Tumgik
#yum yum angst
s3wergh0ul · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
Me: :’(
Me after making angst: :’)
536 notes · View notes
aithusarosekiller · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media
I said the husbands were in their Jegulus era and got yelled at so I'm saying it again
140 notes · View notes
peathepirate · 11 months
Text
The urge to discard all my Ace Attorney comic projects to become solely a zelink fancomic artist is strong today.
23 notes · View notes
alilcherry · 5 months
Text
Okay, so, this reveals more than just Macaque’s fate I now realize—
Anyways! If you have any questions, feel free to leave an ask! My ask box is wide open!
10 notes · View notes
eroseas · 1 year
Note
ellabs YESSS ughhhh i need the two of them at the same time right here right now
no they're so fine.... they have no business being that fucking sexy its unbearable. thinking of doing the classic enemies to lovers trope but with such heavy angst its crazy
4 notes · View notes
rendevok · 10 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
“Take my hand” a comic for NaruMitsu Week 2023
day 1 - lies & secrets - 2 - 3 - 4
6K notes · View notes
Text
"Hello." A dull thwack sound reverberated across the rooftop, leaving the boy who snuck up on Red Robin clutching his head. The boy, a meta if the large animal ears and tail were anything to go by, shook off the pain and pouted up at him, "What was that for?!"
The vigilante was unrepentant, holding his bo staff in a ready position, "You snuck up behind a vigilante at night. In Gotham."
"Okay," the meta conceded, still pouting. "You have a point there. Robin threw ninja stars at me when I tried to approach Batman."
That got Tims attention, "You tried to approach Batman? Was there something you needed?"
The kid suddenly got serious, "My mom went missing. I haven't been able to contact her for almost two weeks now."
Red pulled his arm closer to his face before he began typing on his wrist computer, "Can you tell me her name and date of birth?"
"Um." The other teen fidgetted with his tail a bit, "Okay, so...she's kinda Cheetah."
"...come again?"
"She's Cheetah. The...the supervillian."
Red Robin stared at him, and honestly who could blame him? The bats hadn't even known Cheetah had a son. "So why are you in Gotham? Why not ask Wonder Woman for help? Cheetahs one of her rogues not ours."
The teen shook his head, "She went to meet someone in Gotham before she disappeared. She seemed really agitated before she left, almost scared. I've never seen her like that before." He paused, giving the vigilante time to type before continuing, "I didn't go Wonder Woman since I figured I would wind up needing to talk to a bat anyway since its your turf and all." He said, waving a hand as if gesturing to the city around them.
"I wasn't aware Cheetah had a kid."
The meta grimaced, "she didn't until a year ago."
Red gave him a look, as if urging him to go on.
The meta chuffed, sounding a lot like whatever big cat he was supposed to be, "I'll only tell you my tragic backstory if you promise to help me find my mom."
"I'll find your mom." The bird said without an ounce of hesitation. Tim was a little offended. Did this guy think he was going to leave his mom in danger just because she was a criminal? Appearently so, seeing as the teen looked so relieved at his words.
"Okay, so my bio parents were evil mad scientists. Always a bad start, anyway they were obsessed with the occult and one day they suddenly took me and my sister to Brazil to hunt for some artifact of another. That alone was strange but weirder still was the fact my creepy godfather was paying for it all. He usually only does something like that when he's plotting "
"Plotting?" The detective interjected, "you make it sound like he does that often."
"Yeah. Hes a supervillian." The meta said casually, as if he didn't just leave Tim reeling, but the kid wasn't done yet, "He's had a massive crush on my bio mom since collage and never let it go no matter how many times she rejected him. She even married my dad, his best friend, and this dude just kept simping for 20 years." The teen rolled his eyes, "Hes convinced himself that if he murders my bio dad then my bio mom will fall in love with him and me and jazz will be "his"." He said that last part with fingerqoutes and a disgusted expression.
Tim filed that away for later, "Can I have his name, if nothing else?"
The teen seemed reluctant for a moment, "You're the worlds greatest detectives. You'll find out even if i try to hide it. Besides, I'd probably be better off if you and the Justice League know everything anyway."
Tim was...surprised by that. Most people usually weren't this open with them.
