#--and not trust ANY of the choices I made to be intentional

[a-little-ray-of-fantasy]

An analysis on how Sir Pentious' character design represents his personality and development perfectly (beware of Hazbin Hotel spoilers)

Let's get this out of the way: Sir Pentious is a snake, an animal mostly known for generally believed negative traits such as poison, deceit and betrayal. We don't know WHY he's in Hell, maybe he was a "snake oil salesman" considering he comes from the Victorian times and he's into hyping up what he does, or maybe he was into war. Thing is, he's a Sinner whose design just scream "Evil".

(BTW, a snake could also represent "fertility": looking at you, Egg Boiz!)

He always had eyes all around him not just because of a stylistic choice.

Sir Pentious always felt like he was watched, and had to watch out for any danger.

"Everyone here is too nice: obviously it must be a lie! I can sense they are planning to kill me, but when?! HOW?! I must be PREPARED!"

Sadly, he's been constantly berated by other demons, far more effective in destruction, status, cruelty and charisma. Alastor won't ever bother to remember him, Cherri always ones up him, and the Vs, the ones he admires to most, won't care less about him.

To the point that Vox sent him as a spy without the intention to save him if things were going to fail. Heck, he even openly tells him to die while calling him a failure.

So of course he's got reasons to have trust issues, or taking everything so seriously, being constantly reminded of what he can't accomplish. So he puts an air of grandure that may be very flamboyant, but is VERY frail.

But, if we have to be frank here, his biggest source of insecurities... is himself.

He has eyes on his tail (his softer, more vulnerable side, which is ironically made even MORE lieable to getting hurt because of how sensitive those organs are), and inside his hood, so he could look out better for danger when on alert mode.

Heck, even the mark on his hood kinda resembles one eye.

Problem is, when you see his hood folded, when he's at ease, neutral or sad, those are not looking at outside sources.

They're looking at him, at his back. A constant stare that happens everytime he lets his guard down and shows how vulnerable he is. A gaze that can sense all of his weakness, his struggles, his insecurities.

And it's all him.

Pentious constantly believes that his inferiority complex will fade away once he'll accomplish something grand that will make others accept him. But he is his biggest critic, his worst enemy: HE is the one who believes he's a failure, that he'll never gain approval from others.

This show takes place in Hell, but this is Sir Pentious' personal Hell: insecurity born out of self hatred. Doomed to feel everyone's gaze upon him, including his own. Believing the danger to his self esteem is from others, when it's really from him.

But then he's accepted at the Hazbin Hotel: Charlie forgives him, he bonds with Angel, Husk and Niffty who don't care a bit about what he's accomplished or not, or what he's done in the past.

He feels more comfortable in showing his vulnerable side, and no one judges him for how easy it is for him to get emotional.

Of course he's still very insecure, considering how he struggles to confess to Cherri, but notice how he stops building machines or planning to attack others as soon as he starts bonding with the others: he doesn't have a reason to destroy or attack, now that he knows he's loved.

And his final design, when he goes to Heaven, shows how much he's changed, yet stayed the same. He may have died a hero, but he's still the same awkward snake we've come to love.

Speaking of love, let's talk about that!

No more eyes on his tail, now it's just on his chest (showing he's opened his heart), his glasses are now heart shaped, and even the markings inside his hood resemble kiss marks more than anything else.

And look: the mark on his hood is now heart shaped!

Why all these hearts? Why did all the eyes disappeared from his body? Even his eyes that were looking at his back?

Simple: love. Love defeated his insecurities and self hatred. He died for love.

He died protecting his friends, his new family, his new home.

He confessed and kissed Cherri knowing full well he wouldn't have made it, and yet he went anyway.

The usually cowardly and timid Pentious actually faced a great danger with courage and determination: he acted selflessly by putting himself in harm's way, he didn't steal (naturally) and by going against Adam he did indeed "stick it to the man"!

He used his weaponry knowhow and battle experience not to conquer, but to save his loved ones.

His only thought up until his demise was: "I'll go down protecting them".

And he's been rewarded not only by becoming an angel, but also being spawned directly in front of Emily and Sera, two Seraphim, the highest rank for an angel to have, who have also been depicted as snakes of fire throughout history! Sir Pentious, the lowly demon considered a failure by everyone, actually has been noticed by the Seraphim! He's come so far!

He's now come to represent the REAL symbolism of a snake: the duality of death and rebirth, transformation and immortality (ironically a reference to the fact he's been around since 1888 without ever dying from any Extermination or blessed weapons).

And isn't so poetic that a snake, the "source of the original evil", was the first sinner to ascend to Heaven? Or that this episode was released on February 1st, or National Serpent Day?

And of course, as the Bible itself says:

"Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends."

(John 15:13)

And knowing him, I'm confident in saying he'll keep helping his friends even in his new position, like the soft hearted noodle he's always been, but was to afraid to show it up until now.

#Vivziepop #Hazbin Hotel #Hazbin Hotel Spoilers #Hazbin Spoilers #Sir Pentious #Fave Character #Comfort Character #Personal Rambles #What a wonderful lovable character he turned out to be 🥲 #Character Analysis

[darantha]

How to Spot AI images (Hopefully)

So, I did see GailyNovelry's excellent post on this (Link here), but saw that there also were some confusion and they were using a environment image as their example, so I thought I'd do a breakdown that was more character centric.

The key thing with AI images is that the program does not know what it is making. And, arguably, they thrive on that we are currently conditioned to not really look at things for too long before we hit that engagement button and/or just scroll onwards to whatever next the algorithm feeds us.

It's hard to fight that urge, I know, but if you just pause and look, you'll soon start spotting things that just do not make sense, and I don't just mean that the pretty booby elven fighter is sporting seven fingers on one hand. Those are the obvious things. I'll try to cover the general sort of artefacts that tend to tip me off to the fact that a image is generated rather than actually hand-made by someone making informed design decisions as opposed to trust what amounts to RNG. I think this is important as there's those who do not tag their images as AI generated, and try to scam people with commissions.

