#they edit ''who the hell do you think you are'' to just who do you think you are
CIY- CH 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
📍Pairing: detective ateez ot8 x detective afab reader
📍Summary: "Turning Point"
📍WC: 3.3k
📍AU: detective/mafia
📍Genre: action, dark themes, poly romance
📍Warning(s): 18+ rating, some angst, dark themes implied, oral (male receiving), body piercings, cum-eating, semi-public sex, slight voyeurism/exhibitionism
📍Nets: @pirateeznet | @mirohs-aurora-society
📍Beta readers (and sole motivation): @flurrys-creativity , @candypop1611 , @yourfatherlucifer , @skteezcursed and edited(usually) by the amazing: @daemour
📍dividers made by: @cafekitsune
📍AN: As a birthday gift to me (9-24) I am posting this hecka early. But also annoucing that there will not be another CIY posting until after October (most likely. who knows, i might get impatient myself) as ill be focusing on Kinktober and some fics i have planned for October! There are 6 chapters left (roughly) so please enjoy <3
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Three weeks. Three weeks had gone by and you had to admit, you missed them. Well, some of them.
Wooyoung’s incessant need for you. San and his flirting- his dimples. Yeosang’s cute little lisp and the sound of him tapping away on his keyboard. Hell you even missed hearing Mingi fuck others and keeping you awake at night.
You might even miss Jongho’s constant scowl in your presence.
Seonghwa had been taking you to and from the club every night, five nights a week, and would tell you to rest the other two. You wouldn’t come into the office but now you wanted to. Maybe then you could do something about this odd bundle of emotions in your stomach.
Yeosang sent you instructions on how to fill out a report of your undercover work on the program he installed in your laptop, which automatically stored the vital information and categorized and compared it with the rest. So in short, now you couldn’t even tell them about the new rumors you’ve picked up at the club.
At least now you knew why they were so busy, far too busy for you. The Vipers and the Wolves were still at each other’s throat, fucking up cash grabs, stealing product, or raiding known businesses of the other. San told you he was cleared to head back to fighting soon, and it worried you that the Wolves would hit the fighting ring while he was there.
But, what could you do about it?
Undercover work was something that took months to years to gain enough influence to make a difference. You were nothing more than a fly on the wall gathering information, searching for weaknesses to use against the big players. A slip up that could get them behind bars.
Once more you thought of the dead boy in the alley. Once more you pictured someone else as that dead body. And once more you realized that, as a detective, there was nothing you could do to prevent that. It was a frustrating feeling.
And that’s why you found yourself heading to the gym on your next free day, ready to punch the frustration out or work up enough of a sweat that your muscles would be screaming at you until tomorrow.
It was a nice sweet surprise to find Hongjoong there, working on one of the machines, a thin sheen of sweat coating his bare arms and calves. He was wearing a hat, black tank and black gym shorts with an airpod in as he was chatting with someone. He didn’t notice you at first, but when you got close enough to hear his conversation, you frowned at how quick he hung up when he did notice you.
“I’ll call you back later.” The weights dropped as he let go of the handles to turn the call off, shifting to look up at you with a bright and charming smile despite your deepening frown. “Firecracker, lovely to see you here.”
“Cut the bullshit” you weren’t having it today. Had the three weeks away changed something? Had your observations just been wishful thinking? Why was he hiding things from you?
They still didn’t trust you fully did they?
Ah, that hurt.
Hongjoong seemed to catch on by your tone and stance, the smile softening to something more genuinely welcoming. “It was San, he was giving me an update on the Vipers I-”
“Am I not allowed to hear what you had to say?” You cut him off, still staring him down. You shouldn’t be getting so worked up, you really shouldn’t.
But Hongjoong seemed good at reading you, reaching out and holding his hand palm up. “Would it ease your mind to know what is going on? What he was telling me? Or can I ask you to trust me on this, and you can learn all about it later?”
You stared at his hand for a moment, eyes running up his arm to the tattoos that covered his bicep. Briefly you glanced at the ink before meeting his eyes.
“It’s a delicate matter?” You decided to ask, arms uncrossing to rest at your sides.
“Yes. The war they have going on is turning into a bloodbath.” He didn’t elaborate, just smiled wider when you did take his hand finally. Gently he pulled you closer.
Relaxing a bit further, you let him. He didn’t need to explain, because you realized what he meant. The Vipers were losing everything, and the Wolves would take what they could from them. Killing, maiming, or selling off each member or even associate. “I see… what are we doing about it?”
He lifted a brow at your choice of words, pulling you right between his knees and holding both of your hands. You don’t know why he insisted on this sort of touch, but you didn’t mind one bit. “Nothing we can do. We can’t pull San out safely, but there isn’t a way we can stop the Wolves either. Not without risking more. Did you come here to blow off some steam? Worried about him?”
Slowly you nodded, staring at your joined hands. “I don’t want to punch anything, just not think. The Boas don’t care much for either, but I hear how ruthless the Wolves are. They’re scared of them much more than the Vipers and-” Your words were cut off as he pulled you onto his lap. “Captain?”
“How do you think San can get out of this unscathed? I’m worried too, Firecracker, and even if we can’t do much, it’s better to have some hope that something can happen to save him. Right?”
He was comforting you, wasn’t he? The notion had your cheeks warming, mind shifting to the question. With everything you knew, what needed to happen for San to be truly safe from the Wolves?