"His name is Vlad Masters, he also goes by Plasmius when he's dressed like a wannabe vampire. He's a ghost who's repossessed his corpse. My parents are Jack and Maddie Fenton, who are obsessed with ghosts and have convinced themselves that all ghosts are evil and must be destroyed, regardless of how much evidence points to them being wrong."
"And your name?"
The meta grinned at him, showing off four very sharp fangs, reminiscent of the large cat he takes after, "You can call me Jaguar. We were exploring a bit when I broke off from my family and got jumped by one of them. Suddenly I was struck by a claw and turned into furry bait. Fluffy stopped trying to make me his lunch and just stared at me before walking away, which was wierd. Then my parents found me, accused me of being a ghost, because thats naturally what someone would assume when thier son sprouts cat ears," he said while rolling his eyes.
"Naturally." Red joked, which had the benefit of making Jaguar smile.
"So my parents chased me through the jungle, shooting all the while, then suddenly a portal opened up in front of me. I'm not stupid, I know there was no way this wasn't a trap. I mean, a portal opening up right after that bizarre series of events and its the same shade of glowing green as the wierd death go my parents are obsessed with? There's no way they weren't related somhow, but I was desperate and jumped through anyway."
"I landed in another jungle, or the same one in a different location, I'm not sure. I tried hunting and foraging but wasn't very successful at either." Danny still remembered the throbbed in his head when he had headbutt that tree after missing his pounce on that pig he had been stalking. "Thats when Cheetah found me. She took me in and taught me to hunt and fight."
-----
Possible plot twists:
1. Danny isnt Phantom in this au
2. Danny is Phantom in this au but is trying to leave that life behind
3. My favorite. Danny has the ability to manipulate and control animals into doing his bidding with the effect of jaguars and other big cats being the most prevalent and he just doesn't realize it.
One of Cheetahs friends/allies realizes cheetah has changed and suspected something and convinced her to leave for a while to see if her care for this kid faded after a while away from his presence. It works and Danny loses another parental figure/possibly attacked by them too.
3K notes · View notes
niiconoriez · 2 months
Note
sukuna, nanami (hes so AHHHHH), gojo, geto, choso, ino, n idk who else 🙏
“I flunked my exam” ꒰ঌ ໒꒱
➽ THANK YOU SM FOR 100 FOLLOWERS 🥳🎊
(Lowkey butchered nanami.. I’m sorry 🙁)
➽ Nanami, Gojo, Geto, Sukuna, Choso x gn! reader
➽ slightly suggestive (c.u.m, umm I think that’s it)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
© NIICONORIEZ 2024, DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE
378 notes · View notes
steddielations · 2 years
Text
It’s the stupid Garfield mug that does it.
Eddie tries to hide it because he doesn’t want to seem ungrateful to Steve, but he gets lonely sometimes.
He’s still in hiding, mostly healed up from the bats, staying with Steve while they wait for Hopper to sweep it all under the rug. No one would ever expect Eddie Munson to be at Steve Harrington’s house, it’s the perfect cover.
Not only was Steve surprisingly nice enough to let Eddie stay there, he also took care of him through the worst of it. He didn’t seem to mind having to stay home every night and every weekend, definitely not what Eddie was expecting from the party boy he used to hate from afar.
Now Steve’s the nice guy who spoon-fed Eddie soup and gave him orange juice through a damn straw and even helped him to the bathroom when he could barely move.
He’s too nice and sweet and funny sometimes. He even has a beat up copy of Lord of the Rings from Dustin that he squints at until Eddie gets tired of watching him strain, then let’s Eddie read to him. Eddie knows Steve does it more for him than for himself. Hell, Steve even comes home right after work most days, just to keep Eddie company.
Eddie can’t have many visitors, they don’t want to raise suspicion with too much traffic at Steve’s house, so it’s mostly just him and Steve. Eddie doesn’t mind, he’s halfway in love with him and gets closer to falling head over heels every day. He loves being here with Steve but sometimes… Steve reminds him of Wayne.
Every morning, Steve watches the news. Eddie teased him about it, saying he has the soul of a middle aged Dad. It’s stupid, but watching Steve mosey around the living room before work, drinking coffee and getting absorbed in the TV when an interesting story comes on, it makes Eddie miss Wayne, who does the exact same thing.
It’s so stupid how it’s simple things that make Eddie feel 2 seconds away from breaking. Not having to be quiet during the day because Wayne’s not there sleeping after his night shift. Looking at the wall and not seeing Wayne’s endless collection of hats and mugs. Not hearing the squeak of the old couch when Wayne sits down to take his boots off.
