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#it's still the more interesting rendition
ruruvxz · 1 month
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“Where is my friend, smiley?”
Idol!Huh Yunjin x Idol!Reader
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↳ synopsis: It was infuriating watching everyone ship you and your label-mate, you didn’t even know how anyone came to that conclusion, you didn’t even interact with her in the public! (Or from public knowledge you didn’t) So why would anyone know about your embarrassing relationship with her?
↳ cw: kinda mean reader, use of language, established relationship, reader is in a fake group, reader was in Produce 48, lovesick yunjin, hidden relationship, tooth rotting fluff (kinda a yapfest abt how much you love her…)
↳word count: 2.5k
a/n: literally my first time writing after awhile, usually my stories are old renditions/proofreads of stories i wrote back in 2023. so this is something im actually really proud of! also this story kinda was inspired by “tingin” by cup of joe more than it was inspired by “where is smiley” by serani poji… LOL
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౨ৎ It was odd, and everyone agreed, that the partnership with Huh Yunjin from Le Sserafim and Y/N from Serendipity was perplexing. The only thing connecting both of the girls was the industry they happened to be in, other than that they had nothing in common. Of course, the argument could be made that you and her both participated in the hit reality competition "Produce 48", but everyone knew that was quite a flawed counterpoint.
This was because you were practically thrown out after a few episodes before getting scouted by HYBE to debut months later. And you made it apparent that you didn't want to interact with anyone associated with the production of that show. So with Le Sserafim's debut years after yours, you found it baffling that your company wanted you to "hang out" with the rookie groups, it was infuriating. You worked so hard just to be put with a bunch of girls who couldn't care any less about how much you tried. Despite that, you found mountains and mountains of carefully orchestrated videos of “so-called" proof about you and Yunjin being the "best" of friends.
Whatever it was connecting the both of you was a mystery the fans must solve, and being honest with yourself, you found the whole circumstance mildly infuriating.
So at every turn you tried avoiding that mischievous redhead wherever you went, even when it came to recording meaningless video collaborations, you always mustered up a half-assed excuse. It came to the point where you went out of your way to hide in uncomfortable places just to avoid her friendly banter. Though no matter how hard you tried you could always hear her voice linger longer than it should have in the back of your head. Or maybe it was just how awfully loud her voice was, to the point that it left a ringing sensation in your ear.
It came as no surprise when you heard her voice calling out to your other members inquiring about your whereabouts. This was usually your cue to hide away from prudish questions, last time she had asked you "Do you come here often? You look like you do" unprovoked! Admittedly you knew she didn't mean any harm, but it still struck a cord within you, and knew she was probably going to run towards you asking all sorts of questions. You picked yourself up from whatever task was put on you and quickly ran away from her voice.
Of course, you knew what you were doing was more than ill-mannered, but god forbid she quizzes you one more time about trivial interests. But that was better than confronting her, confrontation was your worst enemy, and so was Yunjin's mannerisms. She was the physical embodiment of what a "dog personality" was, always eager to learn more and help everyone out. it kinda freaked you out to some jealous extent.
So trying your best not to start any conflict with this poor redhead, you decided to best course of action was to camp out around the building's designated lounge. Hoping today would not be the day she decided to check this certain deserted area. All you could do now was fish out your phone from your back pocket to read some forums about your performance and pray that no one would notice you here.
On the other hand, Yunjin was getting more and more hopeless trying to find you around the shared building. Feeling a little lost as she mindlessly drifted across section to section of the HYBE building. Though it hadn't taken poor Yunjin a while before spotting you from the corner of her eye. Her eyes lit up when she saw you mindlessly scrolling on your phone, the energy filling her up with excitement as she inched closer. As she came closer you couldn't help but notice her come closer and closer, realizing your interaction was inevitable.
Jerking your head up to meet her gaze, Yunjin waved her hand as she came within reach of you, letting out a fake smile before putting your phone down. You glanced at her and back to the empty seat resting in front of you, she beamed a bright smile before quickly and "casually" sitting down. Yunjin opened her mouth to speak before you cut her off with a hum.
"Remember, we're the only ones here so make sure to be a little quiet, alright?" You hushed, while she gave you an approving nod, she spoke up this time making it apparent that she was trying her best not to draw attention to the both of you, not like last time.
"Of course, I just wanted to see you it's been so long since I've seen your face..." Yunjin pouts as she looks around making sure the coast is clear from the nosy "enthusiast" who was always oh so curious about you and Yunjin's relationship. Your spine chilling at the thought of people making up such absurd theories about your closeness. The way they could put together such in-depth statements about the both of you always stumped you, how did they manage to procure all this information?
Even Yunjin claimed time and time again that she knew nothing about these fan-made theories, or how her fans managed to get old screen captures of both of you. In actual reality, Yunjin most definitely knew more than he should have! Mainly because it was practically her fault that images of the both of you were wafting around on the internet. See, she wasn't exactly the silent type when it came to friendships/relationships, she loved airing out her own business, which usually came back to bite her in the ass. So needless to say when her old Spotify account was coincidently launched into mainstream media people quickly connected the dots.
For someone who was adamant about avoiding her Juniors, you happened to be insinuated in every one of her, oddly, romantic, playlists. Either that be by a photo of the back of your head being the cover of a playlist titled "The Perfect Pair", or by the fact that all the descriptions were... Unusually corny... even by Yunjin's standards. Each careful string of words all connected with an underlying message about adoration for a certain someone. This didn't help her case since she always spoke about you in high regard whenever she was in a lonesome interview.
And the evidence staked against her was just the tip of the iceberg, it was in fact, much deeper than she'd originally like to admit. If someone with a genuine interest in your relationship with Yunjin researched just a little more about the both of you, they'd probably discover your relationship cut deep. And yes— as much as you tried to avoid how embarrassing your elimination was during Produce 48, you came across one of the greatest person you’d ever meet.
The way she laughed so carefreely, and how her eyes crinkled whenever she smiled, while her gaze brightly met yours. Everything about her made your heart stop, it made you freeze up whenever she looked at you during practice, and it made you such a fool. You knew it was for the better to avoid her, if you didn't, you'd probably be so whipped so hard that you couldn't focus on your own career. But it was so hard, especially whenever she'd run towards you after every practice and performance telling you how well you did. (No one actually noticed anything because you never really got any screen time sadly...) Even if you left fairly early on, Yunjin slipped you her number so you could both keep in contact.
After that day, the one thing you swore not to do, was instantly thrown out the window, as every waking moment you'd secretly visit her to give her your luck. And when things didn't go her way, and she was eventually eliminated, you comforted her in your arms. Before you debuted, you would actively seek your smiling friend, laughing under the neatly shaded picnic table outside the PLEDIS building. It wasn't much nor was it very significant, but being by her side was more than enough for you.
Even after you debuted, you never broke contact with your dear friend, words couldn’t describe how much she meant to you. She congratulated you every step of the way, and you backed her up twice fold, no matter how turbulent her career was becoming you’d stick by her side no matter what. Because to see her smiling face was more than enough for you and you wouldn’t let anything or anyone damage that. So when she finally told you how much you meant to her, you couldn’t help but reciprocate the feeling.
Though when she debuted and years later light babble started to circulate around the corners of the internet, you so desperately wanted to stay away from her, not to damage her career. It was difficult but her happiness, and that smile you treasured so much was on the line, and you wouldn’t—couldn’t let her lose that.
(Of course, she knew what you were doing, she wasn’t an idiot, but it just made her love you even more, the way you cared so much made her heart swoon deeper for you. Yunjin didn’t want to sway your plans because she didn’t want to ruin your career as well, so she too, went with it. But that didn’t mean she ever kept you a secret. You belonged by her side and she didn’t want anyone to forget that. So yes, she was subtly hinting towards her loving fans that her heart fell in the palms of someone else’s.)
So that was what led the both of you to the circumstances you were entangled in right now. Having to camp out in secluded places, where only your faint laughter could fill her ears, and hers only. You reminisced on your past with her, how carefree you both used to be during your youth, but you wouldn’t trade what you had right now for anything. Despite how secretive the both of you were, you were content with having her hands interlocking with your fingers. It was small, honestly not even comparable to how she used to intertwine your lips during rush hour on the bustling streets of New York, but both made your heart race nevertheless.
As she talked about how practice went, your eyes drifted to how she’d scrunch her eyes whenever she laughed about what happened with Eunchae. Despite all the hardships she’s dealt with over the years, she was still the carefree girl you fell in love with. It was honestly surprising how your eyes never faltered off of her even after years of dating. You tried to take the advice from your family and peers that this was some teenage infatuation, but even through crowds of people, you’d pick her gummy smile before anyone else’s.
Your mind drifted to how you’d give her the moon and back, even if no one was watching, you’d give her everything you had. Your eyes, your heart, your mind, anything you could give her, you would. Yunjin couldn’t help but notice your gaze falling from hers and to her cheeks, she curiously stopped her story to call out to you.
“Ah Y/N, are you okay? Are you tired, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have talked your ears off—“ You cut her off by raising your hands to her face, she looked confused as she cupped her face. Yunjin looked even more shocked when you started to pinch her soft cheeks. Squishing them like marshmallows before laughing to yourself silently.
She (very pathetically) tried to swat your hands away before finally giving in with a giggle, placing her hands on top of yours. “You have such an adorable smile, have I ever told you that?” You speak, pulling her cheeks up to force a smile, not realizing she was smiling from your comment. Caressing your hands with her thumb she spoke up once more.
“Yes actually, you always tell me that my love.” She responded, her cheeks flushing red as you continued to play with her face. The way her eyes squinted like a crescent moon made you adore her even more than before.
“Your smile is just so adorable, I’m afraid I might hide it away from everyone.” You joked as you continued, she looked at you even more lovingly than imaginable, if you weren’t in public, you’d probably be kissing her face all over instead of playing with it. You were so distracted by how charming she looked that you didn’t notice a meddlesome paparazzi sneaking in and taking a very sneaky photo of the both of you. (And even if you did notice, you didn’t have the power to stop them, they’d probably run off with the photos before you could even stand up. Though they would probably release the photos later on in the day, and it would rightfully annoy you. You couldn’t deny the fact you were a little grateful that the people knew, the Huh Yunjin was, Y/N L/N’s)
“There you go again— Hey! You know, that was the first thing you told me when we met.”
“Was it really?”
“Yeah, you told me how beautiful my smile was, I was kinda surprised since you approached me in such a huge crowd of people.”
As Yunjin recited the moment you met, you remembered in detail about the interaction, because that’s what changed the trajectory of your life. (The backstage was crowded with everyone getting ready in their bright pink and white uniform, the cameras weren’t rolling so it was awfully loud. Your broken Korean wasn’t helping your cause as you tried your best to converse with your fellow trainees. The sea of faces was difficult to remember, there were 96 contestants after all. Despite how deafeningly loud everything was, and how overwhelming everything felt, your eyes wonder towards a light-brown bob. Her face caught you off guard, she was stunning, and the way she smiled made the world go silent for a few moments. And you needed to talk to her, or this moment would slip through your tender fingers, so you pushed through the crowd just to have one conversation with her.)
“How embarrassing… I hope no one finds out about that.” You sheepishly admit as you move your hands away from her face and intertwine your fingers back to hers.
“I’m sure they’ll find away, but before they do, my smile will always belong to you, Y/N.” She lifted one of your hands back to her face and cupped it to one of her cheeks before smiling softly. Making the already silent lounge even more quiet, as your mind only focused on her delicate smile. The same one you’d turn tides to protect. Your smiley.
