pressing his body into Stan’s. He could feel the fibers of the stupid damn sweater vest against his stomach, deceptively soft, almost pleasant. The hard blade of the scissors tapped on the tip of his nose. “Because you physically have no other–”

BANG!!

Stan screamed. 

Vaughn screamed. 

The ghost of the gunshot echoed off the cinderblock walls. 

Vaughn also nearly fell backward, pushing off of Stan just in time for Stan to fall to the floor in a duck-and-cover position and pray to whatever gods would listen that his last day on earth wouldn't have been spent dealing with two of the worst people he'd ever had the displeasure of being kidnapped by.

Wait, scratch that, his knee reminded him. He'd had worse.

His heart threatened to jump out of his chest completely, but he finally realized that in fact, he was still alive. So he opened his eyes to what he never thought to be one of the most beautiful sights in the world;

Deeby. 

Gun pointed to the sky and streaming a light grey smoke into a small puff of explosion that hadn't had time yet to dissipate. 

“What in the ever-loving SHIT are you doing?!” he shouted.

He was completely maskless, face now on full display, fiery eyes matching his equally fiery sneer. The sudden absence of the mask almost scared Stan more than the gunshot, the sight making his heart beat in his throat.

Then, for just a split second, Deeby's enraged eyes met Stan's stare. His eyes scanned down his body, looking him up and down, his face changing ever so slightly when his gaze caught in Stan’s chest. A slight crinkle of the eyebrows, a small tilt of the head. Then his eyes widened in some sort of realization, and Stan felt his heart turn to ice. 

Recognition.

No. 

He couldn't have realized who he was. 

Just because of the binder?!

Stan choked on his own throat as the collar suddenly constricted once more and he was dragged violently forward to his knees.

“Your fucking dog punched me in the face!” Vaughn shouted, jangling Stan around enough that he had to grab the collar just to gain back his breath.

“Just because–!” 

Vaughn jolted Stan's collar back hard and cut him off with a violent gag.

“I was disciplining him.” Vaughn narrowed his eyes at the mercenary. “Like we're supposed to.” 

Deeby’s jaw set. And still, he managed to find a slight smug smile within his fury. “That why your face is gushing blood, then? Disciplined him too hard?”

Stan didn't even realize when they started, but tears were practically streaming down his cheeks now, chest heaving in panic. “Deeby, Deeby, he was gonna–”

“Shut up!”

A kick this time, straight to the back of his spine, and Stan's throat strained hard into the collar before breaking free of Vaughn's grasp and nearly face-planting into cold concrete. He scrambled to get up, but the same foot planted on his back and slammed his chest right back to the floor, grinding the heel of its shoe into the captive’s spine. Stan clutched at the ground, screams barely bit back by force of sheer willpower.

“Christ, man! Stop it, get off!” Deeby yelled with uncharacteristic urgency.

The force pinning him down suddenly released, followed by the scattered footfalls of someone catching themself from nearly falling over. 

Stan just lay there limp. Heaving and shivering. He couldn't move. His limbs felt like heavyweights, the world tilted on it’s axis, and he was sure that if he lifted his head up, he would lose every last morsel of that protein bar he'd shoved down earlier.

But at least now no one was methodically turning him into a fine red mist anymore. 

Deeby stood between the two of them like an impenetrable stone wall, hand resting on the unlatched holster of his gun and pointedly ignoring Vaughn’s stuttering disbelief as he patted at the pockets of his jacket, pulling various probably very sharp things out and shoving them into his pants pockets.

Protecting him.

“You– You just–...” Vaughn finally composed himself. “You pushed me off! You're saving him? He needs to be taught a lesson!”

Stan tried to push up despite the dizziness. “Only–... D-Deeby, he was trying–”

“Shut up, Stan, I know, let me handle it! Here.” Deeby slid his jacket off and dropped it practically on top of his captive’s head, never once letting his gaze slip from Vaughn. Stan shakily pulled the brown leather of the jacket over his shoulders before he had time to think better of it, doing his best to just enjoy the show and not think about the implications of what was currently happening.