It’s so stupid but it all makes Eddie’s chest feel so tight and empty he can hardly breathe.
But he’s grateful to Steve for letting him be here, so he doesn’t dare complain about what’s missing when Steve’s already given him so much.
One morning, Eddie’s sitting on the counter and Steve gives him his coffee. It’s just how Eddie likes it, sweet and creamy, but he can’t drink it.
Steve used a different mug than usual, and Eddie can’t stop staring at it, orange and round. Wayne has one like it. It reminds Eddie of the Garfield mug that hangs by the door in their trailer. That tight feeling gnaws at his chest, and he sits there staring at it so long his coffee goes cold.
“Everything okay, Eds? Did I not put enough sugar or something? Do you need a straw again today?”
Steve’s voice startles him out of his thoughts, he flinches and the mug slips out of his hand, falling to the kitchen tile, shattered.
Eddie curses while Steve rushes to clean it up, telling him to stay put when he tries to get down and help.
That, too, reminds Eddie of Wayne.
He can’t help it then, he just laughs. It feels tight in his throat, sounds almost painful, but he laughs so hard he feels tears prickling the corner of his eyes.
Steve just stares at him, leaving the broken mug in his concern for Eddie, asking carefully, “Hey, what’s so funny? You alright?”
Eddie shakes his head, laughs dying down. “You know those mugs on the wall at my trailer?”
Steve looks confused, nodding.
“They’re Wayne’s, he collects them. I used to tell him it was lame and he should invest in something cool like hanging guitars or records,” Eddie goes on, grinning, reminiscing, “He’d always just laugh and tell me that cliche line, one man’s trash is another man’s treasure, boy. I never understood you buying all them amps either, paying money to make noise.”
Steve smiles but he’s still watching Eddie carefully.
“Those damn mugs,” Eddie laughs again, rubbing his eyes, “There’s a Garfield one that leaks from how many times I knocked it over running out the door trying not to be late to school, and Wayne had to superglue it back together. He’d never even get mad about it, just snap at me to be careful because he didn’t want me getting hurt.”
Eddie laughs even harder, his chest twisting and writhing but it feels good, like he’s finally letting himself breathe, gasping for air. He doesn’t know when his laughs turn into sobs, but he assumes it’s around the time when Steve steps forward and gently wraps him in a hug.
They’ve never hugged before. Eddie doesn’t know how he could miss something he’s never had but that’s what hugging Steve feels like. He’s missing his Uncle, he’s missing a piece of himself but he feels close to complete somehow right there in Steve’s arms. He holds on tight, smearing tears into Steve’s t-shirt.
“I miss him, Steve,” he sniffs, bottom lip wobbling, “I miss those damn mugs.”
“I know,” Steve rubs his back, soothing, “I promise you'll see him again, Eds. And those damn mugs.”
Eddie laughs wetly and squeezes him tighter.
Within the next week, Steve keeps his promise.
Eddie almost drops to his knees when he sees it, has to rub his eyes to make sure he’s not imagining it, but it’s there.
Right there on the wall in the Harrington living room, there’s three mugs hanging up. Not just any mugs, Eddie recognizes all three. A green one that used to hang next to Wayne’s coat, an Indiana State one that went above the couch, and the cracked up Garfield one that leaks next to the trailer door.
“Steve, what—”
“I tried to get more, but Wayne was already suspicious by my third visit this week,” Steve shrugs innocently, “It’s just like home, right?”
Eddie’s torn between bursting into tears or laughter at the thought of Steve sneaking out of his trailer with coffee mugs in his pocket one by one, “You stole my Uncles mugs, Harrington?”
“I figured he’ll forgive me when I bring his nephew back safe and sound soon,” Steve smiles, charming as ever, “And if he presses charges, well, it’ll be worth it just seeing the look on your face right now.”
Eddie's chest spreads with warmth, his heart so full it could almost burst.
“Get over here, you little thief.”
Steve's grinning as he strolls right over to Eddie and wraps his arms around him. They've hugged a lot since that first time, but they've never kissed before, not even in Eddie's wildest dreams has he kissed Steve Harrington, but it's happening.
Eddie can't describe it, feeling Steve's lips on his, safe in his arms, warm in his embrace, but it feels a little bit like home.