“I… well the Vipers are no match for the Wolves alone but if they had help… then San’s chances of- well you know. The Guardians are the only ones who can stop the Wolves, but I don’t see how they would get involved. Not unless this war causes significantly more damage, or they believe it will.” Your original thought was the Guardians getting rid of the Wolves anyways. After all, the more you learned about them, the more you realized that the biggest, scariest monster out there was the Wolves. The Vipers would be easier to take down, same with the Goblins. The Golden Circle could just be bought out, most of them just greedy cowards. And the Guardians and Pirates? They cared more for regulation to an extent than chaos.
The Wolves enjoy being cruel for cruelty’s sake. Sadists, killers, men who wanted to see the world burn and wanted to be the hands responsible for it. People were toys to them. Ones they wanted to break and use any way they saw fit.
You’d rather see San with his busted lip and black eye from a fight in the ring rather than the possible torture the Wolves would put him through. “The Wolves won’t stop until every last Viper is dead or turned to them or sold. I’d rather the Vipers win, and that can't happen without the Guardians. Either working together or the Guardians step in to apply pressure to the Wolves to back them off.”
Hongjoong’s sudden bright smile threw you off and you were on your feet in a second. “What?”
He chuckled, just to pull you back down with enough force you tumbled into him, hands on his chest and lips suddenly on his. He swallowed up your squeak, pulling you fully onto his lap as his tongue sought yours.
You hadn’t expected it, but he tasted so good that you didn’t want to pull away. Yet as soon as melted into him, he was separating your mouths. “You really are a genius, I think. That’s something we never thought of.”
You blushed at his compliment, staring up at him as his fingers carded through your hair. “What ideas did you have?”
“Ones that involved what the Vipers alone could do, or we as detectives. Sometimes we forget to take a step back and see all this from a different angle.”
“I see… but can we really do anything like that?”
He shrugged. “We could have Wooyoung or San suggest it. If the Vipers are smart, and want to survive, they’ll latch onto that idea hopefully before it’s too late.”
Pride swelled through you, as well as respect. Hongjoong did respect you, to go from easing your worries, to turning your thoughts into something productive, and then backing your idea as an equal. All while he was kissing you, touching you, melting you in his arms like you were his lover.
“Captain-”
“Please call me Hongjoong, or something like that outside the office. Especially when you’re in my arms like this.” He stopped you, arm tightening on your waist while his other hand massaged your scalp a bit. He chuckled at the pleased sound you made at the touch.
“H-Hongjoong… did Seonghwa- ah Hwa- tell you about…” You trailed off, eyelids getting heavy the more you relaxed in his embrace.
He nodded.
“S-so you know how much this means to me?”
“I do, Firecracker. And he told you how things work, and his unofficial invitation?” When you nodded, his hand tightened in your hair enough to pull an unexpected moan from your lips. “I’m going to take how pliant you are in my arms as an acceptance of that if you keep this up. Wooyoung might be the most vocal about his desire for you, but I feel it just as intensely.”
Your hands gripped his tank tightly, lips parted as you enjoyed the way he was getting a bit rough with your hair. Massage, then tug. Smooth then tug harder. “Then why pull me onto your lap?”
“To treasure you, though I didn’t think you would let me.” He admitted, shifting you on his thighs a bit until you could feel his hard on against the side of your thigh. “Yeosang is going to get another show at this rate.”
Laughing under your breath softly, you shifted on his lap. “Good. I’m not too happy about him telling you all about San and Chan. He likes to watch and then run his mouth to you all? I should show him what he’s going to miss because he’s always hiding behind those screens.”
Detaching yourself from Hongjoong, you stood back up between his legs, wrapping your arms loosely around his shoulders to card your fingers through his hair at the base of his neck, just under the cap. Latching your lips onto his to keep him from questioning you, your mind wandered to Yeosang and the expressions he made when he had been watching you and Wooyoung.
Would he make those now? Better yet… What expressions would Hongjoong make?
With your lips still attached, brushing over his soft ones, letting him chase yours with each stroke, your hands ran down his chest. His shirt stuck to him with damp sweat, muscles tensing under your fingertips: first over his pecs, which had a nice curve to them, and then over his stomach. The lower they got, the more desperate his lips on yours.
The sound he made, the breathy whine as you cupped his sizable bulge in his shorts, turned you on even more. So eager to see just how far you could push him.
In a way, this was your first time initiating with them. As you slipped down onto your knees, palming at his hardening cock through the material of his shorts, you acknowledged the fact he hadn’t asked for this, or done much to make you want him: you just wanted him, and wanted to do this.
Wooyoung had begged and begged. And Mingi had wanted to prove to you how much he wanted you. You just let them have the opportunity, reaping the ecstasy they gave you. And as much as you loved taking what they had to offer, you wanted to give back as well. In particular to the man before you. The man who was trying so hard not to pull your hair too much. Who was gripping the seat beneath him as his hips rolled up into your hands, pretty lips parted and swallowed from your kisses.
If Hongjoong had turned you away, or tried to block you at every turn like you had expected him to do before meeting him, you wouldn’t have this growing warmth in your heart at every thought of them. The swell of pride at your ongoing work. You wouldn’t have a confidant in San and Seonghwa. Wouldn’t have the eager lovers Wooyoung and Mingi. The witty banter of Yunho and Yeosang.
And perhaps, pressing your lips to where you could feel his tip twitching beneath the material, you wanted to convince them that they had to have you, just as you had to have them.