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opm and ppop lovers rise tf up!!!!!
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lexyeevee · 1 year
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it's wild to see myhouse having escaped the orbit of Doom People, because so much of it specifically riffs on doom in a way that is laser-targeted at Doom People, to the point that i just wouldn't have expected it to be nearly as interesting if you don't pick up on that stuff
right from the outset, "my house" is even a recognizable genre, because doom was among the first approachable platforms for creating a 3D space, and if you give random people the ability to create a 3D space then many of them will just try to recreate their own house. (i want to say jp lebreton even made an effort to play through every house map on the idgames archive at one point, though hell if i can find it now.) there was in fact already a "myhouse.wad", from 1995!
frankly it's incredible that someone (or someones) put so much effort into this map and then had the gall to simply post it on doomworld as "myhouse.wad", because that is a thread title that guarantees the fewest possible people will bother to look. there are posts in the thread where people outright admit that they only checked because they were surprised how many replies a "my house" wad got.
so anyway, okay, the "classic" doom wad experience is that you download a wad, it contains exactly 1 map, and it has zero custom textures or music or other frills. most wads from the 90s are like this; if you're lucky you might get a bad midi rendition of a metallica song. nowadays there are texture artists and musicians and everything collaborating on full map packs, but "just a map" is still kind of the default mapping experience and is recognizable to anyone who's been around doom for sufficiently long.
and myhouse riffs on absolutely every aspect of this:
• the music is the MAP01 music, Running From Evil, which is just the music you get if you supply your own map in the MAP01 slot and do nothing else. so a ton of 90s maps had this same track as their background music, so everyone has heard it a zillion times. it is ingrained into so many people's skulls. subtly fucking with it is a great way to fuck with the player
• the house uses only stock doom 2 textures, or occasionally light modifications of them. again this is just what you get if you make a map and don't supply any other resources, so the stock textures are very familiar. only later, with sufficient poking around, does the map introduce new textures, which really help sell the impression of being swept away to Somewhere Else
• if you take the exit, you go to MAP02, Underhalls. this is the expected experience because doom wads replace what's already there — you're not really supplying a "new map pack" or anything, you're overwriting a map from the original doom 2 progression. (there are ways to fiddle with this now, but in vanilla doom 2, the level progression was hardcoded.) so the "ending" of a no-frills single-map wad is always, always to transition to Underhalls. the opening shot of Underhalls is practically like seeing the credits. so roping Underhalls into the experience is completely unexpected, because Underhalls is the sign that you've escaped back to regular doom
• the super shotgun is "hidden" in Underhalls, in probably the best-known super shotgun location in the whole game, because it's the first time you can get it
• incidentally Underhalls itself feels uncanny, because the player camera height is higher than usual to make the house's proportions feel sensible. (part of the trouble with exact recreations of real spaces in doom is that the camera is weirdly low.) i was actually convinced that myhouse included a modified Underhalls, but no, it's stock doom 2 Underhalls, it just feels off when you're slightly taller
but wait, there's more
• silent teleporters are a feature from boom, a very early doom derivative that added a number of helpful mapping features and is basically considered only half a step beyond vanilla. so shifting between two versions of a space without interruption isn't completely unexpected. it's only later that the portal use becomes more obvious
• although if you're especially canny, you should notice that the second version of the house shows both the upstairs and downstairs windows in full, which is impossible — doom cannot do room-over-room. (in fact this is accomplished with a semi-obscure zdoom feature called sector portals — essentially, the whole second floor and the space outside it are a separate area, and the "ceiling" of the yard becomes a view up through the "floor" of that second space.)
• swinging doors are a hexen feature (polyobjects) that gzdoom inherited. (heretic and hexen were modifications of the doom engine, and zdoom started out as a merge of all three codebases into something that could play all three games.) they might also be in other fancy engines (eternity?), but they are very distinctly not a doom thing. if you're deeply familiar with doom's limitations then they'll jump out at you immediately, but if you're looking at doom like it's any old 3D game then maybe not so much
• recreations of other humble real-world locales are also a somewhat common theme, and remind me in particular of Doom City, from way back in 1995
• a very common desire for players is to "uv-max" a map, i.e. reach the exit on ultra-violence with 100% kills and secrets. if you can't do this, the map is (reasonably) considered broken. it is comically impossible to do this in myhouse, and anyone with the skill to create the map would be acutely aware of this
• the extra weapon frames look to be borrowed from the well-known smooth doom, which adds extra frames for everything and is just pretty dang slick overall. so it's not merely "ho ho, got you, smoother weapons" but specific integration of another familiar project
• this might be reaching a bit, but mirrors are specifically a nightmare in zdoom's software renderer because they work by rendering all visible geometry as if it were physically present on the other side of the mirror — and if there be any actual geometry back there, it will also get rendered and you will have a big fucking mess. so a mirror in the middle of a room is a laughable idea. this is somewhat less of a concern now that the hardware renderer is basically the default, but it's still a spectre looming over the very concept of mirrors, so the way mirrors play out in myhouse is very funny to me
there's probably more, like, the way it intercepts noclip is a stroke of genius and not something i've ever seen done before. but i hope you get the idea
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yandereunsolved · 3 months
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𐂂 .𖥔 ݁ ˖ Yandere ??? — Wendigo 𐂂 .𖥔 ݁ ˖
𓄃 From the depths of the forest, it appeared. They told you not to walk alone at night, and you did. It'd eat you; it'd kill you. The Wendigo. The cannibalistic, once-human creature that stalked your local woodlands during the winter. No one would dare forage or play in the icy white droplets near the woodlands. Too many human carcasses had turned up for people to think of it as a simple legend.
You thought yourself safe. It's fall; the creature is only ever seen in the winter. It once looked more human, you were told, but it took on the appearance of a crytpid deer creature. It towered over you at fifteen feet tall. Glowing yellow eyes shining through its deer skull pierce through your soul. 
Its elongated claws almost caringly scratched against your neck. Its lips are nonexistent on its deer skull, but its tongue lulls out, the length of your arm. It's coated in dried blood and forked at the tip. It crouches so it's on its haunches, its head tilting towards you as its antlers rub against your stomach.
You're frozen, petrified by the horrifying monster that stunk of rotted flesh and wet dog.
𓄃 It let you go that night after what felt like an eternity. It ended up sitting near you, pawing at you like a lost animal. It would tilt its head to the side every once in a while. Although it never spoke, it simply met your eyes, its gaze unceasing. 
You refused to walk within five hundred feet of the forest after that. You'd see it's yellow eyes watching you whenever you walked near the woods. It was any woods, any.
One night, it dragged you back into the forest and sat next to you. It made cooing sounds and cuddled up to you. Its gut-wrenching fetor seemingly tamer. It now smelled faintly of mint and spring blossoms.
𓄃 It became routine for you to visit it. It'd bring you dead animals and pieces of human flesh. Its claws would tear the flesh up and try to place it in your mouth. It'd open its skull and flick its tongue out to show you. Every time you refused, it seemed dejected and would angrily huff.
It made it clear that it wanted you to become a wendigo.
If you willingly ate human flesh, the thought made you shudder.
It even gifted you deer skulls, as well as other animal skulls. It'd place them near your head, as if appraising each one for a transformation you refuse to allow to happen.
𓄃 It'd curiously observe whatever you did. It'd point to your human technology and growl softly. It'd roar in an unpleased manner whenever your human interests took you away from it. 
However, it loved your sketchbook and the sticky things you called stickers. It'd purr when you decorated its skull with whatever stickers you had. It tried to eat them, and you did your best to explain not to. It still did. By the end of your nights together, it was adorned with many silly stickers all over its skull and antlers. It was elated, from what you could tell. It'd lick you happily.
It is even more excitable when you draw it. It doesn't matter if you have the artistic skills of Picasso or a toddler who can't color within the lines. It loves all of your renditions of it. It hangs them up in its cave and coats them in energy so they don't wrinkle or lose their vibrancy.
𓄃 It can smell your hormones and tell when you are most fertile. It becomes increasingly aggressive towards other people, even dragging those you interact with during the day to be its midnight snack. Its possessiveness becomes nearly unbearable. It will scream in the woods when the sun is still out. It demands you come to see it. People begin to connect the dots and practically force you to see it just so it doesn't harm anymore people where you live.
It touches you like you are made out of brittle bone. It caresses your chest down to your navel. It asks if it can help you when your hormones are high. It does this by palming at your clothes and purring out a high-pitched and barely discernible "yes... no...? help you...?"
If you allow it to help you, then you won't be leaving its nest within its cave until your hormone cycle switches to its next stage. It will bring you everything you need and keep you tucked into its figure. Its fur keeps you warmer than any blanket could. It's like sleeping in some place heavenly.
Its scent changes during this time. It smells like cranberries and pineapple, which only gets stronger the longer you are near it.
𓄃 No spiritual practitioner could help you get rid of it. Priest? They end up dead. Psychic? Dead. Reiki Master? Dead. Only a shaman managed to ward it from you for a handful of weeks.
It comes back even more violent and drags you into its cave. It refuses to let you go. It foams at the mouth and bares its deer teeth when you try to leave it. It can't let you go. It won't ever let you go. It needs to keep you with it until you turn into a Wendigo. Then you'll be its mate forever.
𓄃 This was all because you helped it once in its deer form. You accidentally hit it and then brought it to an animal hospital. Never had a mortal treat it with such kindness and softness. It became attached to you, and then decided to take the next step that fateful day. 
You're perfect for it—such a pure soul for its twisted being to corrupt.
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bug-slappy · 13 days
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sharing my opinion here about serizawas design inconsistencies over time (spoilers for mp100 ending) i feel like in each new rendition of serizawa weve seen in official art ever since the start of S3 something feels off in a different way with every new merch release
lets start here ⬇ serizawa looks like,, himself. accurate to how hes drawn since his first anime appearance
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⬇⬇⬇ and then slowly,,, things start to look off. his jawline is slowly getting slimmer, his eyes look wider (same with mobs too)
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AND DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED ON THESE. especially the one on the right my god. who is that
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every new promo art that comes out just feels very careless. I think you could say so for all the characters (mobs giant eyes, reigens waist getting skinnier/pointier features. the PROMO art of dimple that was literally FULLY TRACED OFF OF A TEMU PIRATE HALLOWEEN COSTUME. they all look bad here)
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it just feels a little depressing how little they seem to care anymore, like theyre just trying to pump out merch without bothering to use a character reference.
i notice the changes the most with serizawa. every promo art looks like theyre playing a game of telephone. each version of him is based on the last, instead of his initial design (shown below)
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at the end of S2, when reigen cuts serizawas hair, he still looks like himself. they did a great job of showing "how serizawa would look underneath his moustache and big hair". In S3 it feels like they've lost that mentality completely. like he's no longer based off of his original design, but an entirely new reference of his salary man look. some comparisons between S3 vs S2 and OVA down below
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I find that the line weight in S3 is much heavier and unfocused. but what bothers me most of all is that... Serizawa looks different in nearly every scene... as if they're undecided on what he should look like. the shape of his nose and jaw, his hair all change depending on the episode entirely.
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The art style change for S3 was meant to be "more accurate to the manga", but I find that it had the opposite effect. especially how serizawas and ritsus eye shapes changed. ritsus large pupils and serizawas more almond shaped eyes were more reflective of their manga designs there are plenty of inconsistences in S1 and 2, but they're clearly done with purpose to reflect on ONEs art style (my beloved). I feel like the thinner lines allow more room for detail and extreme facial expressions that truly hold a candle to ONEs insane talent for capturing emotions.