4K notes · View notes
cloudcountry · 1 year
Text
the burdens of royalty
Genre/Tropes: Established relationship, MC and Diavolo are married.
Summary: the weight of both the devildom and the human world are on your shoulders. if it wasn't for diavolo, you would have given up a long time ago.
Author's Comments: diavolo has a very tough job. every time he said he adores mc or that one time he confessed his love to them i panicked because thats so much. its heavier than the brother's "i love you" because hes ROYALTY and its a lot of take in.
i also find myself thinking about what his affection means for mc in the long run. i mean, surely diavolo has suitors. there are obviously higher up demons like the brothers (and maddi, that one witch that pursued diavolo so aggressively it was...icky.) for diavolo to actually pursue mc, i can't imagine what would happen when those same demons figured that out. if they were to make their relationship official or even get married, mc would probably need a bodyguard 24/7 because demons are OBVIOUSLY not chill with humans (like every single brother threatening mc and especially belphegor, although his circumstances were different because they involved lilith.)
anyways i'll be quiet, i hope you enjoy C:
~~~~~
It wasn’t easy being you.
Your now husband would always tell you that being him wasn’t easy, but now that you share the burden of his position, does that not also apply to you?
It came as quite a shock to the entire Devildom the day your engagement was announced—to think, the Prince of the Devildom, marrying a human! The demon aristocracy would have had your head if they weren’t so terrified of Barbatos. You were called many things (a manipulator and a cheat being among your favorites. Really, the higher ups in demon society would know too much about manipulating their way up the social ladder.) It was like they could comprehend that you just wanted to be with the man you loved, and that race and position and titles meant absolutely nothing to do with it.
If nothing else, you suppose being human was the easiest thing they could target. It shielded Diavolo from most of the backlash, at any rate. The last thing you ever wanted was for the public to lose their trust in him (and never give his ideals for the three realms a chance.) The fact that he only wanted the best for them seemed to fly right over their heads, as if Diavolo was just as untrustworthy as you, the foreign soul from another realm.
You, now their ruler, too.
But that’s exactly why you had to clench your teeth and bear it, bear the shimmering dresses and horned guests and Barbatos breathing down your neck so nobody would even think of attacking you. Snide remarks about your clothing of choice were met with “my husband picked it out, actually,” comments about how delicious your flesh smelled were ignored but met with a stern glare from your bodyguard, greetings that sounded so fake and that were obviously meant to butter you up were laughed at just as falsely.
Is this what it meant to be a royal?
“I apologize, My Liege. This ball runs til midnight. I assure you that you may retire to your chambers once this is over.” Barbatos whispers, strategically whisking you away from a group of demonesses muttering to each other and staring at you.
“Thank you.” you try to smile, but it probably seems like more of a wince than anything, “My feet are killing me. And the guests are just as bad.”
He smiles back sympathetically, and although he isn’t touching you at all, you can still feel the warmth emanating from him. Though the Avatars of Sin fear him, Barbatos has always been nothing but kind to you. You wonder if it has something to do with Diavolo, or if he really is that cruel. You suppose it doesn’t matter, whether you’re naive or not, because the fact of the matter is that you have the man Barbatos is loyal to encased in an eternal matrimonial vow. There is no way Barbatos would attempt to harm you.
“I will run you and My Lord a bath once this event is over.” he promises, and you can only sigh with relief when you notice he’s lead you outside, were the amount of people is nowhere near what it is inside, “Do you have a preference for which aromatherapy scent I use?”
“Use whichever one Diavolo chooses.” you reply, knowing he’ll be just as tired.
Barbatos laughs, a sound so full of mirth it makes you happy, too.
“I am sorry if that was out of line, My Liege. I was just amused by the coincidence. My Lord said to select whichever scent you would like.” Barbatos chuckles.
You find yourself laughing too, despite how nasty the demons around you treat you every time you hold one of these balls. It’s so sweet and considerate and just so Diavolo. You wish you could hug him right now and thank him for always trying to be a better man for you. He doesn’t seem like he will ever realize that he’s enough already, which simultaneously warms and breaks your heart.
He really thinks too highly of you. You’re not that special.
Barbatos leads you to a bench and gestures for you to sit. You do so without complaint, and before you can say anything he’s on his knees and massaging your calves. You feel yourself heating up in the face (because you still feel like he shouldn’t be doing these things for you), but you’ve learned a while ago that he takes pleasure in serving people. So you let him do his thing.