And, as the saying goes... The devil is in the details.

To start with I picked this image from deviantuser CeiEllem. At first glance, it looks... very impressive. Sharp looking elf lady with killer hair. 10/10 wish I could rock that haircolour.

But, it is AI generated. Aside from the general tell that is this hyper rendered, near photorealistic style that AI images often have, there's a lot of details that tips it off to just not having been made by a human who actually made the decisions.

Since AI is just working off patterns and not actual decisions, things like hair is a immediate giveaway that you're looking at a AI image.

(Deviantart users: daralyth, DavidZarn and lunayokai)

In all these three images you can see just how hair whisps off into weird nonsense shapes or even meld into the background or clothing. Because, again, the AI doesn't know what its doing, just working with shapes. Similarly, background elements that just stop and start randomly is a dead giveaway, like the tail in the first image.

As I've said, details is the key to spotting these images, and another giveaway is the sheer density of details that is just noise.

This is from users Rigtorok7, and the details are so noisy, absolutely miniscule in scale, and hypersharp, yet have no actual design to them. Artists imply details all the time. We don't render out every single nook and crevice, and since we actually know what we want the viewer to look at, we'll pull back and simplify things so you don't want to look at the big chunk of very noisy hair ornament or necklace instead of the face of the character.

For comparison, this is how it looks when I, personally, indulge in doing 'overdetailing' of something (because I am forever weak for painting jewelry).

BUT I want to stress that the key here isn't that detailing equals AI generated. The key is the lack of design choices IN the details. There's a lot of artists out there, and someone painting out all those nooks and crannies in something doesn't mean they are a AI user. This painting by Leighton is super detailed but you see the intent with all the details. You have a focus with the people in the boat and secondary read of the figure in the door, where the details are a lot more implied and less sharp.

AI can't do that, because AI isn't making any decisions.

I couldn't find any good example once I went looking, but if you're into fantasy art: look for people just holding weird 'swords'.

AI is rapidly evolving, so who knows how much this'll help in 3 months, but for now, this is how I spot things.

But, in the end, the biggest giveaway that someone is using an AI generator is that they've filled up page after page on deviantart/artstation/wherever in the past like... six to nine months, and often swing between wildly different styles. If you're unsure, look up the source of a image. Another clue can be generic 'untitled' or just 'elf lady' sort of titles, since someone uploading 30 images a week isn't going to make unique titles for each image.

Also, commissioners. ... you should ALWAYS get a sketch and progress image from a artist that you hire. My art directors would have my head on a plate if I didn't send them a rough sketch and progress shot before finalising the image.

#go forth #be free PSA post

[morganshifts]

Ultimate Shifting Affirmations List

Hello, this is my first post, and I have compiled an organized list of Reality Shifting affirmations. Enjoy!

Basic:

I am a reality shifter

Shifting is my natural ability

Shifting is as simple as breathing

Every breath I take brings me closer to my desired reality

I am a master shifter

Confidence/Belief:

I am pure consciousness, not limited by my physical mind or body

I am pure consciousness, not bound to any particular reality

I am confident in my ability to shift

My mind is a portal to everything I desire

My intentions shape my reality

I fully trust in my ability to shift

I choose to wake up in my desired reality

I will shift whenever I intend to

I am excited to wake up in my desired reality

I have made the choice to shift realities

I give myself permission to shift

I am immune from any blockages or negative mindsets

I am completely safe while shifting realities

I am completely in control of my shifting journey

I am focused on my desired reality

I can shift in any way I please

I know that I am in my desired reality

I am a successful reality shifter

Attitude:

I want to shift to my desired reality

I am motivated to shift to my desired reality

I am looking forward to experiencing my desired reality

I am open to the infinite possibilities of reality shifting

Shifting is a natural part of my existence

I am not afraid to shift

I attract what I desire

I am in control of my reality

I am comfortable with the concept of reality shifting

I am ready to shift whenever I intend to

I am not holding myself back from shifting

I allow my consciousness to explore any reality I please

I am grateful for my opportunity to shift realities

I am not controlled by any fears or doubts I might have

I deserve to shift

I deserve to experience my desired reality

Connecting:

I am one with my desired reality

I am my desired reality self

I feel a strong connection to my desired reality

I have memories and thoughts of my desired reality self

I am aligned with my desired reality self

I choose thoughts that connect me with my desired reality

I am consciously aware that I exist in my desired reality right now

I feel the emotions of my desired reality

I belong in my desired reality

I can feel the excitement of being in my desired reality

I am looking forward to reaching my desired reality

I am aware of my desired reality and who I am within it

Shifting methods/visualization:

I can easily visualize my desired reality

I can visualize being my desired reality self

I find it easy to visualize scenarios of my desired reality

I can effortlessly picture the emotions I feel in my desired reality

I can easily picture the sensory details (sights, sounds, etc) of my desired reality

I can effortlessly visualize any element of my desired reality

I can shift easily with any method I choose

I can easily use shifting methods

Good luck with your shifting journey!

#shifting scenarios #desired reality #reality shifting #shifting realities #shifters #shiftblr #affirmations #shifting affirmations #reality shifter #shifting community

[kneelingshadowsalome]

what if engel is a virgin but insanely boy crazy 👁👄👁 and she will/can never not be

Hoooo boy!

NSFW below the cut

So, um. Reader never told König if she's experienced or not (if she was a virgin then my thoughts and prayers are with her.) Part of König's hostility in the crazy mating scene comes from his belief that Engel is not a virgin. He is extremely jealous of everyone reader might've had before him, so he guides his frustration to heated, possessive sex, stripping her with a knife, and so on.

But if we imagine you told him it's your first time, then things would go slightly differently. König would be much more delicate with you!

And good God… He would be even more enamored. You're kind, you're sweet, you're innocent and you're a virgin too?