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these ^^^ compared to..
erm.. this.. ⬇
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just felt very underwhelming... and serizawa certainly does mellow out once he starts working at S&S, but that doesn't mean that there's less opportunity for detailed expressions !!
the yokai fight scene was beautifully made i have no qualms.. but the amount of serizawa lore and dialogue in the manga that got cut from the anime just made him look like a cardboard cut out standing behind everyone. lots of funny and interesting moments cut to make room for the moefication of serizawa katsuya..
I feel like there's a lot of important moments that were cut, (reigen "i hope i can become a partner like that" arataka, serizawa "ive had a similar experience myself" katsuya )
or sad, intense scenes that were made lighthearted (the body improvement club trying to help mob, mob and ??? dialogue being cut, reigen removing his shoes in the final arc made to be meant for better grip rather than... his passively suicidal tendencies )
i think the people at bones are very talented dont get me wrong, i just felt like S3 could have been adapted better. this keeps me up at night its like 1am :) anywhosies thank you for listening to my ted talk i love you
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🍆 So you can feel me even when I’m not there… 🍆
✎ Pairing: Chan x fem!reader
✎ Genre: Sad smut
✎ Summary: Chan’s on tour, but he’s found a way to be attentive even when he’s overseas.
✎ CW: Phone sex, FaceTime sex, dirty talk, sex toy use, swears, praise kink, daddy kink, general sadness
✎ Word count: 3,604
✎ Song recs: “Baby I’m Yours” - Arctic Monkeys & “Even When I’m Not With You” - Pierce the Veil
❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥
Two days.
It had only been two days since you saw him last, when he dragged himself out of bed at 3 in the morning to head to the airport.
He’d made you come four times before bed that night — once for each day he’d be gone — and held you tight while you slept. He even kissed you goodbye four times before leaving in the morning. But it wasn’t enough; nothing could ever be enough.
Even on his busiest days, you could at least look forward to him crawling into bed at night. He’d slide in behind you, pulling you into his chest as he drifts off, or maybe lightly pressing his hips into yours to see if you’d be down for a quickie. Sometimes you’d both be so tired he’d just slip his cock into you and gently roll his hips until he found release or simply fell asleep.
But the nights he was gone were almost unbearable. You’d wake up just before dawn to a dark room and an empty bed, immediately filled with fear that something happened to stop him from coming home to you. Then it hits you that he’s not supposed to come home, and somehow that’s even worse.
Two nights in a row waking up with that feeling has you losing it. The ache in your chest and your cunt only grows, and there’s nothing a weighted blanket or vibrator could do about either sensation. You need him.
Hey, baby
Malaysia is only an hour behind, but he’s probably sleeping after the early morning trip. He’ll reply later.
You try to go about your morning routine as best you can, but you can’t take your mind off his absence. Coffee, oatmeal, an empty seat at your table for two. Movie, blanket, a cold cushion on the loveseat. His scent is fading from the sweatshirt you haven’t taken off since the morning he left.
He needs his rest, but you need to hear his voice, see his words. Anything from him at this point.
Baby…
Luckily, he answers quickly this time.
Yeah love ?
I miss you…
I miss you too sweetheart
No I mean I…
I MISS you
I see hahahaha
:( don’t laugh
A voice message comes next.
“Naur, I’m sorry baby,” his silky voice pours out of the speaker. “Didn’t mean to make fun. You’re just cute… and predictable. Hehehehe.”
It takes a few listens to comprehend what he’s actually saying to you. The sound of his words and his laugh and his breath are exactly what you needed. And you’re sure he knows that, because he sends another text before you can compose yourself enough to reply.
Doing ok over there?
As best as I can… thank you
I wanna hear you too ㅠㅠㅠ
“Hiiii. I love youuuu. I miss yooouuuu,” you coo into the mic and send it off.
Adorable
Hey… what are you doing now?
Watching a movie
Ok if I call… ?
Of course :)
The Arctic Monkeys’ rendition of “Baby I’m Yours” plays and his goofy smile pops up on your screen. You almost always spend a few seconds distractedly staring at this photo you took before answering his calls.
“Hi, honey.”
Your voice is soft and sweet, matching the expression on your boyfriend’s face. One hand is pressed between the hotel pillow and his messy hair, and his sleepy, cinnamon eyes look right into the camera.
“Just woke up, thinking about yooouuuuu…” he croons, dragging out the last word just as you did in your voice note. “What are you watching?”
“I don’t know, I just clicked on whatever Netflix suggested,” you reply. “Just trying to distract myself.”
“Is it good at least?” he asks, still gazing at you in complete adoration.
“It’s fine, I don’t care,” you insist, more interested in listening to the beautiful boy on your phone talk about literally anything. “How about you? Tell me about the tour.”
“Ahhh,” he starts, shifting his glance offscreen. “First show went well, another today.”
His eyes are pointed just under the camera now, and a tiny smile spreads across his lips.
“It’s beautiful here,” he says. “I keep thinking about experiencing all of this with you, though. We’ll have to come back.”
“Yeah, sure,” you answer dazedly. Hearing him say romantic shit with those lips… looking at you with those eyes… it’s mystifying.
When you started dating, his excitement would turn to concern when you zoned out like this, but now he knows better, and his smile only widens.
“I love you,” he says softly and stifles a giggle. “But hey, I gotta go. They need us for some press thing soon.”
You can’t hide the frown that pulls at the corners of your mouth.
“I know, I know,” he consoles. “I’ll be free later, and I’ll text you, yeah?”
“Ok, have a good day, talk to you later,” you answer weakly.
“Hey, 힘내. I’ll make it worth it,” he winks.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Love you.”
“Love you too, sweetheart.”
He blows a kiss and then he’s gone, leaving you to stare at your sad reflection on the black screen.
The minutes, then the hours pass. True crime episodes, supernatural thrillers, nothing can hold your attention. You’re drowning in thoughts of him, and every tiny chime from your phone sends your heart rate to the moon. It’s never him, but it doesn’t stop you from hoping.
A characteristically slow episode of this week’s hottest dating show has you half asleep, and you almost miss the alert you’ve been waiting for. Luckily, it’s followed by his ringtone a minute later.
“Hiiii??” you answer groggily.
“Hey, baby, enjoy your nap?”
Chan’s voice is barely louder than a whisper, and you decide a low grunt is enough to answer his question.
“Hehehe, I can’t talk but wanted to make sure you were up. Check your texts. Byyyeeee!”
He’s gone again, and you muster enough strength to navigate to your messages just in time to see the original text before a new one pops up.
Still filming, but I miss you too much
Get any deliveries today?
Not that I know of but let me check
You pad to the door, feeling the cool wood on your feet for the first time in hours. A quick peek into the hallway outside of the apartment reveals a medium-sized, plain cardboard box.
You bring it back to the couch — today’s haven — and drape the blanket back over you before placing the box in your lap and checking your phone.
흠…
Come baaccckkkk
There’s a box… what did you do
Did you open it?
The tape breaks easily, and inside is a note stamped with three small hearts sitting atop delicately folded tissue paper. Underneath, you find some lingerie, a mask, and two boxes varying in size.
Inside the first is a small suction toy, and the second contains a silicone dildo packaged with another note.
So you can feel me even when I’m not there…
A closer inspection reveals ridges and curves that seem almost familiar. You close your fingers around the base and slowly drag your hand toward the tip, feeling the same veins press against your fingers. How did he…
Is this…
Akskdnsnsksjsjskdjdnskskdjdnd
It was supposed to ship before I left I’m sorry it’s late
How the fuck did you do this
Will you try it out for me later?
I want to know how close it is to the real thing and you know it best
Chan oh my god
I’ll call in an hour when I’m back in my room ok…?
See you soon!!!
Of course he’d do something like this without warning you, but the timing couldn’t be better. What better to fill the hole left by his absence than, well, him.
A quick shower and trash run later, you settle in on the couch right as your phone rings for the third time today.
“Hey, sexy,” he hums. “Do you like your gifts?”
“Waited for you to try them out, but they do seem promising,” you tease, angling your phone down just enough to get some cleavage in frame. One corner of his mouth pulls back in a smirk, putting that dimple on full display.
“Cute… I’ve wanted to see you in that for weeks. But I do have a question, a proposition I guess…”
“Yeah? What would that be?”
“Can you prop up your phone so I can see you, and put the blindfold on?”
Hot, but also…
“So… I can’t see you then?”
“I want it to feel like I’m there, like I’m the one touching you, making you feel good,” he says as a light blush spreads across his cheeks. “I read somewhere this helps.”
“Oh, well, ok, yeah. You’ll keep talking though?”
“Of course, baby. I’ll talk you through it all.”
“Ok, hold on.”
You make quick work of leaning your phone against one of the many glasses on the coffee table, ensuring the whole couch is in clear view before stepping back and slowly sitting down. The suction toy rests on the cushion to your left, and the dildo on the right.
“Perfect, ok, now put the dildo on the floor,” Chan says. “There’s suction on the bottom, you can just stick it to the wood.”
You secure his cock on the ground between the couch and the table, and everything in you screams to just sit on it now and never take it out ever again. But he has other plans, so you’ll save that fantasy for later and sit back on the couch.
“Blindfold time, sweetheart.”
A deep breath in, and you slide the silk down over your eyes and place your hands on your knees, awaiting further instruction.
“All good?” Chan asks, excitement and concern laced together in his voice. “You can hear me ok?”
“Mhm, yeah. Ready when you are.”
Another giggle fills the space, and it’s clear he was right. In the dark, it’s easier to pretend he isn’t hundreds of miles away. Like he’s here, standing above you.
“I love that you got all dressed up for me,” he says, slow and low. “Can I see your pretty panties, too?”
Hands still on your knees, you gradually spread your legs until your calves hit the couch.
“That’s perfect, baby. They look so good on you, on your skin. I wish I could touch your skin,” he rambles a bit, then pauses before continuing. “Can you describe it for me?”
“My skin?”
“Yeah, touch yourself. Tell me how it feels.”
You place your fingertips just under your chin, lightly dragging them along your neck, down to your chest.
“It’s…. soft, smooth. I put that lotion you like on after my shower.”
“You did? Where else did you put it?”
“On my chest, my stomach, my thighs…” you respond, running your fingers down your body as you go.
“And your inner thighs? There, too?”
“Of course.”
He lets out a shuddering breath as your hand travels down to your legs, moving out to your knee via the top of your thigh and heading back on the soft, sensitive skin on your inner thigh. Fingertips stop just between thigh and crotch.
“What about between your legs? Can you tell me how it feels there?”
You slide a finger under the fabric, gliding across the freshly shaved skin with help from the slickness of your arousal. You make a point to bend your finger so your knuckle presses outward, making it clear exactly where you’re touching yourself — for the yearning viewer’s sake.
“It’s wet, silky… delicate.”
“Silky, huh? And how do you feel when you touch yourself there?”
“Good,” you reply a little too quickly, revealing the truth behind the calm, composed roles you’d both been playing. You’re sure he’s chuckling at you right now. If only you could see his face…
“How does that compare to when I touch you there?”
Thoughts immediately snap to him, his fingers, doing what you’re doing. Emulating his typical movements in the dark has you almost, almost convinced it is him. Him teasing you, tormenting you before unexpectedly dipping a finger or two inside. Asking how badly you want him, want his big cock…
“Baby, tell me what you’re feeling.”