Part of your flustered state is also embarrassment, and despite your best efforts you cannot stop your eyes from darting around the gardens to check if anyone is paying attention to you. Thankfully, they all seem enraptured by an illusionist hired for the event who’s stationed in front of the grandiose fountain. He keeps making wispy demonic figures swallow running humanoid figures whole.
You’re used to this.
Another servant comes by, one by the name of Marie Anne. You know her well. Diavolo has always been very kind to her, offering her a life away from the downright cruel aristocratic family she had before. You don’t know the details, and you don’t ask. It’s not your place.
The demoness curtsies and smiles, offering you a bubbling glass of Demonus. It can’t get you drunk, but it can be refreshing. You take it and thank her. Her cheeks turn pink and she curtsies again before scurrying towards the crowd of demons watching the illusionist.
It’s funny how some demons could be so kind and others so nasty. There were many similarities that they have with humans, whether they wanted to admit it or not.
You tell Barbatos that he can stop now, and he halts his motions and stands up immediately. You’re still not used to being pampered in such a way, so you thank him. He only smiles and tells you it’s not necessary.
“I believe this is why the servants are taking a quick liking to you.” he muses, “I hardly think they would be this receptive if My Lord had married a witch or a member of the aristocracy.”
“You really think so?” you say, feeling your cheeks burn again from the praise, “I…I’m not doing anything special.”
“A simple thank you goes a long way, My Liege.” he hums, a content smile on his face as he stands beside you.
You suppose he’s right. After all, you’ve only heard (and seen, you think bitterly) terrible things about the aristocracy. They’re rude and impatient and only ever think about themselves when it comes to policies that affect the entire Devildom. If they didn’t fear Diavolo so much they surely would have attempted to overthrow him by now.
Too bad, you think smugly, staring at the insolent illusionist again as he makes a smokey human child scream at a demonic creature emerging from an equally smokey closet, He would destroy all of you if you even tried.
You feel immature for the thought only seconds later. You’re a ruler. You need to get your act together—you can’t be just as bad as them.
“My Liege, it’s almost time for the first official dance of the night.” Barbatos bows to you, swooping his hand gracefully towards the ballroom, “Would you like to reconvene with My Lord?”
“Please. I thought I would never get to see him tonight.” you groan, attempting to walk off the slight cramp in your calf as you follow Barbatos back into the fray.
The second your shoes hit the shiny flooring and make that click clack sound, there are shimmering eyes drawn to your form. They snap away as soon as they look, though, and whether it’s disgust or fear of Barbatos you don’t know. It doesn’t matter though, because finally you’ll get to see your beloved after he’s been mingling with the aristocracy all night. It isn’t hard to find him either, because amidst all the other clumps of beautiful demons you can clearly see an even bigger clump closer to the center.
You don’t even have to mumble awkward ”excuse me’s” as they all step aside for you (mostly for Barbatos though, as he’s leading the way and they’ve already made it plenty clear that they do not respect you) and before you know it, you’re standing in front of your beaming husband and a rather disgruntled Lucifer. He looks about as comfortable as you do in your formal wear, though he doesn’t show it. It’s too bad you know him well enough to see past his facade and pick up on all his little mannerisms he would never allow anyone else to see.
You spare him the teasing right now.
You try not to feel self conscious as you take your place by Diavolo’s side, a soft giggle leaving the lips of the demon you kiss goodnight every evening.
“Hello, my dear.” he whispers in your ear, stooping down to kiss your hand, “I’m pleased to see that you’re well. Have you been enjoying the festivities?”
Lie. Lie until you’re alone with him and can finally be yourself again.
“Yes, it's been lovely.” you lie through your teeth, a single drop of sweat sliding down the back of your neck as hundreds of pairs of eyes bore into you, “Barbatos has been most helpful. I’m incredibly thankful for him.”
Diavolo lights up like a little puppy dog at the mention of his butler’s name, and lets another loud laugh escape him. Despite his cheerful demeanor, you can still feel the hateful glares being directed your way. In the periphery of your vision, you can see Lucifer glaring right back at the demons behind you, and that gesture alone warms your heart. You are safe with these demons. Things will get better.