 “Because he wouldn't let you put your dick in him without a fight, right?” The bounty hunter said sarcastically. “Or– or– or because he wasn’t gonna let you mouth-gore him without complaint? Let you ‘teach him a lesson?’ Yeah, I am stopping you. Piece of shit.” The bounty hunter grabbed the scissors off the floor where they landed when Vaughn dropped them after the gunshot. Then he used them to point sharply at the door. 

“Get out.”

Vaughn scoffed and melodramatically rolled his eyes.

“You got the message from Lana then? Is that why you're acting like such a belligerent wittle babeee?” Vaughn posited in his most obnoxious baby voice.

Deeby bristled. Stan could've sworn for a moment he could see the man shaking. 

“Yes,” he said, slowly. “I talked to Lana. Your useless job is done. You can go back to being an even more useless sidepiece now.”

Vaughn’s shoulders tensed, and he laughed.

“Good! And I’ll make sure to tell Lana all about you taking the side of the disobedient dog of a test subject–”

“Yeah, go cry to your girlfriend about it, he's under my jurisdiction and I'm not gonna let you fuck that up because you feel the need to live out your perverse power fantasy with the helpless people you kidnap and torture. As if it isn’t torture enough to have to be in the same room with you at all.”

Vaughn clenched his fists at his side and forced on the worst imitation of a smile Stan had ever borne witness to.

“You better watch your tone, Deathberry,” he said, sickly sweet voice doing nothing to mask the hissing rage. “I could have you in the same spot as him in ten seconds. Don't ever–” he jabbed Deeby in the chest. “–forget that. You're only allowed to be out here roaming around with your fancy gun and your fancy cowboy boots because you're useful, otherwise you'd be locked up with the rest–”

Vaughn had just started to reach for the holster on Deeby's belt when, faster than Stan could perceive, a flurry of movement between the two men, a cry of surprised fear, the shuffling of feet and spinning of bodies and suddenly Vaughn was pinned back first to Deeby's chest, a wire that Deeby pulled from somewhere stretched taut between his fists and pressing a hard line directly under into the skin of Vaughn's throat.

Vaughn's hands quickly flew up to the wire to try and pull it off his throat, then just as quickly let go when he realized the wire would sooner cut through his hands before it would be pried off.

Stan couldn't help but stare.

“You're just about at the end of my rope, Verhulst,” Deeby growled, accent fully presiding now as he stepped backward and pulled Vaughn toward the door. “Don't you ever put your filthy hands on my gun.”

A slight rasp to Vaughn's voice was the only thing that denoted anything was amiss. “You sure this is about the gun, Deebs? Sure you're not taking your frustrations at Lana out on me?” 

“Trust me, if I was takin’ my frustrations at Lana out on you, bud, you'd be dead.”

Vaughn's eyes shot to Stan, and his smile broadened. 

“Ohhhh, I see. So what then, you are falling for the captive? I'm sure Lana would love to hear about how you're going soft, how you miss her, and how spectacularly you're failing at finding someone better so you have to–”

A small gurk finding its way from Vaughn's throat as he was pulled to a sudden stop.

“You know what, maybe I am. And maybe you should use your mouth to do something not completely useless for once.” He spun the both of them around to face Stan again. 

“Apologize to ‘im.”

What?

Vaughn stared at Stan, apparently more stunned by the notion of apologizing than the motion of having a garot wire to his throat. Stan… honestly had to agree.

“Come again?”

“Apologize to Stan. For tryin’ to rape him. It's the least you could do.”

“You want me to… apologize?? To the test subject? You really are losing it, Deathberry, let me go.”

The wire dug into his throat more. “Say sorry, doctor.”

Vaughn glared at Stan. Stan glared back as well as he could.

“I can't feel the pain of this, you know,” Vaughn's voice came, even raspier. “You're not doing anything.”