Selfish, greedy, maybe a little manipulative: that’s what you thought of yourself as you pulled his shorts down enough to expose his cock, staring up at him with a question in your eyes.
Maybe you were all those things, but it was worth it as he tightened his hold on your strands significantly and pulled you against his cock, smearing the bit of precum and sweat on your lips and cheek, pleading with you. “Take what you want, gorgeous, I’m yours to use.”
How could you deny him- deny yourself- when he looked so delectable like this?
Taking the invitation for what it was, your tongue ran up his length as your hands worked his pants down further. His words rang in your head, the adoration mixed with lust in his expression adding to the pit of emotions coursing through you.
With your lips wrapping around his tip, eyes focused on his expression, you marveled at the warm metal now clicking against your teeth. Quickly you pulled away and glanced down, breath hitching at the metal bar on the underside of his tip, right through the soft flesh in between the twi curves of his hood. “Oh fuck-” Mingi and him? Different places but you could remember how the piercing felt… if you took Hongjoong inside, you’d feel the metal scraping against your walls and the thought had you dripping in your underwear.
Wanting him to want that just as much, you took him back in your mouth, humming as you quickly took as much of him as you could. His eyes rolled back momentarily, breath hitching and fingers curling in your hair. He could fuck your mouth right now and you’d let him.
You’d let him do a lot of things if he continued to let out sweet whines like the one that just fell from his pretty lips. He wasn’t small, but definitely not Mingi’s size. But Hongjoong never needed size to get his point across, or for you to notice him- there was much more about him and the man utilized that to command a room and gain a grip on anyone he wished.
Right now you were the one in his grip, both figuratively and literally, as you pushed his shorts down and spread his thighs wider. Shuffling a bit closer, you took more of him in, humming around his cock once more as it hit the back of your throat, nose so close to his pelvis, but you managed. The sweat didn’t bother you, neither did the feel of the hard floor under your knees, not when he seemed to be unraveling at your touch.
You were enjoying him so much you swore you could suck him off for hours without a reprieve. So what if your throat was sore? If you were tasting his cum and sweat for hours after with every drink and food you devoured? Pressing your tongue up as you pulled off his length, sure to add even more pressure to the piercing and was rewarded with a whiny moan as his body reacted: hips bucking and hand tightening in your hair to hold you still.
Oh so it made him sensitive?
Bobbing your head back down, taking as much of his length as you felt comfortable with, you focused more attention on his tip. Every time you pulled away you added pressure, letting your teeth scrape against it or twisting your head just enough as you pushed back down.
Hongjoong was noisy, between high pitched pants, to low curses under his breath, his fingers in your hair a give away to what he liked best. You used that to your advantage, nails digging into the inside of his thighs when you realized he liked that.
“Ah- fuck- gorgeous- Gunna make me- mmm fuck fuck~” His head kept rolling back but he would push forward to watch you as much as he could, mouth hanging open, teeth clenching in little hisses of pleasure. You hummed and moaned around his cock, picking up pace and pressure as your own need was clouding your thoughts. Have him cum first then maybe you could convince him to fuck you in the showers.
Your nails dug into his thighs more when he started pushing you, just slightly as if guiding, down on his cock. His head rolled back again, moans gaining volume as your name and praise joined the sweet sounds.
In awe of him you nearly choked when his thick cum hit the back of your throat in spurts. You pushed away a bit, lips still latched onto his twitching tip as he emptied his pretty balls on your tongue.
He lifted his head once he was spent, panting heavily and meeting your gaze. He slipped out of your mouth with a loud pop, your tongue lolling out to show the bit of cum still pooled there before you made a show of swallowing it.
“Fuck, Firecracker… I didn’t expect you to do this.” He smoothed out your hair, your scalp a little sensitive from how hard his grip had been.
Smiling, you rested your head on the inside of his knee, smoothing over the crescent marks you had made with your nails and admiring the piercing on his softening cock. “I wanted to. Wanted to show I want you too. I know I wasn’t as… vocal about it. Maybe with work but not in this way.” You tilted your head to look up at him, licking your lips and still tasting him on them. “If you have time… would the showers be private enough? I think Yeosang got enough of a show.”
He chuckled, pushing the hair out of your face before gently tapping your cheek. “I should. Stand up for me?”
Once you did you watched as he pulled up his underwear and shorts. Now you had a moment to admire the work on his arm, you liked learning about them and most people got tattoos that represented a part of them. Plus, tattoos were big in the underworld, often a way to show your rank or who you belonged to.
You noted a few portraits, black rimmed hats and masks, the eyes sharp. There were eight, you counted, surrounded by waves with… with a pirate boat detailed on the upper part of his arm.
He called your name, moving just as you took note of a few letters on his arm. Sex was no longer on your mind, your brow furrowed as your mouth fell open to speak the first question that formed instead.
But the words were overshadowed by an alarm ringing through the gym and Hongjoong cursing. “Fuck- there’s an emergency.” He quickly pecked your cheek. “Head back to your apartment and wait for a call? I’ll let you know when everything’s okay.” He started grabbing his other things, but you were in shock.
The alarm turned off once he was gone but you were still rooted in place.
From the letters you had been able to make out, two of them had been “B” and “P”, just like Mingi had.
Were they part of the Black Pirates? Were they… the enemy?