“You,” you admit. “I feel… you.”
“Yeah?” he chirps, a hint of pride in his voice. “What am I doing? What do you want me to do?”
“Fuck me.”
“I don’t know if you’re ready for me yet. Gotta stretch you out first, play with your clit a little. Can you grab that toy for me?”
You reach for the suction toy on your left, hovering just over it until he confirms that’s what he wants.
“Yeah, use that for me. On your clit. It should feel like my mouth...”
You raise your hips to slide the thong down, giving yourself a better chance to use this correctly. Pointer and middle fingers spread your folds as you try your best to aim in the darkness.
The suction feels… strange. Interesting? You reposition it a few times and it’s nice, but not like oral, though. And you must look frustrated, because…
“Wow, it is really like I’m there…” Chan muses.
“Huh? How?”
“It’s just… taking you a bit… to find…” he giggles.
“Oh, shut up, you’re so… oh…”
Yep, there it is. The silicone circle surrounds the sensitive nub and pulls inward. It’s just like lips… and tongue… and Chan… relentlessly sucking and pulling with his face buried between your thighs and his hands gripping your hips and your fingers lodged in his hair…
It’s so good but it’s so much. Your head is spinning and your heart is racing and your toes curl down into the wood trying to ground yourself in any way you can. Your free hand alternates between squeezing the life out of the couch cushion and running along your skin — down your thighs, up your chest, through your hair. Nails dragging and leaving marks like you would on him, on his chest, on his back…
“Baby, come for me.”
His voice breaks through the haze like lightning cracking down from the sky, sending electric tingles through your veins. A strained cry escapes your throat as you do exactly what he said, what he ordered.
The high is short but intense, and you’re shaking well past the end. You let the toy fall to the couch and lean back, enjoying the aftershocks.
“You look so beautiful like that,” he hums.
“Mhhhmmm,” you sigh. “Hope you enjoyed the show.”
“We’re not done yet, sweetheart,” Chan whispers, but it’s louder now. Like his mouth is right next to the mic. “I want you to ride me.”
Finally.
You maneuver down to the floor and feel for the rigid silicone. You position your knees on either side and slightly in front of the dildo, then lower your ass down toward your feet until the tip brushes against your folds.
“Want daddy to spread you open? Split your walls around my cock?”
“Please,” you beg, reaching down to play with your swollen clit while rolling your hips forward and back, just rubbing the head against you.
“Spit in your hand and rub it on me.”
You do as you’re told again, coating the dildo in your saliva. It’s amazing how much it feels like him.
“Put me in… just a little.”
You angle the head into you. It’s just as big as him, and just as much of a shock when the tip disappears inside your body. You have inches to go, but you’re already starting to feel whole again.
“How does it feel?”
“Amazing, it’s so real. It feels like you.”
“It is me, baby. You feel so good, too. Can you pull your hair for me?”
The thought of it makes you moan, and the tug on the back of your scalp only increases the volume. You inch down slowly, giving yourself time to adjust to his size and appreciate every single vein and curve as it forces your walls apart. He stretches you out so well…
“Take me all the way. Now.”
A pained groan sounds out as you force yourself down to the floor, burying Chan’s cock in you down to his balls. The sound of them slapping against your soaked pussy makes both of you moan.
“Fuck yourself on my cock.”
You carefully raise and lower your hips, still not fully acclimated to his size. Each lift-up is bittersweet relief, and each push-down is delicious torment. You go faster and faster each time, urged on by his groans.
“Take off your bra. I wanna see your tits bounce for me.”
Fingers undo the clasp and you slide the garment over your shoulders and down your arms, still rolling your hips up and down, angling him into every inch of flesh inside you.
“Play with your nipple… wet your fingers and pinch it like I do. I want to hear you whine.”
This time, You use the wetness from your pussy to dampen your fingers before running one hard nipple between finger and thumb. His moans encourage you to reach down to gather more, but this time, you slide three fingers into your mouth and close your lips. You drag them out slowly, knowing it will drive him wild.
“Wanna taste me, baby?” you ask.
“More than anything in the world. What is it like?”
“Hmmmm,” you muse, taking time to wrap your tongue around each individual finger in the lewdest way possible. “Sweet… and salty.”
“Mmm, I want to lick you clean,” he confesses, “eat you for every single meal. I wanna live between your thighs.”
You fuck yourself faster now, bouncing up and down on his dick. He fills you up perfectly and completely, like he was made to your exact specifications. And this was made to his.
“Feels so good… so big…” you exhale, placing one hand behind you to steady yourself and using the other to twist and tweak your nipple.
“Yeah… and you feel so tight, you take my cock so well. Can you roll your body how I like?”
Shoulders back first, you wind your torso forward and back, taking extra care to roll your hips on his cock. Back and forth, back and forth. His name on your lips.
“That’s it, just like that. Good girl.”
Skin slaps from both ends of the call, and your shaky exhales happen almost in perfect unison. He must be close, and so are you.
“Ch… choke yourself. Squeeze that pretty neck.”
Fingers leave your tit to grip your neck and force your head back, just like he does when he leans in, hot breath on your skin, sucking hickeys into any flesh not hidden by his long fingers. Biting your ear, pulling down at the lobe and letting it snap back as you grind into his lap. Fucking yourself on his big cock at your own pace, tits bouncing in his face. He’ll catch a nipple between teeth if he can, biting down hard and letting go quickly. Just kissing and sucking and nipping at your skin like an animal… like a…
“Oh fuck!” you cry out, washed over by a wave of unstoppable pleasure. “I’m… Chan… I’m…”
“That’s it, come for me, come on me,” he hisses.
His cock relentlessly slams into you throughout your orgasm, so rhythmically you forget it’s not really him fucking you to pieces in his lap.
“Oh god… oh fuck, you… oh fuck…” he moans, finishing right after you in typical him fashion.
Vision blurs until you come back down, slowing your vertical pace until you’re sitting on him, motionless. He’s quiet now, too, undoubtedly recovering from his own orgasm.
“You are, that was…” he starts then trails off, opting to focus on breathing instead.
The tinny sound of his voice is almost a surprise. You practically forgot he wasn’t there. Forgot he wasn’t lying in ruins in the dark next to you.
You pull the blindfold off and toss it to the floor. He’s in a similar position as you, sitting at the foot of the bed looking wiped as hell.
“So… what’s the verdict?” Chan asks between deep breaths and sighs.
“It’s great. Not as good as the real thing, but close,” you decide.
“You look so amazing using it. Watching it slide in and out of you… god. It felt like a dream.”
Your eyes meet — as much as they can over FaceTime. You’re captivated by the image of him: shirtless, cock taut against his toned stomach, half hidden by the elastic waistband of his shorts. Eyeshadow is smeared around his wide, caramel eyes while a soft smile plays at his lips.
“I love you,” he says softly, breaking the silence.
“I love you,” you echo.
A few more seconds of quiet admiration, then he makes the face. The one he breaks out just before delivering bad news.
“Hey, I gotta get ready to head to the venue,” he says, glancing down at his watch. “I’m already a little late, oops.”
“That’s ok, thank you for… everything. Really,” you reply, still too far up in the clouds to be sad about yet another goodbye.
“I love you, I’ll text you after the show, yeah?”
“Perfect. Oh, and just so you know, I will be sleeping with this inside me tonight.”
His sullen expression fades into that famous smile, and it’s aimed at you.
“Oh, I’m sure you will,” he says with a chuckle and a wink. “Now I just need a replica of you…”
“We’ll make one when you get home.”
“Perfect.”
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dceasesd · 4 months
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why juni ba’s the boy wonder has my favorite jason characterization of any contemporary comic run: a needlessly in-depth analysis (pt.2)
alright here we are with part two! i promised i'd be quick with it, didn't i? you can find part one here. thank you guys so much for all the nice comments, i love yapping to a receptive audience :D
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so, if you haven't read part one, i've been going over the common critques of ba's characterization of jason, the main three being:
the typical boiling down of jason's character to "the angry one"
his lack of strategy going into the fight with the demon is out-of-character
the neighbor's kid interaction
in the first part we went over #1, so now were gonna look at #2!
so, a problem people have with the story is how ba writes jason's reaction to the fight with rok (white tophat demon guy); damian and jason jump into the fight with seemingly no preparation at all, "underestimating" rok and paying the price for it.
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i'll be honest, i do agree with this critque a bit. jason, if he is nothing else, is an obsessive planner and strategist; his back-up plans have back-up plans, and so on. we see this in plenty of his comic renditions, especially in lost days and under the red hood, where there are numerous examples of jason's competency. despite this, many comics fall into the habit of treating him as the "reckless, stupid robin", once again reducing his character to just his anger, usually to make the other robins more competent. looking at his actions in utrh & lost days, however, makes him jumping into a fight with no information uncharacteristic.
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so, i sort of agree with this critque. HOWEVER. i will attempt to rationalize this part of ba's writing (because there are still parts of it i disagree with and it's more fun than just agreeing and moving on)
alright, to begin, lets look at these three different series; utrh (under the red hood), lost days, and the boy wonder. there is obviously many other examples out there, but i'm just gonna focus on these three for now because otherwise we'd be here all day.
in utrh & lost days, jason is driven by an obvious goal with an obvious end result; in utrh his goal is making bruce kill the joker & taking over gotham's underbelly, and in lost days it is getting skilled enough to complete the previously mentioned objective. i also chose to highlight the scene where jason puts a bomb underneath the batmobile in lost days, intending to kill bruce, because it's another very clear example of jason's strategic prowess. the whole bomb thing even happens before jason starts his murder training, making the feat even more impressive.
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ba's jason, though, exists in a reality post-utrh; his plan failed and he must live with the consequences and implications of that truth. the recklessness that he presents in the fight in the boy wonder could be a representation of him grappling with this idea-- his supposed failure and banishment obviously must have had an effect on his psyche, and ba is attempting to portray that. ba plays a lot with the sadder side of jason's existence in the comic, so it's a plausibly theory, even if it is admittedly reaching a bit.
additionally, referring back to the earlier conversation about jason's anger in the first part of this discussion, i have the same sentiments about portrayal's of jason's recklessness. he can possess a strategic mind while still being reckless; it's his numerous paradoxical character traits that make him such an interesting character (at least to me). he's a mess of contradictions.
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furthermore, while jason's actions are reckless and brash in this specific instance of the story, that does not mean that ba presents him as a reckless character. there's a difference between a reckless character and a character being reckless, and i feel like jason mostly falls into the latter. while maybe not super obvious, jason's tactical-ness is still present in ba's portrayal. this is represented through damian's responses and reactions to jason.
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the fact that damian goes to jason for help in the first place is baffling. as a prideful kid desperate to prove himself, damian is not predisposed to asking for help, which is clearly presented in the first issue when he interacts with dick and babs.
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damian's willingness to work with jason could be a result of him recognizing their similarities; he's more approachable than dick "golden boy" grayson. beyond that, he goes to jason because he needs a certain set of skills to help him catch the demon.
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while jason is not able to fully present his usefulness at this task because the demon finds them first, he is clearly seen taking charge of the situation and dictating their plan to locate the demon, and damian actually defers to him. while brief, this instance represents that despite his recklessness in the battle against rok, ba still accurately presents jason's tactical skills, underscoring the intelligence he has that so many author's ignore or downplay.