Even if better is in a few hours, when you and Diavolo will be in bed and he’ll spoon you and hold you tightly and whisper words of love and affection into your ear until you fall asleep. You discovered his habit for sleepy rambling relatively quickly after the wedding, and eventually you couldn’t sleep without it. If it wasn’t for his love, you surely never would have gotten this far with interrealm relations. If it had been anyone else, you would’ve given up.
Diavolo was the definition of shoot for the stars. He truly was an amazing demon.
“My dear.” he coos, eyes crinkling at the edges as he smiles that cheesy grin you know all too well and love far too much, “May I have this dance?”
He stretches a hand out for you to take, a symbol of how you two are bridging two realms together. Some of the people here tonight may think that’s the reason you two are doing this, that it's a diplomatic display to marry each other, but they’d be wrong. You know Diavolo isn’t the type to do something like that.
It’s like the demons in this palace tonight can’t understand that you two just love each other, and that's that.
And so you take his hand.
He sighs, a blissful sound that you know only you can produce from him, and sweeps you across the dance floor. His hand on your lower back is firm and unyielding, but it’s not possessive. Even when you were still living with the demon brothers, he never once overstepped any bounds.
Part of you wished he did.
It wasn’t just him that had wanted you two to spend time together.
You suppose that doesn’t matter anymore, not when his grip is so sure, not when his heartbeat is pounding in your ears as you rest your head against him, not when the demons and demonesses are moving out of your way. You know the respect is short lived and that they are only doing this for Diavolo, but that doesn’t stop you from enjoying it for now. Moments where a demon steps aside for a human are few and far between, but with you and Diavolo working together, you hope it will become more common.
“I love you.” you whisper to him, the words quiet enough so that only you two can hear them. You aren’t ready to declare such a vulnerable thing on your own, not when these demons have the strength to rip you apart.
And so Diavolo helps you, just as he always does.
“I love you more than anything.” he declares, his voice as loud as a blaring trumpet, a sharp contrast to your softness. You feel your face begin to burn, especially when you hear a murmur ripple through the crowd, but you cannot stop the wobbly smile on your face.
“Disgusting.”
“A human? Really? How will they rule us?”
“It would have been better if we stayed with our own kind.”
“What is Lord Diavolo doing?”
The ballroom begins to buzz and you feel yourself growing less and less sure of yourself. There are tears pricking your eyes, but you will them away. You cannot let them win.
And then, you see Diavolo’s form ripple. Wings sprout from his back and horns protrude from his head and there’s an uncharacteristically stern glare on his face as he fixes his malice at who you can only assume are the perpetrators.
You feel safe.
Maybe it’s a farce.
Maybe it’s make believe.
Maybe it’s temporary.
But Diavolo’s dream is possible, and you believe in him.
You just need to endure the burdens of royalty for him—the burdens he’s been bearing by himself for far too long.
1K notes · View notes
nightyelean · 11 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
ehm
Huh
542 notes · View notes
its-me-vixen · 3 months
Text
This post gives me thoughts but they feel too dark to just add on ajshddjifj
Tumblr media
The idea of Angel standing up for Husk against Alastor is SO good but I love it because of how easily Alastor would just, like, crush him under his heel?? I imagine Husk's brief flash of hope dashed as Alastor snaps the Tommys from Angel's hands and deals an intense blow that cracks bone and seeps blood.
Angel crumbling to the ground after slamming into the nearest wall, blood pooling quickly around him... Husk goes cold, shuddering all over again. Alastor wouldn't even dignify him with a response.
Even worse yet, imagine Alastor dragging Husk behind on that glowing green chain as he's nearly catatonic watching the life twitch and struggle in the body of the first person that he'd really opened up to and made a connection with.
130 notes · View notes
hollow-gypsy · 1 year
Text
He had his depression arc in Sing
Tumblr media
He had his anxiety arc in Sing 2
Tumblr media
Give me that ptsd arc in Sing 3 😤
391 notes · View notes
yonemurishiroku · 7 months
Text
Is Rick aware that giving Nico a face-scar would remind Dionysus of Luke Castellan or is it just me?
135 notes · View notes
Text
Yet another doodle from the gala scene of "The Drakes Spoiled brat (i'm sorry dad)"
Featuring Timothy Drake in my best attempt at the family guy death pose
Tumblr media
Link below + Fic info (if interested)
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.