König can’t believe his luck. You're just perfect. He can’t stand the thought of you with other men so finding out you're in fact untouched is only a blessing. König wants to be the only one who makes you scream and sigh. And what an ultimate fantasy: he gets to corrupt a pure, pristine virgin (of course König would never put it this way. He's simply introducing you to pleasure. Nothing wrong with that, right? He has good intentions! He's the best choice if you wish to feel good, ja ❤️)

So, König tries to keep his cool as he asks if this is what you truly want (yes? please say yes) and if this is the right time (this is as good a time as any, you just need to trust him!), is he truly the man you want to give yourself to? (tell him he’s the one, you will not regret it.)

He tries to be a gentleman and at the same time can't keep his hands off you. Hands steal their way under your clothes as he tries to persuade you by whispering things like: "I will be good to you, there’s no need to be afraid. I will be gentle, I promise…" But it’s difficult to believe anything he says because his hands are trembling, the whole man is trembling and throbbing and panting already.

If and when you're willing to have sex, König will take you in a classic missionary. No pounding from behind, no crazy unhinged mating press. And he prepares you first! With his tongue, perhaps pulls out an orgasm or two so that you will be relaxed and ready for him. It’s very likely that König pumps himself through an orgasm too while pleasing you with his mouth because he’s waited so long for this moment. Your taste and the sounds you make as he licks you to ruin are far too much. He will erupt in mere minutes and then be hard again in no time for the main event.

König tries so, so hard to control the urge to just plow you until your eyes roll in your head. He tries his best not to simply pound himself straight into oblivion. He wanted you before, sure, but now his want is doubled. Tripled. He fears he will hurt you and basically shakes from the effort to restrain himself as he finally enters you.

He goes a little over the top with the praise, too... You feel so good, nothing has ever felt better, you're such a good girl when you said yes, Lieber Gott you look cute like this, he knew you were made for him, etc. And he wants to know that you feel good. Not just to check if you're ok, but to hear how he makes you feel. Does he give you pleasure? Do you like it when he does it slowly? He can be more rough if you want. How does it feel to have a man inside you for the first time?

He's sweating from love and frustration, the hunger becomes all-consuming as he approaches his peak, and you get to see a sliver of who this man truly is underneath all that fake composure. As sad as it sounds, there's a chance he is so lost in you that he cums before you. He just can't help it. But he will make sure you get all the pleasure you need before the night is through and be extra attentive with the aftercare ❤️ (Also he would definitely be one of those guys who check if there's blood after you did it because he thinks it's a given that there is)

#answered #yandere könig #könig headcanons #könig imagine

[l8dyvenus]

astrology observations. #5

+ Moon in 4th tend to look for partners that remind them of their mothers. If placed in a man’s chart, I typically see this as them going for older women. 👩‍👦

regardless, If you want to bag a cancer placement man, nurture him or act like his mother. It will literally do the trick🙃trust me, I know, it’s literally how I bagged my boyfriend. but be careful, they most definitely have breeding kicks especially mixed w Virgo.

and if they are ethnic, learn more about the culture or ask about it. take trips to their homeland too! or just simply do your own research to impress them.

+ it’s true, Libra suns run from conflict or ignore it. and if mixed with Water placements in a chart, they tend to lie to try to keep the peace. sometimes it does backfire on them.

+ Leo moons, did your mom always try to humble you?

+ Cancers and Taurus’s go so well together 🥹

+ I noticed that people who’s planet(s) fall into my 8th house tend to give/buy me things everytime I see them. I literally don’t even have to ask. they give me more compliments and find me pretty than people who’s planets fall into my 1st. 🤣

As a 8th house Stellium, I loveeeee people who fall into my 8th house, never had an bad encounter we just always clicked🫶🏾.

+ read a post that said Mars in 4th H takes on which ever parent shows that aggressive impatience nature and whewww, they didn’t have to read me like that 🤭.

+ a Scorpio moon once told me, “if they are not obsessed with me, I just don’t think they like me fr” LMFAOOO

+ All Scorpio moons aren’t as bad as portrayed to be, it really just depends on their relationship with their mother. I see this placement as like having a Cancer/4th house moon. even though Scorpio is at fault in this position, it shows greatly that the mother has a MAJOR influence and role on how they act, respond, their mindset, and characteristics. and all Scorpio moons and their relationship with their mothers are not bad either. but they could be over smothering. either a light helicopter parent, or a over the extent helicopter parent. I noticed that it depends on how well the moon is aspected. when the moon is negatively aspected, the moon person typically takes on the toxic characteristics and personality of their mothers which makes them destructive and “bad” as the stereotype. when not negatively aspecting, they are much more self/socially aware and conscious. not saying that negative aspected moons can’t be more self evolved, but they tend to have the shorter end of the stick. they just have take that journey to get there.

I met a Scorpio moon where his moon was well aspected with trines and sextiles to harmonious planets. His mother wasn’t abusive, narcissistic or any of that sort. Scorpio moon people typically were born at a time where it was very inconvenient traumatic time for the parents, especially the mother. This showed up in his chart as his mother being over protective and overly affectionate. Not necessarily an over the extent “helicopter” parent, but he would tell me she calls him everyday, sends him bible scriptures, tried to put him in the best schools, best positions in life to be better or have better than she had. Although majority of the choices she made for him, is not what he wanted, he knows that it’s from the good intentions of her heart. Pluto = evolution, death/rebirth, betterment, etc, so her actions showed up as wanting to protect him in her own traumatic way but also wanting him to evolve into something better.

+ Justice from the movie Poetic Justice definitely had Venus in the 8th H 💌

side note - I feel like erykah badu does too. I saw a post saying that every man she dealt with when they met her weren’t self evolve, then after their relationship they were all into the occult and dressed bohemian lmfaooo. like literally, search up erykah badu and the guys she dated, how they look then and now.

+ Neptune in the 4th, is it just me or is it hard to get anything done in your house without feeling tired? I have a lot of energy outside of my home, but when I get to my moms place I feel lazy and especially depressive. It’s hard for me to do anything. I didn’t realize that until I recently left for college then came back for visits, and then permanently stayed. Lmk 👄?