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i could go into how this plays into jason being a foil character to damian, but i'll save it for another day. sorry if this post is a little nonsensical, i did my best. i'll finish up my analysis in part 3! :)
part 1 / part 3
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obsidian-pages777 · 2 months
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Pick a Card: Your own Persephone and Hades Love Story
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Left to right- 1->3
Introduction
This reading will give you, your own personalized rendition of a love story as if it were inspired and based on the mythology of Persephone and Hades. These two mythological entities were famously known to have had a deep, profound and, also to mention, a rocky ride of a journey in love. If you are interested in this Gothic theme of a potential love life , pick one of the piles above.
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Pile 1:
To represent your relationship you received The Lovers. This card signifies a deep and meaningful connection. Your love story will be one of profound passion and mutual respect. Just like Persephone and Hades, your bond will be transformative for the better as the Strength card showed up as well. You will both bring out the best in each other, finding balance in your differences.
To represent the challenge you will face in your love story you have received The Eight of cups, Wheel of Fortune reversed and the Nine of Wands. This indicates sudden change and upheaval. There will be challenges and disruptions, but they will serve to strengthen your relationship. Much like Persephone’s abduction, these challenges will lead to a new and stronger foundation for your love. There will have to be a letting go, loss and simply regrouping your strength so that it makes way for a refreshed energy. You might leave something important to you for this relationship to occur. This might not feel like the correct decision at first but you decide it is anyway.
To represent the sweet progression of your love story you have received the Page of Swords, Ace of Cups and Four of Wands. These cards bring hope and inspiration. After overcoming obstacles, your love story will be one of healing and renewal. You will have a reason to celebrate this journey with a beautiful gesture of commitment, such as a well thought out and creative proposal made by your partner to you. It could even be a destination wedding or an intimate and romantic engagement party of sorts that will be one that happens to be the hallmark of your relationship in the eyes of many, since there might have been speculations regarding the longevity of your connection because of your previously mentioned challenges. You will both emerge stronger and more connected, finding joy and fulfillment in each other's company.
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Pile 2
To represent the beginning of your profound love connection you have received The High Priestess. This card symbolizes intuition and mystery. Your love story will be marked by a deep, almost mystical connection. You will both understand each other on a profound level, much like Persephone and Hades, whose love was rooted in the underworld's secrets.
Secondly you received the card of Hades himself The Death. This card signifies transformation and new beginnings. Your relationship will go through significant changes, shedding old patterns and evolving into something entirely new. Just as Persephone's life changed when she became queen of the underworld, your love will transform you both. You might feel that this person has an air of intimidation to them. Despite your reluctant nature to consider the longevity of this connection as certain, you might still be drawn to them as though you are influenced by a mysterious force beyond your control. I feel as though this is a connection that your ancestors would require you to have this lifetime.
Thirdly and most conveniently you have received The Temperance card and The Two of Cups. These cards represent balance and harmony. Despite the changes and challenges, your relationship will find a beautiful equilibrium. You will both learn to blend your energies, creating a partnership that is both peaceful and powerful. After all you see each other eye to eye. There is a rightful place in each others hearts made just for the both of you.
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Pile 3
To start things off you have received The Ace of Pentacles and Six of Cups. These cards symbolize abundance and nurturing. Your love story will be one of growth, both emotionally and perhaps even physically. Like Persephone's role in the cycle of life and death, your relationship will be a source of renewal and creativity. You will feel that this connection is a fresh start for your life. You might have met this person before once upon a time, whether you recall it or not.
You have also received The Devil card. This card indicates temptation and passion. Your relationship will be intense and possibly a bit tumultuous, with strong desires and deep emotional ties. However, like Persephone and Hades, you will find strength in your connection, learning to navigate the darker aspects of love. Since this card speaks for itself there is not a necessity for another pull regarding the main challenge to be faced.
The Justice card is present here, it brings fairness and truth. Further you have received The two of Pentacles. Your love story will ultimately be one of balance and justice, where both partners are seen and valued equally. Just as Persephone balanced her time between the underworld and the earth, your relationship will find its own harmonious rhythm. There will be compromises made with proper communication as shown by the presence of the Ace of Swords to end off the reading.
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I was thinking of Beren and Lúthien and how their story is so much more interesting than they get credit for. I mean, on the surface it reads like a fairy tale but it also elevates the rest of the story, it uses common fairy tale tropes but turns them upside down, and the way we see the heroine asserting her agency in this story is so fascinating. I think the story of Beren and Lúthien provides much needed contrast for the rest of the Silm, and both become more poignant because of this contrast. 
The familiar fairy tale goes like this: there's a a poor but resourceful peasant, set with a difficult task (which is in fact designed to be impossible to complete), but thanks to some magical help he is successful, retrieves treasure, and as a reward he wins the king's daughter and lives happily ever after as a prince, gaining all the earthly glory one can have in this life. But in the Tale of Beren and Lúthien, the hero is a traumatised outlaw, the king's daughter IS the magical help, she is an active and equal participant in the quest for her own hand in marriage, the treasure may actually be cursed, the hero and heroine die, and the ultimate reward is not a social rise from rags to riches. Beren does not become a member of the power-wielding elite of Doriath and he and Lúthien are not promised that their second life will be happy or long. But just that chance is worth it, and by choosing it they actually change the course of history. Lúthien is offered all the bliss that is possible to have in Arda, if she will give up Beren, but she decides that the love she has for him is still more valuable. And that idea, of loving someone so much that your love shifts the world, is so compelling to me. 
And I love that the story of Beren and Lúthien is also a rendition of Orpheus and Eurydice, and that just as the world was created in the Music of the Ainur, so is Lúthien's song powerful enough to change what those original notes dictated. She changes it with hope and a song. That is so simple and yet so beautiful, in the way some of the best myths are. (Insane that this is essentially a love-letter to Edith Tolkien.)
There is this fascinating contrast between Beren and Lúthien: at the time of their first meeting, Beren has lost literally everything and his family is either dead or lost beyond retrieval. Stumbling across Lúthien, he is fresh from terrible ordeals and suffering. But Lúthien's life has been full of happiness and without care, and she has lived in a literal fairy kingdom as the most beautiful of all the Children of Ilúvatar. She could have her pick of any prince of Eldar. But here she comes across this mortal, who has nothing to give except for his love and even that only for a brief time, and she is willing to risk all she has for it. The gall and courage it takes to take such a chance! She chooses this man and her choice changes everything. 
And that is brilliant! Because Lúthien starts with so little power and agency, and she is constantly belittled or even abused by those with more power around her. She is treated as a pawn, her will is undermined and she is coerced and imprisoned to make her compliant. But Lúthien shows her determination and courage in holding fast to her choice even when it's just her and Beren against the world. In the end, she wins agency and freedom to determine her own tale. In her beginning Lúthien is a maid dancing in the woods; by the end she will have faced Satan and death itself, and changed the world forever. Truly, to call her story "Release from Bondage" is more than appropriate. How insane is this all from Beren's point of view? He has lost everything, he is an outlaw, and has nowhere to go. What is left of his family is scattered who knows where. He has nothing but the clothes on his back and nothing to give. But here is this immortal princess, and she will go to hell and back with him! She will cross the Sundering Sea to bid him farewell! She pleads with inexorable death and for her, an exception is made!  It's so on brand for Tolkien that these two achieve with their love, and precisely because they act out of love, something that others with armies behind their backs can't even imagine doing.
Yeah. It's such a good, hopeful, bittersweet tale.
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bullet-prooflove · 5 months
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The Last Time: Jack Reacher x Reader (NSFW)
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Tagging: @kmc1989 @castle-of-ruin @baconeggndcheez @alishageorgia @hal3ynicol3
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It’s past midnight and the stars are twinkling up in the sky as you and Reacher lie on a sleeping bag in the woodland near your house staring up on them. The trees rustle in the light breeze, the sounds of the forest a peaceful rendition.
Reacher’s fingers threaded through yours. The flames from the campfire illuminating his features, highlighting the freckles on his face. He’s more weather worn than you last time you saw him, his cheeks are grizzled, his skin a little more tan. He usually stops by every couple of months, shares your bed, walks your dog before he takes off again. He’s a nomad at heart, he always has been.
“This has to be the last time.” He says finally, swallowing hard against the well of emotion in his chest. “I can’t keep coming back here.”
You don’t say anything, not when he squeezes your hand just that little bit tighter or when he turns his head to survey your expression.
You know what the problem is.
Reacher is starting to settle.
His visits have been more frequent over the past year, he stays for longer, starts keeping things at your place. Nothing more than a couple of pairs of boxers and a t-shirt but they’re still there, still his. It’s the biggest commitment he’s made since retiring from the Army.
The man you first met arrived with only the clothes on his back, he didn’t need anything else and now he has a drawer in your dresser and his own mug in your cupboard.  
“Is that why you insisted we camp underneath the stars tonight?” You ask him quietly. “You wanted it to be special?”
“Something like that.” He tells you, his voice a little rough. The time you have together is incredibly meaningful to him, you’re the closest he’s been to another person in years which is why he has to let you go. He can’t afford to have any attachments, not with the way he attracts trouble.  
He rolls onto his side, his thumb ghosting over the apple of your cheek as he looks into your eyes.
“I want you to remember me.” He whispers, his lips brushing over yours. “Remember all the good we had together.”
He makes love to you that night, under the stars, the light of the campfire bathing your bare skin as he drives you to the pinnacle of release before he pulls you away again. He wants to keep you in freefall for as long as possible, to prolong the experience because Reacher, he isn’t ready for this to end, no matter what he tells you.
Your thighs clench around his hips, drawing him deeper. You can feel that climax building inside of you again, each wave washing over you, drowning you. Reacher’s hand comes to rest on your jaw, guiding your mouth back to his. He needs you to be immersed in him when you come, consumed completely because this is the memory he wants to leave you with, him loving you with everything he has.
He feels the exact moment the ecstasy hits you, you grip his dick so fucking tightly that you take him over the edge with you, his release spilling deep inside. He still doesn’t stop, he fucks it deeper, kissing you, touching you because Reacher, he’s not ready for it to be over, not yet.
“Jack…” You say quietly, your fingers threading through his hair as he buries his face into the curve of your throat.  “This doesn’t have to be goodbye.”
But it does because Reacher, he can’t the thought of losing you and that’s exactly what’s going to happen if he stays.
Reacher? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.
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itsvelyria · 8 months
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"types of date the f1 drivers would love"
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Charles Leclerc
Exercise Dates: Charles has a newfound love for workouts, he realises as he watches you expertly straighten your arms — the ones currently holding onto the weight bar like a pro. You had convinced him to join you in a morning yoga class, claiming it did wonders for mental health. Like the stupid in-love fool he is, he had agreed, on the condition that you would join him in a gym session. In his head, you were completely taken by his impressive show of strength in a new environment. That was not the case. And to make matters worse, the bicep curls you two had did earlier had resulted in a little, minor, unnoticeable tingle in the back of his spine that sent blood rushing to the bottom half of his body.
 
Carlos Sainz
Nature Dates: Mountains were for hiking and running and the occasional stargazing session when he was in the mood for it. What he was unaware of, was their ability to host camping sessions. But you did. And you had asked him with unmistakable joy in your twinkling eyes. So now here he was, sitting on a camping chair that you had set up. In fact, everything was set up by you — the chairs, tent, fire. You had even brought metal sticks specifically for roasting marshmallows, which was what the pair of you were doing now. He watched as you purposefully burned your marshmallow, fanning out the flames that had engulfed the treat. It was quiet in the background and unlike in the city, he found himself fully focused on you.