33 notes · View notes
yeonpm · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media
gepard x gn reader
request,; gepard w reader who ends up fucking off while he’s working in the snow plains. whether reader died or left or got kidnapped or something is entirely up to you. (TYSM FOR THE REQ PVBBY UR SO MWAH)
summary,; you end up being left behind.
cw,; lowercase writing, gepard is a bit ooc, neglectful gepard :(, overall gepard is not caring enough towards reader, a couple of swears, no pronouns for reader used, crying, reader isn't the trailblazer, angst.
"yeon",; ive never written for gepard b4 so he's gonna be a bit off but he's meant to be in this anyways so
"wasted summers" by juju<3
gepard, who always held his job to guard belobog above everything else. something about helping the people of his city just urged him on.
but when he met you, he seemed to warm up a little.
you met him in the middle of what one of the astral express members mentioned as "winter." an astral express member, a bubbly girl with pink hair, told you how it's always the coldest season, but how it was always pretty with the snow and perfect time for family and friends.
just like how winter phases into summer, which the same girl described as the best season for it warmth, gepard's stern personality gently melted away when he met you.
the first few months went extraordinary well. a lot of pda, and always spending time together. even the other guards seemed to be more relaxed as their commander did.
that was, until it was almost like he got tired of you. he started to stop talking to you as much, seeming to zone out during your stories or long rants about the day, and sometimes pushed you away if you tried to talk to him during his working hours.
at first, it wasn't that bad. he still held your hand. cuddled with you, told you how you were his love.
but as time went by, it started to get worse.
it's been maybe three or four weeks since he's started to become distant. you're starting to get worried- did he not love you anymore?
you wanted to spend time with gepard again. you missed him.
so when there was an exploration mission in the outlying plains, and knew there weren't many guards going with him, you asked him if you could come along.
he seemed to be fine with it. but his answer was so simple, so nonchalant, that maybe he simply didn't care.
as you treaded through the snow, fingers red at the tips as they gripped onto your jacket, your footprints leaving behind a trail that would eventually disappear.
gepard didn’t even bother to try and talk to you, and it was pretty much a one-sided conversation until you eventually realized he didn’t want to talk and left him alone.
your gaze seemed to be stuck at your shoes sinking into the snow with each step, before finally lifting your head. your neck ached from looking down for so long.
but when you did look up, you were a bit surprised. the gently falling snow, the edges of cliffs, and the way the snow seemed to clung to your clothes all were really… calming.
you were so caught up with your surroundings that you ended up being behind the rest of the group. you started to run towards them to try and catch up, but the more you ran the more they seemed to disappear into the haze of the snowdrift.
you eventually had to stop, hands on your knees as you panted, trying to catch your breath. for all you knew, you could have been running the opposite way of the rest of the group for qlipoth knows how long.
you look around. you try calling out for gepard, for any silvermane guards, for anyone.
you wanted to go home.
and not far away, a guard turns around. gepard pauses, recognizing one of the guards stopped. he asked what’s wrong. the guard claimed he heard a voice calling for help. gepard brushed it off, telling the guard how he’s imagining things, and that the mission was more important than whatever he heard.
but in the back of his mind, he knew someone was missing. he simply sighed, pushed it away, and kept going.
when he got back into the welcoming warmth of belobog, he immediately dismissed the guards, telling them to warm up and go get some rest. it’s been a very long day.
however, when he turned around and someone tapped him on the shoulder, he turned back around and was about to scold you for bothering him so much, but it wasn’t you. it was a civilian.
…where were you? didn’t you go out to the snow plains with him?
he tried to brush off the fact that you might still be out there and just tried to think you went immediately to your house to get some rest.
but… you were pestering him the entire mission. you always wanted to spend time with him. wouldn’t you have stayed back and tried to talk to him?
his mind spun as suddenly, the civilian’s queries weren’t important anymore.
gepard, who used to love you so much.
gepard, who now holds your limp body in his arms.
gepard, who feels his cheeks tingling with his own tears that slid down his cheeks.
gepard, who tried to grab your hand— but it’s cold, oh so cold.
--
yummy yummy angsty in my tummy
sorry this is rushed lmao 🧌
HELP I JUST REALIZED HOW DIFFERENT THIS FIC TURNED OUT COMPARED TO THE REQUEST I JUST KINDA ZONED OUT AND THIS IS WHAT CAME OUT IM SORRY 😭😭
98 notes · View notes