+ a Uranus dom or heavily placed in a males chart most definitely likes to paint his own nails. I don’t know if he is or not, but search up Dennis Rodman. He gives me Uranus Dom Vibes.

+ on the topic of Uranus, Aquarius, Leo, & Virgo placements in 8th degree are very experimental, but they can be deep into things like the dark web, bdsm, smut, abusive sex, etc. like really dark sexual shit.

+ Capricorn placements and the dying urge to crack the hell out of every bone in their body just for fun >> 😼

+ Aquarius moons tend to run to their friends for every thing, especially when it comes to family matters. friends could be an outlet for venting. But I noticed they tend to have a weird relationship with them. One minute they can have a lot of close friends and the next, those same close friends aren’t very close anymore.

+ water placements (especially moons) pay attention to how you feel around ppl. that is your biggest gift.

Anyways, CIAO! 😽

MASTERLIST

#astrology #astro community #astro notes #astrology notes #astro #astrology observations #scorpio moon #Uranus #annual profections #moon in 4th house

[navybrat817]

A Little Push

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky doesn't think he deserves to be with you, but gets a little push to speak up when he sees your ex. Word Count: Over 5.1k Warnings: E.S.C, unprotected (v)aginal (s)ex (wrap it before you tap it), shower (s)ex, jealousy, (f)lirting, insecurities, slight feels (it's me), idiotic Bucky Barnes (he’s a warning, okay?) and an ex. A/N: For @drabblewithfrannybarnes and the gym prompt. I hope you like it! ❤️ Beta read by the wonderful @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. Moodboard by yours truly, banner by the lovely @sgt-seabass (and thank you!), and divider by the amazing @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky wondered some days if he made the right choice by working for S.H.I.E.L.D.. While he didn’t consider himself to be completely standoffish as he recovered, no matter how much Sam tried to joke about that, he still had a difficult time getting along with some of the agents. It wasn’t for lack of trying. He attempted to strike up conversations with a few, but that only led to forced interactions and awkward silences.

He didn’t try much after that.

Maybe they didn’t trust him because of his past, even with the work he had done with the Avengers, even though he had no choice in his past actions. He wouldn’t hold that against them. He was even ready to accept that his circle of friends would remain small, which he didn’t mind.

But he hadn’t expected you to come along.

“You can sit with me if you’d like.”

At first, he thought you were talking to someone else until he realized your gaze was on him. He didn’t recognize you, but he remembered Steve saying that they were getting a transfer from another division. He hoped he wasn’t glaring or giving you an awkward stare, but your beautiful smile threw him for a loop. Unless he was with Steve and the others, no one asked him to sit with them.

But you did.

It took another moment for him to respond, but he took you up on your offer and joined you. He also picked up on the stares right away from the other agents, like they were jealous that he managed to get your attention. He didn’t blame them for wanting it.

Especially since the next smile you gave him made him fall in love a little more.

Maybe love at first sight does exist.

“Do you go by Bucky or James? I can call you Sarge if you want, Sergeant.”

You explained over breakfast that you transferred because you needed a change and were excited to take on some new tasks. He didn’t pick up on any bad intentions as you spoke with him. He found it easy to talk to you. You even got a couple of smiles out of him.

“Thanks for sitting with me. Do you want to have breakfast with me again tomorrow?”

Bucky accepted.

As the two of you grew closer, it became routine to grab breakfast together in the breakroom and chat quietly between reps when you worked out. He even shifted his schedule around so the two of you could exercise together. He looked forward to it.

And naturally on his path to continue making amends, he had to punish himself by thinking he wasn’t good enough for you. Because why would he be? You became an agent to help others and how many had he destroyed? Not by choice, never his choice, but he was still waging that war in his mind and heart.

“Will today finally be the day, Barnes?” Natasha asked as she finished her stretches.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Bucky grumbled, his eyes flickering to the clock on the wall as he waited for you to enter the onsite gym.

“Yes, you do and let it be today, please. I can’t have Rogers winning the pool.”

“You’re taking bets, Romanoff?” he asked with a cold stare, as if the Black Widow would cower under his gaze. “Un-fucking-believable.”

He told Steve in confidence that he liked being around you. So, naturally, Sam and Natasha found out not long after that. Steve said more than once that Bucky wouldn’t be breaking any bylaws by dating you. Natasha added in passing that mixing business with pleasure didn’t seem to bother you as you had dated another agent sometime back before your transfer. An amicable breakup from what Sam heard.

For living in a world of spies and soldiers, no one could seem to keep their mouths shut.

“I’ll split the winnings with you,” she offered unapologetically. “You can use it to take her on a date. You do have something nice to wear that isn’t a Henley, right?”

The smartass remark he had on the tip of his tongue died when you walked through the door. Clad in your normal black tank top and leggings with your bag on your shoulder, he found himself staring the way he always did as you glided along the floor with confidence and a smile. A few heads turned to get a glimpse as you walked by.

But you directed your gaze at him.

“Hey, handsome,” you smiled, setting your bag and water down. You didn’t call anyone handsome or any other sort of nickname, except for him.

“Hi?”

Why did that come out as a question?

“Hopeless,” Natasha muttered softly enough for him to hear. “Hey.”

“Hey, Nat. How’s it going?”

His cheeks warmed as you began your stretches and chatted with the redhead, wanting nothing more than to put his hands on your hips and guide your body. He wanted to believe that you liked him enough for him to make a move. Why else would you keep getting breakfast with him?

And why else were you bending over right in front of him in a pair of leggings that looked like a second skin?

Fuck.

“Oh, I have your book in my bag,” you said, looking at him from between your legs. “Thanks for lending it to me.”

Thank fuck I’m upside down from your angle so you don’t see me staring at your ass.

Guilt crept in as he blinked. You were nothing but kind and accepting and here he was oogling over you. Why couldn’t he get it through his head that he was your friend and nothing more?