 
Daniel Ricciardo
Driving Dates: He thought you were mad when you brought up a road trip. But he went along, thinking that a little road trip through Australia couldn’t be that extreme. He was so wrong. First, because it wasn’t through Australia and second, because he had forgotten you were the one planning. So now here he was, listening to your off-tune rendition of Coast by Hailee Steinfeld as he drives through what he is 60% sure is Wanaka in bloody New Zealand. The weather could not be more perfect, with amber coloured leaves decorating the trees and ground and the morning sun still shining through the mountains. You offer a chip to him, holding the delicate thing out between your fingers. He takes it without a second thought. In his opinion, being with you made the best dates.
George Russell
Educational Experiences: It was supposed to be a public conference about dinosaurs at the Natural History Museum. And you had plans to go alone, take some time to yourself, enjoy the strange bout of nice weather London has been bestowed. George was the one who had invited himself and waited by the door. And how were you to say no, while the man was dressed like an academic, even going the extra mile of wearing glasses. So you spent a quiet, calming few hours listening intently to a few speakers then touring the museum with your hand tucked into his. It was a nice feeling, sharing your intellectual interests with him and having him actually pay attention unlike some other ex-boyfriends you've had. Maybe you would invite him on a few more dates like these from now on.
Lando Norris
Adventurous Outings: He had brought you because it was what he did as a child and you two were on a trip to visit his parents and hometown so it only made sense. Then he saw you having the time of your life, racing down straights and winding round corners. Your cheeks were flushed and your hair matted but you had clutched to his arms and asked if you could do another round. Now, it was his personal mission to bring you go-karting in as many tracks as possible. It also helps that he actually (secretly) likes losing to you, because you spend the rest of the day with the biggest grin on your face and nothing beats seeing you like that. He also likes the little kisses you give to comfort his "bruised ego", but he will deny it till the world ends.
 
Lewis Hamilton
Group Socializing: He loved this. He thinks he can die happy like this. Okay, maybe not. But this would definitely be one of the scenes that would flit through his mind while he was dying. The immense rush of serotonin that fills his brains and muscles when he sees you fluttering around the room should be studied. His eyes never leave your form, clad in a simple cream dress, the perfect contrast to the glow of your skin. You pour bubbly champagne for his friends and have little interactions with the kids scattered around the room which sends them giggling. The adults are enthralled by you too, countless eyes lingering on your form as you leave their small groups. He can’t blame them – being the most shameless one ever. But even so, he’s the only one who can wrap his arms around your tiny waist, pulling you into his chest, the beam on your lips the brightest thing he’s seen all day.
 
Max Verstappen
Romantic Retreats: Being away from his simulator for this long felt a little weird. He acknowledged the tingly feeling in the back of his spine every morning when he woke up in the largest bed he had ever seen, looking out onto the turquoise ocean. The sea breeze that greeted him this morning was cool, and his robe hung alone beside the bathroom door. The other was wrapped around the figure gazing out onto said sea out on the exposed balcony. Someone has been by the private island with breakfast, he notes, smelling the spread of breakfast foods from the adjoining dining room. He would join you soon, thick white robe around his shoulders and you between his arms, but until then, he lets the tingly feeling settle and just enjoys the view.
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terry-perry · 5 months
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Just Business?
Pairing: Alastor x Carmine!Reader
Part 2 to this imagine
Technically Part 3 if you wish to include these headcanons
Requested by @lokis-imaginary-friend: If you’re not averse to it I had a thought while reading this….what if y/n overheard this conversation and feels as though she’s being treated as a transaction. Idk I could just see some angst coming from this for y/n followed by whatever fluff you come up with.
Additional tags: @martinys-world
Fluff will come in a later chapter (hopefully). Enjoy!
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You walked home with a spring in your step. You were happy to find the perfect set of pajamas for your boyfriend. Alastor didn't require much sleep, based on the nights you spent together and he'd spend most of them watching you, lurking among the swamp in his room, or tending to the hotel. Regardless, you knew he wanted to look his best even at more casual hours like bedtime. It was great then that you found the red silk pajamas that were perfect for him, especially since you found a matching robe that reminded you of his regular attire.
It'd been about six months since you'd been together and things were going well. Now that things were public too, you enjoyed your time more freely. The fact you two were going out interested many people, with gossip of it being all over the news. Thankfully, the paparazzi weren't stupid enough to film your dates. They must've heard the screams of that one photographer who was bold enough to sneak a photo of you on a picnic date by the Lake of Fire. Alastor was sure to broadcast his torment over a rendition of La Vie En Rose as a reminder not to intrude on your alone time.
You knew the kind of man/demon Alastor was before you became a couple. You heard the stories as well as his broadcasts. You were there during the sudden disappearances of various overlords and how it coincided with said broadcasts. No sane sinner would want to risk getting involved with someone like him. Due to how more curious than afraid of him you were and how touched and important you felt whenever Alastor threatened others who disrespected you, you had an inkling that your sanity wasn't all there. That was okay with you; you were already in Hell.
Your mother approved of him as did your sisters, which resulted in another reason you grew to love him. He enjoyed spending time with your family, too, judging from how he'd come to dinner, joke with Clara and Odette, and share light pleasantries with Carmilla. You could see they were really warming up to him and vice versa.
You might not have tamed the beast, but it certainly amazed you how much of him you got to have for yourself. It was almost too good to be true.
You were finally home after spending some time at the mall. You don't know why your mother needed you out of the house but you didn't question it. She was sometimes wary of those who did business with the family and would rather let herself handle things. If she was still talking with them, you'd do your best to sneak into your room.
Upon entering the manor, however, you heard your mother say some things that made your ears perk up:
"You won't do anything unless you know it'll benefit you. It's why you're with my daughter in the first place, right?"
Her daughter? Who exactly was she talking about, and to whom? Her voice was coming from the library it seemed. You did your best to creep over and stood outside to hear more. What came next was certainly a shock:
"Y/N is quite a lovely lady with a certain sweetness and intelligence that I find endearing. If she so happens to come from a powerful family, then who am I to not want to get closer to someone who can mean a lot to me?"
You felt sick to your stomach just then. What was that; did you hear that correctly? He made it sound like you were just a pet to him - a mere plaything with a purpose.
A humiliating desire to cry swept through you, along with a small hope that your mother would put him in his place. She wouldn't take someone using her daughter lightly.
"If I were you, I'd do the same, I suppose,"
Now that's what brought out the tears.
What the hell was going on?
"You'll continue to treat her well. You'll continue to meet her, talk with her, and if it gets to that point, marry her."
Breathing became difficult as this unexpected betrayal weighed on your broken heart. Was this all just a plan between Alastor and your mother? Was this all a big matchmaking con that would lead to good benefits for them?
"You're smart enough to know that you should treat this like any other transaction."
You never thought your mother would have the gall to sacrifice your happiness for business purposes. She was always the type to lay her life on the line for you and your sisters. She did just that during the last Extermination Day when facing a team of Exorcists. To hear that the woman you grew up admiring treated you like a piece of property was too much to handle.
Let's not forget about Alastor! You actually believed he cared about you. Were all those times you went out on lunch and dinner dates, spent time with each other's loved ones, and shared intimate dances just part of a ruse to get you to fall for him? The fact you were nothing but entertainment with benefits saddened and embarrassed you because what everyone said about him was right.
You were right; this was all just too good to be true.
You now were fueled with anger and decided to use it to confront the two traitors.
"A transaction?"
Upon hearing your voice, Carmilla and Alastor turned towards the doorway where you stood defiantly with the Carmine glare on your face. Your normally well-composed mother expressed more worry than you ever saw her with. Meanwhile, Alastor kept his large grin as usual, but you could tell he was shocked due to how big his eyes were, and it almost looked too painful for him to smile.
"Y/N-"
"Is that all I am to the two of you?" You asked, blinking back tears. "A business deal - just a prize to be won? Is that why you needed me out of the house Mom? To discuss my dowry?"
Carmilla's astonishment kept her from speaking. She wanted to explain that this was simply a way to assure you a good future if you continued things with Alastor and that no harm would come to you, but she was at a loss for words seeing how betrayed you looked.
"And you Alastor!" You rounded on him next. The man you loved for half a year but now don't even know what to make of him. He's practically a stranger now. "I knew you weren't a saint, but I didn't think you'd stoop so low as to only date me for my family. I can't believe you'd use me like that!"
"Y/N," he began, getting out of his seat to go towards you with more emotion than you ever saw him, even with his smile remaining. "Sweetheart, you misunderstand -"
"You saw me as nothing but a prize," you uttered quietly, backing away from him with your head down. "You already have connections to the throne, so it's best to protect it with your connection to the biggest collection of weapons in Hell, right?"
His silence spoke to you more than any clever words he could conjure up for you. His silence spoke the truth.
You didn't stay much longer, especially since neither could bother to give you a proper response. You ran out of the house, ignoring their pleas to stay. You needed to get away and reflect on everything.
Alone.
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batfambrainrotbeloved · 5 months
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Heres a half assed rendition of the gala scene in my fic "The Drakes Spoiled Brat. (im sorry dad)"
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(God once again I curse tumblr for fucking up clarity- BUT oh well- also I like half gave up after finishing the fucking towers and Tim SO the rest just work)
Also Jason still has the white hair but from exposure to Joker chemicals because im attached and its iconic.
(Link + Summary below if interested, just reposted from my last blog)
Name: As above Rating: General Audiences Chapter: 4/?? Word count: 13,545 Relationships: Batfam + Extended DC friends/fam Summary: After the time stream and Batfams continued deterioration, Red robin goes 100% solo and ends up dying from a fatal shot in the middle of Siberia.
His last regret was not being able to do more for his family, and hoping his death would give them a chance to come together again. Only SUPRISE- Tim wakes up now freshly 5 y/o with his 17 y/o mind, the Graysons just died and he is determined to fight for his families happily ever after. As a result Red Robin dies, but Cardinal is born. Tim Drake is hidden, covered up by "Timothy Drake" a spoiled socilite brat, an easy cover he learned from his dad himself.
But all secrets come out eventually, and the truth is only half the process of healing.
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notoh-dev · 1 year
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The Doctrine of Perseverance (Re)Announcement
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The Doctrine of Perseverance is an indie horror and mystery game currently in development. It is being developed in RPG Maker MV and includes visual novel elements. A freeware demo was released in 2016. At the time of initial demo release, I was a senior in high school. Since then, I have spent many years developing my art and have returned to my first project. The game is still early in development, so everything is still subject to change, but I still hope you find interest in my project! I'd like to showcase some updated portraits from the 2016 version.
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Melrose, the main character. The story begins on her thirteenth birthday (this portrait not yet shown), where a traumatic house fire takes place. Three years later, on Melrose's sixteenth birthday, the events of the past manifest themselves once again, showing that what happened on that day is far from over.
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Suzetta, a childhood friend of Melrose. A stark contrast to Melrose, she is upbeat, mischievous, and more often than not, the most mature in their friend group. Her father is a close friend of Melrose's mom, Florence.
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Silas is a friend of both Melrose and Suzetta and also Suzetta's neighbor. His family harbors distrust toward Melrose's family and the renowned 'founding families' in the city of Noxton.
For those interested in the previous rendition of the game, @flareblitzedyt has a great playthrough and playlist featuring it on Youtube. Although, I must advice that many story elements have changed since then.
The previous demo was taken down a couple of years ago, but the game page for it is still up. I intend to update it in the future. Thank you for reading, stayed tuned for additional information and screenshots!