Taglist (Capped): @mingsolo | @wowie-hockey | @crispybaguettes | @tiny-apocalypse
| @philijack | @lelaleleb | @isiloiale | @vannabanana1995 | @piratequeen-queenofgames
| @starstruckforyou | @minheeskitten | @amphiroxx | @cloudysannie | @sugarnspice630
| @sanhwalvr | @plutoneu | @sousydive | @fatalt | @iwishiwasrichasfuck
| @bitchwhytho | @st4rhwa | @thesafecafe | @alextheweeb7 | @ddaeing
Taglist will be continued in a reblog!!
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Modern!Reader x Alastor Headcanons | Third Place Giveaway Winner
This is very funny to me. Alastor dating or befriending someone who's more similar to Vox to say the least than him when it comes to...technological advancements
CW: none, just some bickering between what could be seen as an old married couple
It's a little hard for almost everyone to tell, but you and Alastor are close
I say it's hard to tell because you two are constantly throwing jabs at each other and honestly, it couldn't be helped
He was just so...old
Everything about his habits and interests were outdated and Alastor wasn't the type to do his own thing quietly
There's always a comment, a sideways glance, a light scoff which leads to,
"Don't be upset because you don't know how to use a cellphone."
"Me? Upset over such a device? You confuse me with someone else, dear."
"I don't think I am. What'd you have again? Messenger birds?"
"Very funny."
You would simply chuckle at Alastor for the most part. You've heard it all before, your love and talent did lead to you VoxTech for a bit of your afterlife, but you didn't stay.
You found it more enjoy using what you know to help Charlie with her cause.
You were a helpful person in your own way. It was the only reason you kept trying to introduce Alastor to some form of modern tech.
"I can make you the simplest most basic cellphone Hell has ever seen. Only phone calls and texting--"
"You lost me."
"--Only phone calls and we'll get to the rest eventually?"
"No."
You'd groan out, "even Lucifer has a cellphone! He's older than you!"
"Was that supposed to help you convince me?"
"...You're such a loser."
You have special nicknames for Alastor when you feel like picking with him.
Old Allie
Old Man Red
Ye Old Alastor
Arthritis Strawberry
Alastor: Great Gatsby Edition
He hates all of them, of course, and that's why you love them
Alastor is completely uninterested in what you do. His focus is just more on your talent and passion than what you're making
You argue that what you're making is your passion so he should show a little interest
This would lead to a breakthrough!
"Only for phone calls."
"Right."
"Don't add anything else."
"Mhm."
"______. I mean it."
"Don't go using that scary tone with me, mister. I'm your friend, so trust me!"
It took all your willpower to not add anything extreme to the, in your opinion, useless cellphone. Phone calls only, just as promised. You knew Alastor agreed to shut you up, but you were still satisfied with your win
That's why you were very surprised when you got a call from him and you knew he wasn't in the hotel. You of course told everyone who would listen (AKA everyone in the hotel)
You yourself were always on the move and it made you happy that the chance to hear Alastor while you were both away was significantly higher (he lowkey hates the thing, so he doesn't always answer)
After a while, like a lot of elderly, Alastor would just straight up not take the phone with him.
"Al."
"Yes, my dear?"
"The point of a cellphone. You get it, yeah?"
A roll of the eyes
"Al."
"I still use the thing."
"You leave it in the hotel!"
"I forget it here and there."
"You can't tell me you're not someone's fuckin' grandfather with that lame excuse. At this rate, I'm gonna glue the phone to you."
Honestly, he kept it on him for almost two months. You expected to be having this conversation sooner.
After nagging him for a few days, Alastor made sure not to "forget" the cellphone anymore, much to his annoyance. He, of course, couldn't be seen with the thing, so it was just easier to leave it at the hotel
Two more weeks in, and Alastor would definitely be thinking of ways for this device to get in an unfortunate accident, if you will
While fiddling with the damned thing one night, Alastor finally found the one extra feature you decided to add. After a small click sounded, the small phone extended in his hands, making him let it go. The small screen was now larger; touchscreen.
Alastor's eye twitched. He could almost hear you cackling.
He was going to end you.
@theblueslytherin Here as promised! I really hope you like it!
Alastor Taglist: @alastorssimp @saints-wrapped-in-plastic @dasimp777
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Have i said this already
I cant remember 💃
What if nightmares spouse was still alive, or like...became alive AGAIN when nightmare has killer
Like, killer can see nightmare being affectionate with his spouse and vice versa
Basicallg what im saying is what if killer used that as an example of how to show affection and did it with color
Imagining killer just cooking a human heart for color and giving it to him, or like... purring loudly whenever color is near because he could always faintly hear nightmare purring when his spouse is near
And gifting the limbs of someone who bothered color, because nightmares spouse would frequently kill and make little artworks of the bones of someone who bothered nightmare
Hell, maybe even try to make a little artwork too. Or like carve something out of the bone that he likes, like a lil cat
Bone cat
That idea is both hilarious, terrifying, and cute. I mean, he already keeps entire jars of souls for study and presumably scoops up blood and monster dust also for study.
Realizing that some of what he’s already doing can be used as affection would be a prime light bulb moment lmao.
Like, he spends hours of his days making color the perfect jar—carefully placing the souls, blood and dust of Color’s enemies (or at least who killer thinks are color’s enemies) into a jar and decorating it all pretty with glitter and ribbons and of course placing little upside down heart stickers on the jar (don’t ask him why it was instinct) and its beautiful and killer is sure color would love it because the boss and the boss’ lover love it.