“You can still bleed out from a slit throat. Still drown to death in your own blood as it slowly fills your lungs,” Deeby dismissed lightly. “Still bleed out. Very quickly. I wonder what would happen if I hit your carotid–

“And I wonder how Lana would feel about you slitting her head scientist and boyfriend’s throat.”

“Probably call you a little bitch boy for invoking her name every time you need to defend yourself like a spoiled toddler ‘steada bein’ a man about it and defending yourself. Or maybe not. You’d never know, you’d be dead.”

“You wouldn't–”

Deeby twitched the wire across Vaughn's throat and a line of red bloomed across the light tan of his neck. Vaughn's face grew just a little bit paler. He brought his hands up to graze across the wire and felt the warm wetness smear across his fingertips.

“Apologize.” Deeby growled. “Now.”

Vaughn's eyes flitted back to Stan, fully appraising the wonderfully wide-eyed mess he'd had pinned against the wall only moments before. 

He narrowed his eyes. 

Took a deep breath. 

Stared daggers directly into Stan's soul.

“Sorry.”

Oh you bastard.

“Go jump off a cliff!” Stan yelled, erratically reaching into the jacket pocket he'd seen Deeby pull the protein bar out of earlier and luckily finding many more, one of which was immediately thrown directly at Vaughn. He couldn't even attempt to dodge it, and it hit him directly in the chest. 

The mercenary let out a singular loud laugh and spun Vaughn back around, letting the wire retract into what Stan now realized was a little housing box on his weird arm sleeve thing and shoving Vaughn at the door as hard as he could.

“Guess he doesn't forgive you. Better luck next time!” he laughed. Stan genuinely thought (and hoped) Sweater-vest would fall flat on his face, but he managed to grab the door and right himself before that happened. Shame.

“Now get out.” Deeby said.

Vaughn glared with a literal snarl, jaw half a second away from cracking in two. Right before he took a slow, deep breath and reset his features to a forced neutral. Then an easy smile. “As you wish, my liege.” 

He bowed exaggeratedly low in a show of mock respect, retrieving his scissors from the ground in a surprisingly graceful sweeping motion as he went. Deeby just rolled his eyes.

“Oh, and Stanny?” He drawled, peeking back from the door as he left and pointing his scissors directly at Stan's face with a flourish. “I look forward to seeing you soon~.” 

“Get outta here!” Deeby yelled with a threatening stomp toward the door, at the same time Stan stuttered out a very surprised and agitated “In hell!”

The door slammed shut. 

Stan could swear he could still hear Vaughn's deranged laugh echoing through the room even as an eerie silence fell over them.

He was finally gone. Finally.

See you soon.

He didn't completely understand why his breath continued to quicken. He'd won that encounter, right? Or… well, Deeby had. But still.

I look forward to seeing you soon.

He felt dizzy. More than the concussion could have caused. This was different, made him feel like he was suffocating, even though Vaughn was no longer here to strain the collar against his throat. Yet he could still feel the knuckles digging into the back of his neck.

I look forward to seeing you soon. In hell.

* * * * * * * *

Next

Taglist: @flowersarefreetherapy | @pirefyrelight | @cakeinthevoid | @painsandconfusion | @books-are-everything | @paperprinxe

[mell0w0dyssey]

Devil on the King's shoulder

[ex-king-sombra]

TEN THOUSAND YEARS CAN GIVE YOU SUCH A CRICK IN THE NECK-

[zoeythebee]

Now this is pretty cool

See how those bees are stacked? I drew them in reverse order, that one up top was the first one drawn. I am using a super snazzy library called Allegro which has super lightweight transforms and a depth buffer. All in, like, 10 lines of setup code too.

Allegro >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

[ruinedbycatastrophe]

@writtenxbeginnings liked a starter from Karlach!

"--- So, how you feelin' soldier? You took a quite a hit after that last fight. Hit 'em back though!"

[aberooski]

A redraw of one of my favorite Cloti moments in FF7R with the boyfriends 😌

Tumblr has it out for me so click for better quality 💕