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halfagone · 8 months
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Cassandra Cain and Communication
I've been noticing an interesting trend in DPxDC fanfics lately where people write Cass like she's psychic, or in simpler terms: she can read someone and in an instant know how to help them. And while I can definitely see the merits of this kind of approach, there are a lot of things to keep in mind.
I cannot stress enough how isolated Cass' childhood was. When it's said that David Cain trained her only in the language of killing, it is not an exaggeration. In many early renditions of her character, Cass cannot speak at all, and if she can, only in short, brief sentences. Cass goes the first seventeen years of her life not knowing how to read.
That is a canonical plot point too. We see Barbara teaching Cass to read in Batman Volume 1 #567:
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Based on the context surrounding this scene, this is a regular occurrence between the pair. Cass has also sought out Stephanie before to read something for her (Batgirl Volume 1 #20). If you're curious about more analysis surrounding this particular subject, this post has some interesting points and shows the gradual shift in how DC handled her character.
But this is early into her time with the Batfamily. What about later on, when she's more assimilated to the Waynes and her fellow vigilantes?
Well, you don't even have to be a hardcore comic fan to see how she continues to struggle with expression and communication. In Wayne Family Adventures, episodes 32 and 33, we see how Cass' ability to read body language has also hurt her and her relationship with the people around her.
She doesn't mean to hurt Stephanie's feelings in these episodes, but the damage is real and it happened. Cass means well, ultimately, but she still doesn't know how or when to address these problems. She sees that Steph is hurting and wants to help; those are all admirable qualities! But in the end, she only pushes Stephanie further away, and is left feeling guilty and carrying self-loathing in the wake.
Here is also a reminder: Cass killed her first man at the age of 8 years old, and consequently ran away from her father when she realized killing was wrong. She did not know what he felt was fear. She did not know the definition of fear, nor the word for it. She just saw the expression on his face as he died, and realized that something was wrong, and ran away.
Cass doesn't arrive to Gotham until she's 17 years old, around the No Man's Land era, if I remember correctly. She is on the run for 9 years in this time, and sadly, she did not pick up many- if any- language or communication skills during this period. This isn't a fault on her character either, when she likely had to keep moving and didn't have time to connect with anyone like she did with Barbara, who could teach her how to speak and read.
But at the end of the day, it makes sense that Cass doesn't know how to socialize. Think of a real life example: some kids who grow up homeschooled struggle to make connections once they reach adulthood and start looking for a job. They've never had to make small talk, or address strangers face-to-face, so they don't know how to interact with people. Cass' situation is a more extreme version of this scenario, but with blood, brutal training, and child abuse involved.
At her core, Cass is a good person. And she will continue to be that good person. But she doesn't always have the answers. Nobody does! She'll continue to help people to the best of her abilities, but sometimes those abilities can be limited.
Cass is not a perfect person. When Bruce was lost in the timeline, and the remaining Batfamily members started to splinter and fall apart in the wake, Cass didn't remain in Gotham to help with the rising violence with Batman's absence. Instead, when her family needed her most, she went to Hong Kong, because she didn't want to be there without Bruce. She did briefly meet Tim in Paris, when she had saved him from the Daughters of Acheron, but she still doesn't accompany Tim, nor does she return to Gotham even after finding out the city is extremely understaffed.
Cass is well-meaning, but she is not faultless. We might not like to acknowledge the flaws of our favorite characters, but those flaws are a part of them! Just like how Bruce consistently fails to express himself is a part of his. Or how Dick tries to pretend that everything is fine so he doesn't have to address his own problems. Or how Jason can be inconsistent with his motivations and people get hurt as a result. Or how Tim keeps too many secrets and pushes people away, ruining multiple relationships in turn.
I could go on and on, but all these characters are more than just their flaws. The same thing with Cass.
So don't be afraid to show a Cass that doesn't know how to fix things. Don't be afraid to show a Cass that doesn't know what to do, but just tries her best. It's one of her most admirable qualities: always trying no matter what.
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feartoxinjelloshot · 9 months
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clipsverse SWAP AU! for fun! character elaboration under the cut because it gets kind of wordy:
selina's deal is pretty straightforward: she has the typical “saw parents die as a child" backstory, but she’s obviously not a millionare so she’s operating out of some kind of condemned underground parking lot... somewhere. authentic gotham grunge i guess. she’s a functioning alcoholic and i am obsessed with her. she's a hardboiled detective like batman, but tends to be a bit more cynical - sort of like if rorschach from watchmen was a normal person and also didn't hate sex. firefly is her "guy in the chair" similar to what alfred is to batman in canon, minus the surrogate parent part, obviously. public opinion is pretty split on if the bat is a man or a woman under there. i don't really have swap ideas for the robins ironed out, but i'm thinking that cass and stephanie are her robin and red hood equivalents (cass being dick, stephanie being jason). cass would have an allblack bird theme going on, so she might be "crow" or "blackbird" instead of robin. dunno what stephanie's red hood rendition is like. purple hood? i'll figure it out eventually.
bruce’s parents are alive, but he has a terrible relationship with them and with his own wealth so he mitigates the guilt complex by dressing up as a cat to steal and redistribute resources to people who actually need it. he could probably do that in daylight but there is something very wrong with him. i don't think his dumb slutty playboy persona is entirely genuine even without his parents' deaths, but he does lean into it more and incorporate parts of it into his vigilante persona over time. i think this version of bruce is just generally very lonely under the surface. he tries to be normal in his daytime life and he's very bad at it - theft aside, in a certain sense being the cat(man? woman?) is his own break for freedom; he felt a need to plunge himself far into the deep end of what normal society calls a 'freak'. ...writing it out like this, we're probably lucky he didn't start killing people. fortunately batman isn't really that kind of guy in any universe.
meanwhile on the other side of the rails: ivy! her deal is slightly unformed right now due to the fact that the hatter and the joker also swap places in this au - so the hatter is a dangerous, evil mastermind intent on controlling gotham to suit their whims, and the joker is... just a harmless silly little guy. yeah. i don't have swap-hatter's exact personality ironed out yet, so detailing his and ivy's dynamic would be difficult, but i can say that while she is his loyal second-in-command at his table of advisors, she is also plotting against him. ivy is a consistent loner in both mainline cv and here, and while she doesn't have the same tumultuous, antagonistic, emotional relationship with him as harley does with the joker, she is also frankly not interested in being his number one until the end of time. she wants to do it herself and she wants to do it right. this is an ivy who, in lieu of her own world-altering gift, is scraping tooth and nail to successfully supersede the most powerful entity she can her her hands on. the hatter is blissfully unaware of this - we can't all be perfect.
harley, for her part, is very tame in comparison. she mirrors ivy's canonical backstory pretty closely: an esteemed scientist studying stem cell relations who was denied funding, mocked, and forced to experiment on herself to prove a point, unwittingly connecting herself to a worldwide hive-mind of plantlife. this version of harley, while still dressed as a scientist, is far more surface-level emotionally volatile than mainline ivy, more impulsive and irrational, and probably willing to lean much farther into the classic poison ivy reputation as a villainous seductress, to varying degrees of honesty and success. it takes ivy an incredible degree of patience and control to maintain the mental and physical balance she strikes with the green, and this version of harley has far less of both. she lets it use her body as a conduit of earthly rage and she lets the poison infect her skin and organs until mottled and decaying. she's not unhappy, but she's not exactly stable, either.
jonathan is a mysterious, faux-sleazy lounge singer who lost his left arm to a snake bite infection as a child and thereafter became obsessed with the symbolism of the balance of life via games, tricks and questions - winning and losing, birth and death, etc. the ouroboros is a common symbol in his theatrics. he possesses a certain degree of social confidence that the mainline jonathan has never quite been capable of - while he doesn't have the same fervent need for attention as edward, he takes a compulsory delight in the mental influence he achieves on small crowds and will employ many avenues to get ahold of it. he's certainly not outgoing: he keeps almost entirely to himself offstage, uninterested in fame outside of his show persona. unlike mainline jonathan who views the scarecrow as a genuine self-inflicted diety, this jon sees his persona as more of a mantle or responsibility that he must take on in order to discover new truths about the world. like his canon counterpart he is asexual and uninterested in sex, but i imagine that he has less qualms about leading people on as an act to get what he wants from them. he's not terribly famous in his singing career, but he's become a bit of an underground legend for his resolute 1920s-inspired style and occasional genuine debonair charm.
edward in comparison is not nearly as ritualistically compelled as mainline scarecrow, but he’s far less cagey about his own machinations and his mental relationship to them: he lives in a tricked-out barn somewhere on the far outskirts of gotham, and he spends his time as a propmaster creating elaborate saw-trap-esque haunted houses and escape rooms to invoke panic in his “guests”. he wanders the halls of his own houses along with the guests, repairing and tinkering, or just scaring the shit out of them. he also makes a genuine living by making and selling cosplay props and other related objects online; he's developed a bit of an internet presence through this channel, though he's not as fixated on it as the mainline riddler would be. he still craves spectacle and attention, but he's more of a "quality over quantity" guy according to his own standards and is rarely happy with the work he creates, hence the endless roundabout of creation and reinvention.
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🥃 Guess I’ll have to find something else to do with my mouth… 🥃
✎ Pairing: Chan x fem!reader
✎ Genre: Smutty smut smut smut
✎ Summary: Chan did not want to go to karaoke night, but good god is he thankful he did.
✎ CW: !!!Sewerslide joke!!!, drinking, swearing, random hookup, public makeout, oral sex, unprotected sex (please don’t fuck a stranger without a condom), rough sex, nipple play, choking, teensy daddy kink
✎ Word count: 2,804
✩ The song is Lovesick by BANKS, listen if you’d like 😈 ✩
❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥
Ice meets upper lip when Chan throws his glass back to get the last drops of his drink. He hasn’t been working on this one long, but the whiskey’s been watered down by the melting cube — it may have come watered down from the bar, to be honest.
Regardless, it’s his fourth drink and he’s buzzed enough that it doesn’t matter. And on top of that, he’s bored.
“Want another?” Minho shouts over the loud backing track and off-key, wailing vocals.
“Naur, I’m about ready to head out, I think,” Chan yells back.
They swore karaoke night was Tuesday, but apparently, it’s Wednesday. Chan just wanted to go home; Minho convinced him to stick it out. But the lights are too bright and the singers are too drunk and he’s never been more ready to leave a bar in his life.
Minho’s still nursing drink #2 and scanning the room with his dark eyes. It’s the usual crowd, and Chan lost interest in meeting anyone new around the same time that one guy absolutely butchered Someone Like You by Adele. And this rendition of We Don’t Talk About Bruno has him ready to blow his brains out.
“Oi, I’m gonna get some air,” Chan says, gesturing toward the door with his thumb. “Meet me outside when you’re ready to go, yeah?”
Minho nods in reply and turns his attention back to a group of girls huddled by the stage.
Chan pats his friend on the shoulder and heads to the door — and sweet relief for his eyes and ears — skillfully weaving through the crowd as he goes. His hands meet the cold metal of the push bar but pause as soon as he hears it.
“Please call me your baby, baby, baby.”
It’s a new song, a new girl. Your velvety voice quite literally stops him in his tracks.
“Look how long that you have kept me waiting.”
He turns around, almost in a trance, and moves in the direction of that beautiful sound.
“Oh, I know your love before I kissed you.”
Chan joins the crowd circling the stage. He’s not the only one absolutely transfixed right now.