And like the jar is probably heart shaped and looks something like this
So from Color’s perspective, Killer walking up to him with the jar is the equivalent of something like this
Until Color actually gets a good look at it and then just stares, and killers like “do you like it? 🙂” and he’s all squeezing his hands together in front of his chest like this
{art by rahafwabas, edited by me.}
And then Color has to ask why he gave him this—souls and hearts and blood and dust specifically—and then killer explains about nightmare and then color’s like..”yeah, okay. That makes sense. Of course they’d do that.”
And then Color has to explain that Nightmare and his lover are not exactly the picture of a typical relationship nor what’s considered appropriate to give others, and if killer gave this to anyone else they’d probably be creeped out by it. (Which killer of course keeps in mind, because he loves creeping people out lmao.)
But then Killer’s like..
“..so do you not want it?”
Now here im not sure how exactly color would react—his souls would probably have a lot to say on this. The fact that Killer hurt and killed people for this gift, that Color has to set an example and maintain his integrity— but also how killer very obviously put a lot of thought and hard work into this gift for them and it’d be rude to throw it away.
And yet another part of color is mindful of the fact that this could very well be another of killer’s little morality and boundary tests—trying to test what color is going to do, chose kindness and not hurting killers “feelings” or maintaining his integrity.
And i think maybe a good compromise would be color giving the jar back with a kind, patient smile, and requesting that he hold the jar for him—keep it safe for him. And instead, he’d like to show him something he likes to make as gifts. (And therefore likes to receive as gifts.) and then maybe color makes use of the jar stuff to make like, some of those sand container jewelry like these:
Or perhaps Color further compromises by making one of those blood vial necklaces, appeals to killers idea of a gift with something more consenting and harm free because its vials of killer and colors blood freely given.
Something like this, but imagine Killer’s blood is something more thick and dark like Determination, while Color’s blood is like a darker version of his flames; changing colors and glowing softly in the jar.
{ @brokenramunebottle }
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i think as viewers we find it easy to sit back and judge each character until their motivations are explained to us in detail like with purple and king and chosen. even with victim its fairly easy to guess a portion of why she is doing this. and that's partially because avam is just made to be like that so all audiences can understand it and why the characters do what they do, and also partially because it's a little difficult to do more subtle storytelling when you can only express character feelings through their body language (and the body language has to be fairly exaggerated so that everyone can understand how the character is feeling).
so then as a result when we see green falling deep into the hole of social media it's easy to scoff and judge and say come on green, do better. we see it as him just getting too cocky again- look at green with his ego and his need to seem cool, he's sucking up to people again so he can get validation. and people understand that, they're even comparing his arc to purple, but they're forgetting to actually see things from his point of view.
like yeah. green was mean to yellow! and that was a kind of assholey thing to do, agreeing with people when they say yellow didn't do much. but like people do stupid shit all the time, especially to get approval. green hearting mean comments wasn't him on his villain arc, he probably barely thought about it. haven't you ever done anything without thinking or made a joke in bad taste. honestly it's a little ironic how quick people were to jump on him when he did something kind of mean, it reminded me of actual cancel culture! fascinating shit. we really are a part of the story.
anyways green started off as the weakest. he tries his best to be good at other things, first building, then music, but for some reason whenever he does well in something his friends get jealous or upset. (he pours himself into that thing and unintentionally ignore s or snaps at his friends--- its a repeating pattern at this point). it's mostly because their competitive spirit, something which is seen in a lighthearted manner but has gotten them killed or hurt on multiple occasions and i feel like they're going to have to address that at some point. whenever green sets boundaries, they're ignored, even if cg think they're just acting in the greater good.
hell, even purple, we've barely seen them interact after s3- who's to say purple wouldn't just scoff at him as well? she's already not very experienced with actual friendships (based on the way they just expected green to brush the betrayal off in parkour, they acted more like it was a small disagreement than a full on issue), so he may just assume this is how friends are.
basically the point of this is to say, no one ever celebrates his success. obviously he's competitive with his friends too, but having been at the bottom of the group from the start, he's visibly very insecure about this stuff, and having people attempt to kick him down during every success he gets (which he works very hard for) will lead to him needing validation from elsewhere. clearly, social media is supposed to give him this.
but like someone in the community pointed out, now he's appealing to hundreds of thousands of people instead of just 5 or 6. the praise is awesome, but seeing that people still have criticism of him just makes him throw himself into his work even more. it also probably functions as a form of escapism for him; he's so busy working, editing, writing, he barely even notices that his friends are avoiding him. it's possible he's purposely using youtube as a way to ignore his gut. anyways, blue's still willing to hang out and record with him, so what's the issue? (it's not as if blue is the least confrontational of the cg lol)
i have. been in this exact position. the moment you make anything, you're looking straight at the numbers. it becomes what you think of in the morning and during the creation process. you're skimming comments for keywords--- good, bad, more, less, etc. you listen even when you don't mean to. yeah maybe the guy was a little mean about one of my friends but ultimately it's just constructive criticism! it's not like she'll see this anyway. it's fine.
and yeah green needs to stop being so obsessive but i think he deserves to break down first. like what ash said--- he expresses his negative emotions the least out of everyone, he barely takes breaks, it's going to come crashing down. and i think when cg confront him about his behaviour he deserves to yell at them for the way he gets treated. it really hurts when all you are is the butt of the joke even when they mean it in a lighthearted way. if the arc just ends with green being knocked down a peg as usual, i will be very fucking upset because he's literally already at the bottom of the ladder, what more do you want?