On the other hand, why couldn’t he get it through his head that he had the right to be happy?

“Don’t mention it,” he said.

“Do you mind spotting me?” you asked once you finished warming up. “Unless you plan to help Nat. I can wait.”

“Oh, no. I’m just here for entertainment,” she joked.

“Thanks,” you smiled, heading to the first machine with Bucky in tow. “Any plans this weekend?” you asked, checking the weight on the bar before you took a seat.

“No plans,” he said, taking his spot at the end of the bench so he could spot you. “Kind of a boring old man.”

“You’re not boring,” you said, winking as you laid back. “But I’ll give you old.”

“Rude,” he smiled as you giggled. “What about you?”

“Nope. No plans,” you answered, giving him a glance as you set your hands on the bar. “No plans at all.”

Are you giving me an opening?

“That’s too bad,” is what he said.

“Yeah, I guess it is,” you said with quiet disappointment.

Sorry, Nat. Not winning the pool today because I’m a fucking idiot.

Bucky kept stealing glances at you as the two of you went through your normal workout routine, unable to figure out how you managed to look beautiful while lifting weights. The fact of the matter is you looked beautiful to him no matter what you did. He fluctuated between his heart stopping and losing his breath whenever he saw you. Especially when you smiled at him.

And he wouldn’t take that leap.

“You know what sounds really nice? A massage,” you said, setting the weight down to grab your water. He focused on your mouth as you brought the bottle to your lips, his fingers flexing as you swallowed once. Twice.

Are you giving me another opening?

Before Bucky could think of a suave reply, the door opened. A tall, dark haired agent he didn’t recognize walked in and did a slow sweep of the gym. From the quick assessment, he gathered that the guy was in shape. He didn’t necessarily walk through like he owned the place, but it bordered on cockiness.

I don’t even know him, so why do I want to punch his face in?

“Wait. Is that Nate?” you asked, your gaze following the man as Natasha silently walked over to join you. “What’s he doing here?”

Nate?

“You know him?” Bucky asked as the guy, Nate apparently, stopped to chat with someone by the mirrors.

“Uh, yeah,” you said, setting your water down and wiping your hands on your thighs as you avoided his gaze. “He’s my ex-boyfriend.”

Ex-boyfriend?

“You two worked in the same division, didn’t you? Before you transferred?” Natasha asked. You nodded in reply. “It didn’t work out with you two, huh?”

“No, but it wasn’t a dramatic breakup or anything. No hard feelings,” you explained.

Bucky remembered Sam saying it was amicable, but he still felt the need to shield you away from your ex. Even if he hadn’t spotted you yet. Maybe he was ignoring you. That couldn’t be it. No one could ignore you.

Did you want him to notice you?

“That’s a shame,” Natasha said, swinging her gaze toward Bucky. “He’s cute.”

Traitor. Thought you were my friend.

“Yeah, he is,” you agreed.

Bucky grabbed the nearest barbell to get his head back into why he was in the gym in the first place, gritting his teeth so hard he was shocked they didn’t crack.

“And there’s this thing he used to do with his tongue that just…” you trailed off with a sigh.

The metal hand gripped the barbell tighter. Nate was an ex, not a current boyfriend. It didn’t work out for a reason.

“You need a moment?” the redhead asked.

“No, I just need to get laid,” you said, glancing at Bucky out of the corner of your eye.

If you need to get laid, I can help you with that. Not Nate or some other prick. They’re not worthy of touching you. Neither am I, but that’s not the fucking point. I can do things with my tongue that’ll make you see stars.

“Bucky?” you asked gently. “Are you okay?”

Far fucking from it.

“Yeah, I’m good. Why?”

You pointed to the barbell in his hands. “Because you just bent that in half.”

Glancing down at his hands, he saw that the stainless steel was indeed bent in half and ignored Natasha’s snort as he tried to fix it. “I was just testing the durability. It’s terrible. A health and safety hazard, really.”

“I didn’t realize your job involved quality assurance,” you teased as he set the piece of equipment down.

“It’s kind of a new hobby,” he said, a weird look crossing his face.

A new hobby? Really?

“Okay, Sarge,” you giggled.

Your laughter seemed to catch Nate’s attention since he immediately looked behind him. A look of realization crossed his features before he smiled. The look on his face made Bucky’s heart drop as he excused himself from the agent he was speaking to and made a beeline toward you. The man may not be your boyfriend anymore, but he still felt something for you.

Either that or the look of longing was easily faked.

“Hey!" Nate smiled as he stopped in front of you, opening his arms as he leaned in. "Good to see you."

“You, too. And you don’t want to do that,” you said, gesturing to yourself. “I’m all sweaty.”

“Never bothered me before,” he said, wrapping his arms around you. He met Bucky’s gaze over your shoulder with the smallest of smirks. “Smell just as good as I remember.”

“Don’t,” Natasha whispered to Bucky when the hug lingered for a few more seconds.

Bucky wasn’t planning on doing anything. Not right now, at least. Committing murder wasn’t on his “to do” list when he woke up today, but he was seconds away from snapping. Would you forgive him if he broke one of Nate’s bones?

“You must be Bucky,” Nate said once he released you.

He had to stop himself from shoving you behind his back. “You must be the ex,” he said, not bothering with any attempt to be friendly. “Why are you here?”

Nate either didn’t intimidate easily or he didn’t care. “You talked about me?” he teased, nudging you with his elbow.

“No, not really,” you smiled a little, raising an eyebrow at Bucky.

He tried to keep a straight face because he wasn’t jealous. He had no reason to be jealous. That certainly wasn’t the reason why his fingers began to twitch. Wasn’t the reason he wanted to knock Nate’s teeth in.

Not at all.

“To anwer your question, I accepted a transfer and was getting a look around the place. I was also here to exercise, but now I think I want to catch up,” he smiled, turning his attention back to you.

“You transferred here?” you asked in disbelief.

You don’t sound thrilled, which is a good sign, right?