“And now you have only made me miss you.”
It’s not only the way you’re singing, it’s everything about you. The way your long hair drapes over your bare shoulders, the way your hips sway back and forth with the slow beat, the way you’re gripping that microphone…
“Come get me. Come love me, baby, come love me.”
The magnetic pull between you is impossible to fight, and Chan’s pushing through the crowd to get right up to the stage now. It’s not dense, but moving past bodies requires some effort and even more apologies, and he’s not nearly as smooth with it as he was just a minute earlier.
“Ooh, aah, cause I'm lovesick, and I ain't even ashamed.”
His dark eyes travel up your bare legs, and he’s not ashamed either. Any anxiety he would’ve felt in this moment of obvious adoration has been numbed by the alcohol.
Luckily for you, the lights are right in your eyes and you can’t see any of your audience, including the handsome stranger whose gaze is fixed on your thighs.
“And I'm hard up, for some time in your sheets.”
Warm blood rushes to Chan’s cock, filling it up and stretching his jeans in seconds. The thought of you in his sheets…
“Would you be down to spend all your time with me?”
He absolutely would. And he stands there, almost eerily still, for the rest of the song. Head entirely empty of everything but thoughts of the siren in front of him.
“Cause I'm lovesick.”
You finish the song smoothly, but you have no idea how your friends convinced you to get up there in the first place. You’re nowhere near drunk enough for this, and you have every intention of immediately booking it to the bathroom to hide.
Lights dim as you take a tiny bow and step off the platform. You set off on a clear path to the restrooms before a big, broad stranger cuts you off.
His coffee-flavored eyes are wide and his lower lip is clenched between his teeth, and he just stares at you. It’s so intense, and if he weren’t possibly the most beautiful human you’d ever laid eyes on, it would be incredibly unsettling.
“Uh, excuse me…” you say, attempting to walk around him. But he grabs your wrist.
“I’m sorry, I… uh,” he stutters, staring down at your hands. Even he’s surprised at his urgency. What the fuck is he doing?
“I’m so sorry. I’m Chan,” he says, his firm grip on your arm disappearing before he continues. “You were, you are… wow.”
Eyes meet again, and his cheeks are flushed. But after that performance — and whatever the hell this is — yours are, too.
“Oh, thanks. I’m y/n,” you reply, finishing just before the next singer starts his assault on your ear drums.
You both wince, and his big lips turn down into a scowl. But his expression softens again when he not-so-slyly glances down to your chest and back up.
“You’re really beautiful, you know?” he asks, his husky voice straining to be heard over the music. “You here alone?”
Chan’s trying his best to feign confidence, but his heart is pounding. He hasn’t done anything like this in so long and you’re so sexy and he’s so… dizzy.
“Wow, straightforward, huh? I’m with friends,” you say, gesturing over to the huddle of girls by the bar, ready to pounce at the slightest signal of distress. “Very protective friends, clearly.”
“I can see that,” Chan answers. He rotates his hand in a small wave, but their expressions don’t change. No points to be won there. He’ll have to charm you on his own. “Can I buy you a drink?”
“Sure, I guess.”
“You guess?”
“I don’t think you need another, honestly,” you say with a smirk. And you’re right. He’s speeding down the highway, two miles past tipsy and about to get off at drunk. But he’s also at his most confident. And that means he can say something sober Chan would never.
“Hm, you may be right. Guess I’ll have to find something else to do with my mouth.”
Your eyes narrow at him. He has this dumb smug look on his face while he waits for your reaction. The smirk only depends as more seconds pass.
“I guess I can get that drink at yours?”
Bingo.
“Shall we?”
Three texts, two attempts at calling an Uber, and one sloppy backseat saliva-sharing grope session later, you’re stumbling over each other up the stairs to Chan’s apartment.
Your hands haven’t left his body since you got in that Uber, and the same goes for his. Now you’re pulling at his hair, his shirt, his neck — anything to keep your mouths attached and get closer to privacy, to a socially acceptable place to be this feral.
Feet finally reach flat flooring and you shuffle to Chan’s apartment door. He has no clue where his keys are right now but he doesn’t particularly care. He’s focused on trapping your body between the door and him, pressing his palms into the wood and pushing his thigh between your legs.
Lips are past swollen at this point, and he’s focusing on your neck now, sucking and biting any spots that aren’t already coated in his spit. However many hickeys he’s already left on the delicate skin there — it’s not enough. And there aren’t nearly enough on your chest.
So, he heads there next, fondling one breast over your dress and nipping at your collarbones. Even if you’re only his for tonight, he’ll make sure you remember him every time you glance at your reflection for the next week.
One of your hands runs through his dark curls and the other grips the doorknob, trying to will it open. Keys are still an afterthought, though. His unoccupied hand is headed under your dress, between your legs.
He presses four fingers flat against you, and your head tips back against the door with a thud. He’s happy to discover that your panties are soaked through, and he can’t wait much longer to taste you.
If you two don’t tumble through that doorway soon, he’ll just have to take you right here in the hallway. But he’d prefer to have you laid flat, spread open, and writhing on his kitchen table. Time to find those keys.
Fingers fumble through his pockets, and of course he finds everything but what he needs. Phone, ID, cards, receipts, a condom, and more fall to the floor in his frantic search. Then, finally, keys. Fuck it, he’ll get the other shit later.
He makes quick work of unlocking the door and twisting the knob. The weight of your body pushes it open, and his hands reflexively go to your waist to keep you upright as you make your way to the table.
Chan swipes the miscellaneous papers and dishes to the floor and lifts you onto the cold wood. Lips reattach and he reaches for your pussy, slipping his fingers under the wet fabric to feel your folds.
You relax into his touch and slide your hips closer to the edge of the table. He drops to his knees and pulls you forward that extra inch to yank your underwear down your legs and onto the floor.
He sloppily sucks on your inner thighs, leaving a trail of red, swollen flesh on his way to your cunt. Once he gets there, he spits on you and dives right in to taste the combination of liquids on your sensitive skin.
Chan’s plump, pink lips are slick and saliva runs down his chin while he spreads your folds and dips in and out of you, savoring the flavor on his taste buds.
He locates your clit and prods it with a pointed tongue before flitting up and down. He alternates between targeting the sensitive bud to elicit more nectar out of you and lapping at your folds to indulge in the results of his hard work.
Chan has every intention of making you come with just his mouth, and the way you’re gripping the table and trembling and moaning makes him think that’s happening soon. And like clockwork…
“Hey, I’m… gonna…” you pant, trying your best to speak between breaths.
He doesn’t reply. He only grips your ass cheeks harder and buries his face further into you, and that’s enough.
Walls flutter around his tongue as you hit your climax, and you cry out loud enough for the neighbors to hear. He suctions his mouth against you to catch any additional arousal you have to give. It’s so sweet and tart, and he truly cannot get enough.
Your supporting arms give out and you collapse onto the table, satisfied and twitching from the aftershocks. Oh, but he’s not done with you. Not by a long shot.
Chan unzips his pants and reaches under his boxers to play with his thick cock. This is exactly what he pictured when he first laid eyes on you. Head thrown back, chest rapidly rising and falling, thighs parted, cunt dripping. What a beautiful sight.
“You want my cock, baby?” he asks, still stroking himself behind the fabric. He loves the reveal, so he’ll keep his length hidden for now.
You lift your head and lock onto his eyes.
“Please, show me.”
“I don’t know if you can handle it,” he teases.
You scoff at that pretentious shit.
“Try me, daddy.”
“As you wish, baby girl.”
He drops his underwear and unveils his veiny erection. It is impressive, but it’s even better that he knows how to use it.
His hands grip your hips, and he pushes in slowly, giving you time to adjust to his size. He can’t hold back a throaty moan the first time his whole cock disappears inside you. It feels so fucking good, he forgets where he is for a second.
“Fuck me,” you hiss.
And then he’s back on Earth, pounding in and out of you at an unrelenting pace. Your legs wrap around his hips and your back arches off the table as you shudder beneath him.
Chan reaches for the straps of your dress, pulling one then the other down over your shoulders. He works the fabric down past your chest, freeing your breasts to bounce up and down with each thrust.
“Fuck…” he groans. How the hell are your tits perfect, too? The hardened peaks are just begging to be sucked, bitten, claimed.
He sacrifices a steady rhythm to put his lips on your skin again. His large frame descends so he can catch one taut nipple between his teeth. The bite isn’t too hard, but he’s pulling at the sensitive nub every time he rolls his hips.
You manage to pull enough air into your lungs to speak between moans, but he’s not sure if he heard you correctly.
“Say that again?” he urges.
“Ch-choke me.”
“Oh, fuck. Absolutely,” he growls.
His cock throbs inside you, and if he weren’t so excited about making you come again, he would’ve finished right then and there.
His huge hand engulfs your throat, pressing your neck down into the table.
“Smack me if I’m too rough, ok?” he says.
You respond with a half-hearted thumbs-up, too focused on the fire in your abdomen to think about much else.
He resumes those merciless thrusts in and out of your cunt, closing his hand around your neck just enough as he goes. He has no idea how he’s lasted this long and — as much as it pains him — he has to close his eyes in an effort to hold back his own orgasm until you find yours.
His field of vision is dark, but the sound of his balls slapping against wet flesh is hard to tune out. He can barely catch his breath and you’re whimpering and he can’t do this anymore. Good thing you can’t, either.
“Chan, I’m… don’t stop. Fuck, I’m, ohhh…” you cry.
“Me too. C-cum. Cum for me.”
He tightens his grip on your throat and jerks into you with one last powerful thrust. A choked sob escapes from your tortured throat and your walls clench around his cock, holding him there while he spills himself deep inside you. Your name is the only thing on his lips.
His fingers leave your neck and rest softly on your collarbones. His chest drops, and he lays his head on your breasts to try to catch his breath.
It takes a few minutes for the tremors to stop, but you both recover as best you can. Chan pulls out of you and disappears down the small hallway to get a towel for cleanup. You still haven’t moved when he returns, and a sly smile spreads across his lips.
“Oi, all good down there?” he chirps.
You respond with the same weak thumbs-up from earlier, making him giggle. God, he hopes this isn’t just a one-night stand.
He does his best to clean the mess, wiping his saliva from basically every inch of your skin. The towel can’t do anything for the tiny bruises, though.
Hickeys litter the flesh from your jawline all the way down to your inner thighs. And then there’s the thin outline of his long fingers on your throat. He really did a number on you, and he can only hope you won’t be too mad.
“So, still want that drink?” he asks.
“Hmm, maybe. If you’re up for it,” you mutter.
“Of course, what’s your poison? I have beer, whiskey, scotch, gin…” he says, padding over to his well-stocked alcohol cabinet.
You interrupt before he can reach the end of his list.
“I was thinking of something… else,” you purr.
He turns on his heels to re-route for the fridge, trying to remember what he has in there.
“Sure, like… watuh? Soft drink? Juice?”
He’ll run to the store for whatever it is if it’s not here. He’d do absolutely anything to get you to stay the night.
You don’t reply, and he turns again to meet your eyes. But your gaze is pointed down, aimed directly at his dick. He takes a second to process.
“Wait… you want…” he trails off and instead uses his pointer finger to gesture toward his crotch.
That same sly smile spreads across your lips this time. Jesus Christ.
Rehydration mission abandoned for the time being, he strides back to the table and climbs on top of you, propping himself up with palms placed on either side of your head.
“Ready when you are, baby.”
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