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The boy stops in his tracks. “I know you,” he says, tilting his head curiously. He’s not tall, but he’s regal nonetheless, dressed all in white. Something about him makes Leia’s hair stand on end, and although she hides it she feels a stirring in her own chest. I know you like I know my own soul, she thinks wildly, and wonders where it came from. Has she gone insane?
“That’s nice,” she says, and shoots him anyway.
He deflects it in a flash of light, a glowing blue laser sword appearing in his hand like magic. She’s only seen one of those before, and it’s Vader’s. If this boy is anything like Vader, she realizes, she’s in deep shit.
She’s smart enough to know when she’s outmatched. Leia makes the tactical decision to run for her life.
Later, as she’s getting the hell out of there, she wonders why he didn’t try to stop her.
She remembers being young and tugging on her mothers skirts, demanding to know why their guest was so sad. “Does he not like it here?” She’d asked, and then, trembling, because Kenobi always seemed saddest around her. “Is it…because of me?”
“Oh, Leia,” her mother sighed, lifting her into her arms. “It’s not that, I promise.”
“Then what is it?”
“Master Kenobi lost a child under his care, years ago.” Breha’s eyes grew deeper, darker. “It was not his fault, but he blames himself. You remind him of that child, that’s all.”
Leia had quieted at that, contemplative.
The next time she’d seen Master Kenobi, she had given him a hug. He didn’t seem to know what to do with that, so she resolved to give him more of them. “He’s lonely,” she’d told her mother. “No one should be lonely.”
Looking at Obi-Wan Kenobi now, the memory seemed so far away. He’d aged thirty years in the ten it had been.
He looks, Leia thinks with a small twinge of regret, very lonely.
“Leia,” he greets. “It’s been a long time.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Leia sees a glint of white.
Kenobi freezes in his tracks. “Luke?” He whispers, and through the distance Leia can hear it as if he’d been speaking directly into her ear.
Master Kenobi lost a child under his care, her mother whispers in her head. He blames himself.
In an instant, Leia understands everything.
Kenobi is still staring at the boy he’d lost so long ago when Vader cuts him down.
Later, as she’s pacing around on the Falcon to Han muttering darkly about Princesses and supernatural abilities, she rememberers the way the boy collapsed, as if all his strings had been cut. Vader was too occupied with him to even look at her as she shot at him desperately.
Luke. She hates him more than she hates herself.
“They know where you are,” he hisses frantically. “They’re coming for you. You have to run.”
“Wait!” Leia quickly pulls up their sonar. Nothing yet, but it would explain the distant queasiness she’d felt since they’d landed. She tended to trust her gut. “How do you know? How much time do we have?”
“Not important, and not enough,” he says. “I have to go, and so do you. You need to leave yesterday.”
“How do I know I can trust you? I don’t even know who you are.”
He pauses. “Call me Skywalker.”
“That’s not an answer, Skywalker.”
“Yes it is.”
She opens her mouth to argue, but there are faint voices on the other end, drawing nearer.
“Shit,” Skywalker mutters. “I have to go. I’ll be in contact, okay? Don’t ever tell me where you are, or where you’re heading. Vader and Palpatine aren’t shy about reading minds. Just leave as soon as you can, and figure out the rest.”
“But—“
It’s too late. The comm has disconnected.
She stares down at it, disbelieving. How would the Empire know they’re here? Why should she trust a stranger who somehow got her personal comm code?
Gut feeling or not, on paper this was a perfect location. Supplied, armored, and most importantly, extremely well hidden. There was no real reason to think it would possibly be found out.
It’s probably a trap. Almost definitely a trap.
Han sticks his head in the door, a sour look on his face. “Hey Princess, can you tell these idiots—“
She makes a decision then and there.
“We’re leaving.”
“What?”
“We’re evacuating, effective immediately.” She pushes past him, and he follows so close he’s nearly stepping on her heel.
“Why? I think it’s pretty cozy here. Actual sunlight doesn’t hurt, either.”
“Apparently too cozy.” She grabs the first person she sees, a pilot who stares at her with wide eyes. “Emergency evacuation. Spread the word to pack everything you can and leave, I’ll let you know where we’re headed when we’re in orbit.”
He salutes and scurries off.
“Woah, hey now.” Han snatches at her elbow until she turns around to face him. “What’s going on?”
“There’s a new informant. He told me the Empire knows we’re here. They’re coming for us.”
“And you trust this person because…”
“I don’t have a choice,” she snaps. Someone runs past them, holding three packs filled to the brim with rations. “It’s either he’s lying and we’re not in danger, or he’s telling the truth and we’re going to die if we don’t listen. It’s not exactly hard math.”
It could be a trap of course, but he hadn’t suggested any sort of direction or destination to follow, and Leia wasn’t inclined to share. Especially not after his tidbit about Vader and Palpatine reading minds.
He squints at her. “That’s not it.”
“What?”
“I don’t believe you,” he insists. He’s so infuriating. Leia doesn’t know why she hasn’t kicked him out yet.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes you do, and you’re either gonna tell me why, or find a different transport when we head out of here.”