“Yeah, I got promoted,” he explained, angling his body to put distance between you and Bucky. “You doing anything after this?”

“Me,” Bucky said before his brain caught up with his mouth.

Maybe you didn't hear me.

Your eyebrows shot up as you leaned around Nate to stare at Bucky. "I'm doing you?" you asked.

Fuck, you heard me.

"Yeah, Barnes. Is she doing you?" Natasha asked without a hint of humor in her tone as Nate glared over his shoulder.

"I mean," he cleared his throat as he tried to think of an excuse, which wasn't easy with three pairs of eyes on him. "She's hanging out with me. Movie night."

"It's not even nighttime," Nate said skeptically.

"It's an early movie night," he grumbled.

"Yeah, an early movie night," you agreed slowly. Bucky almost sighed in relief before you looked at Nate. "But we can catch up later, okay? Think my workout is over for now."

Bucky's mouth fell open when you went to grab your things. "But-"

"Movie night. I know. Thanks for your help," you smiled, but it seemed forced. "I'll see you later, Nat. And Nate."

"Later," Nate said, his gaze lingering as you headed toward the locker room. "She really is something, isn't she?"

"Yeah, she is," Bucky agreed, staring after you, too. He couldn't argue with that.

"It's really nice that you two are friends," Nate smiled, clapping Bucky on the shoulder as his blood boiled. "Enjoy your movie night."

Natasha stepped in front of Bucky before he could go after the prick. "Do not," she said as Nate headed toward another machine.

"I have to do something," Bucky said because he was close to losing it.

"You really want to do something?" she asked, tilting her head toward the locker room. "Go talk to her. Please."

"Fine. I will," Bucky said, stepping around Natasha as he made up his mind.

"I meant when she was done!" she called after him.

Bucky stalked toward the locker room and pushed the double doors open. He took a breath as he walked through the first row of lockers and spotted you sitting on the bench. Was he making a big mistake?

"You lost?" you asked, removing one of your shoes.

He crossed his arms and shook his head as you took off the other shoe. "You didn't do a cool down."

You met his eyes and smiled. "That's why you came in here?"

"Did you know Nate would be here?" he blurted out.

Smooth.

You blinked slowly at him before you removed your socks. "Nope. And why would it matter if I did? He still works for this organization. Besides, we broke up and moved on."

"If he moved on, why was he smiling at you like that?" he accused.

You stood up with a shrug. "Because we get along? He's a friendly guy. That's just how he is."

"I know how guys smile at girls they like," he said. He knew because he smiled at you that way. "He's still into you."

The frown you gave him made him want to kiss it away before you giggled. "He is not into me anymore."

"Are you two going to date again?" he asked, taking two steps forward. You were still out of his reach. "I know I don't have the right to ask, but I have to know."

Because you're not my girl.

“No, you don't," you confirmed, your gaze softening as you shook your head. "But no, I’m not going to date him again. He's my ex for a reason and that's that."

Bucky inhaled and exhaled slowly, able to breathe a little easier.

"Why? Would it bother you if I did? Because if I didn't know any better, I'd think you were jealous. Bending the bar? Your not-so-subtle excuse for me not to hang out with him? Following me in here?"

The words got stuck in his throat as you waited for an answer, an expectant look on your face. Why was it so hard to say that it would bother him? It shouldn't because if that made you happy, he'd respect that.

Was it wrong that he wanted you to be happy with him and not some other guy?

You hung your head for a split second before you turned back to your locker. "Look, are you done grilling me or are you sticking around?" you asked, pulling your top over your head. "Because I have to shower."

"You think I won't follow you and finish this conversation?"

Your bra came off next. He knew that because you tossed the garment at his face and he was too stunned to catch it. It took him a moment to realize that you were facing him again, your breasts on display as you placed your hands on your hips.

A gentleman would have looked away. A good man would have left. But he was something else entirely and he couldn't stop staring at the vision of perfection in front of him.

"You're free to do whatever you want," you said casually as you spun around and shimmied out of your leggings. His eyes followed the curves as your underwear came off next and it took everything in him not to throw you across the bench and fuck you until you screamed his name. "But I told you. I have to shower."

Bucky didn't speak as you grabbed your towel and shower bag. You didn't bother covering up as you sauntered away from him, like being naked around him was a perfectly normal thing. He wanted it to be a normal thing.

Was that an invitation? Should he take it? Or was it a test?

"Fuck it," he mumbled as he kicked off his shoes and stripped, leaving his clothes next to yours as he searched for you again. If you ended up screaming or punching him, he'd accept that punishment and beg your forgiveness later. He let this go on long enough.

He froze when he saw you under the spray of the water, his cock twitching with interest as he watched the droplets slide from your chest to the vee between your legs. You had your eyes closed and he wasn't sure if he should call out to get your attention. He didn't want to frighten you and make you fall.

You gasped when you opened your eyes, but didn't make a move to cover yourself. He imagined this is what some men saw when a siren lured them out to sea. Beauty that they weren't worthy of looking upon, but too far gone to care as the tide swept them away.

"I guess you really want to finish that conversation?" you asked, your gaze dropping from his face to his chest and a bit lower.

Under your gaze, he wasn't afraid of you looking upon his scars. "I was jealous. I am jealous. I hated seeing him touch you," he admitted.

He wanted to replace Nate's touch with his own.

"There's nothing to be jealous of," you said, swallowing as he moved forward.

"Can't help it," he said, not blinking as he moved closer. "You also said I could do whatever I wanted."

"I did," you nodded.

His wide shoulders blocked some of the spray as he stepped into the shower and backed you against the wall. "What if I said I wanted to do you?"

Very fucking eloquent.

"I'd say it's about fucking time since I've been trying to get your attention and it better not be a joke," you said, placing your hands on his shoulders as your gaze went to his chest again.

You actually want me. Fuck.

He grasped your chin and lifted your head. The corner of his mouth twitched like he wanted to smile and his heart raced as his lips ghosted over yours. "You like me? And you want me to fuck you?"