“Who said I was riding on your hunk of junk?” She demands. She actually was planning on going with them, since the Falcon has more than enough room for all the supplies that can’t fit in the other ships and none of the trustworthiness of the other pilots, but Han doesn’t need to know that.
“Well?”
Damn him. Damn him for knowing how to read her. She doesn’t know when she let that happen.
“I feel it,” she admits, defeated. “Something tells me he’s trustworthy. We’ll wait and see if it’s right.”
He studies her. She holds her head high, but inside she’s jittery at the scrutiny. They don’t have time for this.
“Yeah, all right,” Han finally says.
“Really?”
“Yes, really.” He rolls his eyes, like she’s not acting absolutely insane by putting all her trust in a random man she’s never even met. “Now come on, Princess, weren’t you the one who said we had to hurry?”
What is it about this man that makes it impossible to tell whether she wants to punch him or drag him into the nearest supply closet? They don’t have time to find out.
“So there’s good news and bad news.”
“Bad news first,” she demands.
“They know there’s a mole.”
“Shit.” Of course they know, how could they not? She should have been more careful, less obvious about the correlation of their movements with the Empire’s plans. “The good news?”
“They’ve tasked me with hunting down this ‘pathetic rebel spy,’” Skywalker says, humor in his voice. “That should buy me some time.”
Leia can’t quite stop the snort she lets out. “Seriously?”
“Yep. You’re speaking to a professional mole-hunter, here.”
“Well congratulations on the promotion, Skywalker.”
“Thank you,” he says grandly. Then, quieter, “It won’t last, Princess. They’ll find out eventually.”
“I know. Just hang in there, it will be over soon.”
“Will it?” He asks, suddenly sounding very young. She realizes that she has no idea how old he is. She doesn’t know anything about the man who has saved them more times than she cared to admit, and the idea rattles her until they sign off.
Later, she looks up the name Skywalker in their archives. There are a few results, but only one sticks out.
Anakin Skywalker, Jedi Knight and hero of the Clone Wars. Killed at the hands of Darth Vader. There are gossip articles too, speculations on his relationship with the pregnant Senator Padmé Amidala, who died around the same time Skywalker did. The baby, it seems, died with her.
Unless he didn’t.
It’s ridiculous. It’s impossible. The idea is so ludicrous that Leia almost rejects it entirely.
But it makes sense. By the Maker, it makes sense.
The child of Anakin Skywalker, it seems, would be a powerful Force user indeed. Powerful enough for Kenobi to take the baby and run. Powerful enough for the Emperor to want him for his own gain. Powerful enough to send Vader after Kenobi and take the boy himself.
Maybe even powerful enough to shield his mind from Vader and Palpatine’s intrusions.
Powerful enough to hide the fact that he’s a spy.
Leia sinks into her chair, covering her face as she laughs.
Maybe Luke isn’t so bad after all.
“No, no, no,” she mutters, digging through the smoking wreckage of the TIE fighter. “Don’t be dead, please don’t be dead.”
“Princess…” Han lays a hand on her shoulder that she immediately shrugs off.
“No, he’s not dead. He’s not. Luke!”
A faint cough answers her, and she’s so relieved to hear it she could cry. Behind her, Han starts bellowing for a medic and, “Some damn help here, do you expect us to move all this ourselves?”
“Luke, it’s me,” she sobs. “It’s Leia. You’re at the Rebel Base. You’re safe.”
More coughing, and there’s a worrying rasp to his voice when he says, “You know…my name?”
“I figured it out.”
“Smart.” This time, the coughing is so bad Leia and Han both wince.
“Shit, kid,” Han says, moving another piece of rubble. “Don’t talk. We’re gonna get you out of here, all right?”
“Stand back,” Luke chokes out.
“What?”
“Stand back. Please.”
Han protests, but something in Leia knows they should listen to him. She drags him back, and motions everyone else to fall back with them. They do, albeit reluctantly.
“Clear,” she calls, hoping Luke can hear her.
The TIE explodes.
“Fuck!” Han goes back in, Leia on his heels with the terrifying feeling that she’d just allowed Luke to die, before they both stop in their tracks. Around them, the broken pieces of the TIE are floating.
And curled up in the middle is a man dressed all in white.
“Luke!” She pushes past Han to start dragging him out, and after another moment of staring around them, he helps her.
As soon as they get clear, the pieces fall to the ground with a clatter. Luke falls limp with them.
Han is still looking at the TIE. “Can you do that?” He asks quietly.
Leia pauses her examination of the unconscious man in front of her to glare at him. “Is that what you’re most concerned with right now? Really?”
“Excuse me for asking, Princess!”
“It’s white,” Luke grumbles, pulling at his hospital gown bitterly. “I hate wearing white.”
“Should I be offended?”
He rolls his eyes. “Don’t even. You look great and you know it. I just feel like I never left.”
“Well,” she says gingerly. “I guess it’s a good thing you got sick of it. If we went around in matching outfits all the time, people might think we’re twins.”
He snorts. “Yeah, right.”