He needed to hear you say it.

"I was hinting for you to ask me out this weekend. I thought it was obvious?" you asked, a small, vulnerable crack in your voice. "I like you, okay? I'm crazy about you. I have been since you sat down and had breakfast with me that first day and I-"

"I'm a fucking idiot," he whispered before his lips met yours.

His head spun as he kissed you unashamedly, unleashing the want he kept pent up for too long and showing no mercy as he swallowed down the moan you let out. His hands slid down to grip your ass, capturing another small sound in his mouth as he slipped his thigh between your legs. Now that it was out in the open, that you wanted him, he couldn't stop himself.

Unless you told him to.

"So, you like me, too?" you breathed out as he pressed kisses along your neck, your nails digging into his shoulders as he thrust his knee against your wetness.

Gonna lose my fucking mind when I'm inside you.

"So much that I wanted to break Nate's fingers. Or his face," he told you, nipping over your pulse, but careful not to leave a mark. "Want you to forget all about that thing he does with his fucking tongue."

"You up for the challenge?" you teased before he growled.

"Up for it?" he asked as he slid a hand up to your chest, his thumb brushing over your nipple as you whimpered for him. "I'm gonna ruin you. That's a fucking promise."

"Do it. Please," you begged, bringing a hand down to brush your fingers along his thick cock. "Ruin me."

You already looked overwhelmed with pleasure, your eyes half lidded and mouth parted as Bucky moved his knee away and brought one of your legs around his hip. He wanted to fall to his knees and get a taste, but he'd claim you later with his tongue. "Not letting you go if I have you," he warned you, helping you stroke him.

"You better not," you said.

Bucky could've put his fingers under the water, but he brought them to his mouth to wet them before he slipped it between your legs. "You'll be mine," he said as he teased your hole.

"I'm already yours," you gasped as he carefully pushed a finger in and thrust slowly.

"Are you?" he asked, brushing his lips against your jaw as he slid a second finger in. "Fuck, you're tight. You may kill me."

"Yes, I'm yours. And I won't kill you, but I'll make you sorry if you don't fuck me," you huffed impatiently.

He chuckled as he removed his fingers, missing the heat of your body. He understood not wanting to wait any longer. He fucked his own hand enough nights as he thought of you to know that it wasn't enough.

"What if someone walks in?" he questioned, sucking his fingers clean with an obscene groan.

I can convince you to take a day off just to eat you out, right?

"I don't care!" you cried, your voice echoing in the stall as he moved the tip of his cock along your folds. You canted your hips as you tried to take him in and, fuck, if that didn't feed his ego. "If you don't fuck me, I swear I'll- AHH!"

He groaned as he slid home in one thrust, his eyes fluttering shut as your velvety walls gripped him like your life depended on it. He took a deep breath so he didn't lose it on the second thrust. Your perfect pussy was his new home. He never wanted to leave.

"Fuck, baby, you're so needy. I think you want everyone to see that you're mine now," he groaned as he caressed your thigh and drove in deep. Your cunt welcomed each slide as he kept your hips still with his other hand. "Gonna fuck you so hard you won't walk for a week. The way I should've from the start."

"Don't hold back," you moaned, clenching lightly around him. "I can take it."

Bucky couldn't remember ever fucking someone so possessively. "Pussy's even better than I imagined. Made for me. Made for me to wreck."

"Fuck, yes," you cried in response. "Touched myself thinking of you fucking me."

"You fucked your perfect pussy thinking of me?" he asked, imagining your fingers deep inside you. "Moaned my name?"

"Yes," you replied, biting your lip. "Fingers aren't as big as you."

Fuck. There's only so much a man can take.

"Look so beautiful taking my cock. Gonna be so good to you," he grunted, his wet hair falling in front of his eyes. If he had to guess, he probably looked unhinged. Feral. Out of control. "Not letting you go."

Instead of looking afraid, you reached up and lightly threaded your fingers through his hair as your leg shook against his hip. "I won't let you."

He kissed you, almost delirious as the rush of pleasure began to take over. You took his hard, fast thrusts, the symphony of your cries and his moans adding to the sound of wet, slapping skin. Later, he'd make love to you, kiss over every square inch of your beautiful body. He'd tell how crazy he is about you. How you made him happy again.

For now, he needed you to scream his name for the whole gym to hear.

"I'm close, Bucky," you panted into his mouth. "Please."

He doubled his efforts, thrusting so hard he lost his breath with each snap of his hips. "If you're really mine, come. Come for me."

You nearly sobbed his name as you quivered around him, a wave of wetness coating his cock as he kept up his pace and fucked you through your orgasm. "Good girl," he praised as you went limp in his hold.

It was a beautiful sight. Your dazed expression, your cunt clenching with a fresh wave of wetness as you whined. A fucking vision.

"I'm gonna…" he warned, his muscles tensing up as he got closer to the edge.

"Come in me," you begged, tightening around him again. "Please, I need it."

Fuck.

Bucky spilled hot and thick inside you with a guttural moan as he let the ecstasy within him explode, relieved that you didn't make him leave the haven of your body. He was careful not to crush you against the wall as he tried to catch his breath and process that what just happened was real. It wasn't a dream or fantasy. He had you in his arms under the warm water.

Could've had this ages ago if I spoke up.

His lips found yours, his kiss softer than the previous ones. He wasn't sure how long he held you like that, but it was everything he dreamt of and everything he denied himself. He wouldn't do that again.

"You okay? Did I hurt you?"

"No," you smiled, your breathing still a bit tagged. "And I think I can still walk."

He growled playfully as he rolled his hips, thankful that he had the strength to keep holding you up. His stamina was good for some things. "Come to movie night and I'll make sure you don't walk. You did say you needed to get laid."

"I did say that," you smiled, nipping his bottom lip. "I'll do a movie night if you take me out on a real date."

"This weekend since neither of us have plans. I'd be a bad boyfriend if I didn't take care of you, right?" he asked, kissing the corner of your mouth to avoid your surprised gaze.