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official finish-this-sketch-how-you-want post idk what to call thisSAMPLE TEXT
hi! I miss drawing with people in a café and some folks mentioned they'd like to mess with my sketches themselves and that sounds cool so this is now a thing. if u play gartic phone this is basically the complement mode! but without the fucking ring noise that freaks you out right when you're getting into the flow of it
few things are 1/there's no hard deadline! take this at ur own pace if u do, but 2/I'll also be finishing this sketch and I estimate it to take around uhh 3 to 4 days? from the time this is posted. so if that's a structure u like then let's aim for something done in that timespan as well! and 3/if u finish ur piece and post it and want me to see it the best way to do that is to @ this blog! above all we go into this one determined to have fun and enjoy. I already bought u a matcha latte with oat milk sorry if u don't want that
here I got u today a sketch that's supposed to be Riz Gukgak (SY) (grey bg version and transparent version for ur ease of peruse)
remember to have fun & be urself & finish ur drink & see u in 4 or 5
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Not to be rude, but I just read your bio, and did you not draw Chasriel nsfw? I checked and it seems as though you've gotten it taken off of e621 in the last few months, which is good, but I'm a little curious if you're hypocritical now and just trying to hide it, or you've stopped drawing such things entirely.
WTFFF BRUHHH I HAVE NEVER MADE NSFW IN MY LIFE!!! BUT ALSO CHASRIEL IS FUCKING GROSS!!!!! EWWW THOSE ARE SIBLINGS AND ALSO KIDS,,,,, WITH WHO TF ARE YOU CONFUSING ME WITH TOO???HUHH??? AND WHAT THE FUCK EVEN IS e621????
ALSO WHY ARE YOU CALLED LIKE THAT, IM NOT TURNING EVER ANON BACK ON IF IM GOING TO GET THINGS LIKE THIS LMAO
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the scene in evil dead 2 where ash gets his chainsaw arm is a metaphor for bottom surgery. i will not elaborate
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I keep thinking of how I want to taxonomize Siffrin and Loop bc it feels significant to me that Loop and Siffrin both have inherently diverged from the same Traveler Mold they came from. But because I am like a 7 year old I keep sagely nodding to myself going "ah yes... just like mega mewtwo"
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Chika SSR #1197 and SR #2242 [Transparent, Edited/Extended]
※ Credit is appreciated but not required.
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there’s just smth to be said abt being so scared of being left alive but incapacitated in a way that reminds you of the single most traumatic incident of your life so far that the only way out you clearly see in the moment is to disregard all pretenses of morals and try to forcibly control the person attacking you to brutally murder you for no other reason than needing to not end up in their clutches again 🤷🏼♀️ the girlies that get it get it !!
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Our mental health has been in such an interestingly terrible place for the last month or so. Genuinely kind of fascinating to watch from different internal angles....like watching the ocean ebb and flow and change temperament at random sometimes based on weather or the moon or something. Like this shit is just terrible
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The dichotomy between what's popular according to booktok (from what I've see) from the most blandest books imaginable to the most taboo erotica you can think of is kinda wild.
I think that what gets me with taboo books recommended by BookTok is that they're usually very poorly written. And if the writing is poor, you're not really getting the full "shock" value.
Like, when you read Sierra Simone's Thornchapel series, the scenes read as really intense because Sierra is an excellent writer. In contrast, a book like Hooked (that one dark romance~ modern Captain Hook book, a concept I was very open to and wanted to like, for the record) is very badly written. There's taboo content and a horrible hero, but like... It just reads juvenile.
I'm about 65% through A Kiss at Midnight by Anne Stuart, a historical romance that is QUITE dark, but the writing is frankly fabulous. Because Stuart can write, the darkness (which is not like, the corny "oh he's so bad he's in a motorcycle gang" torture sequence stuff--it's TRULY intense and pretty accurate for the era) is balanced out by emotional progression and honestly? A very dry, at times dark humor. If a lesser writer handled this plotline, it would just seem like shock factor after shock factor layered on just to get people talking. Very 2edgy4me.
And I'm gonna be really real here. Some fanfic authors are made to transition to actual published books. I think Ali Hazelwood writes a really solid contemporary romance. I really enjoyed You, Again by Kate Goldbeck, and that's based on a fic I actually read. The Hurricane Wars works as a book. (And mind you, let's not take away from the work the editors and authors did to rework fics into actual books here.)
Some fic authors are meant to stay fic authors and to excel at that. I personally think that one of the reasons why we have so many blaaand romance novels right now is that a) some of them are written by less-equipped fic authors trying to write real books and b) some of the authors have read less actual books than they have fics.
There are some tensely plotted, exciting fics out there. But personally? I think the standout nature of those fics--fics like Manacled, which... I think.... is not.... for me. However, bland it is not lol--makes people think that is the NORM for fic, when it's not. The norm for fic, and what I think a lot of more casual fic consumers and people who read more fic than they do books (compared to a lot of romance readers who turn to fic to supplement their reading habits) is very plotless slice of life stuff.
And that's not meant to be derogatory. It works, especially when you're writing about characters a lot of people know and love and are PROGRAMMED to know and love. Even if it's AU and they're basically other people, if you're writing a modern, sedate romcom about Katniss and Peeta and she mentions going to archery classes and Peeta being a baker, people are like aawwwww and they enjoy the nicely written scenes that are just people being people.
That.... ultimately creates a bland story when you're writing a book about original characters nobody has a preexisting investment in.
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RIP reo speedwagon (the jojo's bizarre adventure character) you would've loved reo speedwagon (the american rock band)
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What up I'm married to a tall person who is basically Milo Thatch but agender, and uhhh, basically, yeah, everyone should be jealous and I LOVE MY CUTE TWINK NERD WIFE!!!!! 😤😤🥰🥰🥰❤❤❤👌👌
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