Pushed my luck this far. I can go a bit further.

"It's a date," you smiled.

Bucky smiled back as he reached over to shut the water off, wishing he could blame the warmth for the blush in his cheeks. "Sorry it took me so long to get my head out of my ass."

"I forgive you," you said, your nose nudging his.

"I just wanted you to have better," he whispered.

You deserve the best.

You blinked away the leftover pleasure that lingered in your eyes. "What? You're already the best guy I know, handsome. No one is better than you," you said, the sincerity in your eyes making his heart twist. "I know you'll be the best boyfriend for me."

Thank you.

"Well, as the best boyfriend, I think I owe you one more orgasm before we go," he smirked, his hands roaming your body. "If you're up for it."

"I'll take whatever you give me," you said before you smirked back. "But maybe I should thank Nate since he's the one who got your head out of your ass."

"Don't you fucking dare," he said, kissing you breathless before you could say his name again.

Bucky was your boyfriend now and the only name he wanted to tumble from your beautiful lips was his own. He'd do whatever he could to make that happen. And be the man you deserve.

Natasha watched from the corner of the gym as you and Bucky emerged from the locker room minutes later. You had stars in your eyes and Bucky looked over the moon. Your legs wobbled slightly and the soldier easily slid an arm around your waist to steady you and walk you out. He even threw Nate a smirk and a wink when he got a glimpse of the two of you.

The redhead messaged the group chat for the bet once the two of you were out of sight. "Locker room. I won."

"What? I was so close!" Steve messaged back.

"Cheater!" Sam sent. "I know you got her ex transferred here. Don't deny it."

"I did not get him transferred. I just knew and didn't tell them he'd be here today. I expect my payment at dinner tonight."

The redhead put her phone away as she tried not to smile. Bucky just needed a push and she wasn't afraid to play a little dirty. But she'd keep her word and split the winnings.

The two of you deserved a nice date, after all.

Oh, Bucky. Whatever will we do with you? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#navybrat writes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan x you #beefy!bucky barnes

[cozymoko]

Hello! can I ask for yandere Muzan from demon slayer with a human s/o thats despises him and fights him at every point. (I hope it's not too strange)

YAN. MUZAN KIBUTSUJI WITH A S/O WHO DESPISES HIM.

Note: Nope, it's all good!

LINKS: KNY Masterlist!

WARNING(S): Yandere themes, toxic/abusive relationships, Muzan's insufferable god complex

You must be a masochist, there's no other plausible motive behind your disobedience. The punishment you must undergo is far too great for it to be a mere choice. Lucky for you, Muzan is more than willing to comply with your “sick” pleasures, though he's well aware of your true intentions.

Don't mistake his infatuation for softness or compassion at that, for this man is far beyond anything of the sort. Humans had been nothing more than a vital food source for him; they were weak and so very fragile. Thus falling for one was frankly not in his best interest. Unlucky Muzan.

It's sick, the way he loves you; it's hardly anything but a living nightmare you had prayed to be awaken from. You were not obligated to love him, yet your true feelings were encouraged to stay hidden. However your loyalty had to be guaranteed. Under his “protection” you were nothing more than a pet he kept by his side, so act the part.

Fighting him? Oh dear, have you lost your mind? This won't end well for you, surely you knew that much. You may have his heart in your clutches, but that doesn't mean he's opposed to roughing you up a bit. You'll heal with due time so why not?

The demon king isn't one to take disrespect from anyone, not even you. You may be near his level, but you are in no way on it. If it were towards the Upper Moons then perhaps he'd find it fairly amusing. You're bound to have some form of malevolence towards them for watching over you in his absence. But that's even better as it leaves MUZAN no real competition (not that he had any).

That evening was much like any other. Another failed escape attempt had troubled your mind with dismay, with desperation. Your arms made a home around you much like a cocoon, in hopes of shielding you from the coldness of your desolate home - The Infinity Castle.

Where you resided was in no way, feasible for the life of a human. Dust had begun to attack the deep lacerations of your skin, leaving nothing more than a bitter pain in its wake Muzan so graciously decided that food was no longer a necessity. However, after the first day, your hunger hadn't appeared to disturb vou too much. You knew he wouldn't let you starve, he didn't have the balls to.

No matter how much you kicked, screamed, or wept; each lashing felt like hell on your body. You swore it was worse than death. For a man who claimed he loved you so effortlessly, this didn't feel like love. You wanted out; to set foot outside this endless pit taking you under. You wanted him dead.

“{Name},” Oh my, it looks like he's returned! On you go, don't hide in this corner for too long. Kno wing you, I'll bet you'll be right back in here in no time! You put this upon yourself so I suggest you take today's punishment like a champ...

And trust me, dear. It will hurt.

#—🍁 #x reader #yandere x darling #yandere imagines #yandere x reader #yandere #yandere scenarios #muzan x reader #muzan headcanons #muzan kibutsuji x reader #yandere muzan #kny headcanons #kny imagines #yandere kimetsu no yaiba #yandere demon x reader #yandere demon slayer #demon slayer imagines #demon slayer headcanons

[definitelynotafurinasimp]

How about an jealous furina, or drunk furina?

Furina being jealous

characters: Furina x gn!reader

warnings: none

a/n: I have returned from my brief trip to get the milk. I'd love to say there were some AO3 author levels of tragic events that made me vanish for a month, but the reality is that I've been playing Persona 3 Reload and now Persona 5 Royal again.... yeah.

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Furina

While Furina loved to pretend she was above the whole “being jealous” thing, you knew better than to trust her with that. She was human after all, and if there was one emotion more human than anything, even compassion and love, it was jealousy.

And yet, her jealousness would surface quite differently from others’, the former Archon suddenly growing very talkative as she began trying to show off, donning a smug while getting into a pose only akin in confidence and pride to the great orators of old before directly or indirectly talking about how great she was. Whether it was to impress you or to make the source of her jealousy back away, you weren’t too sure. What you were sure of however, was that it was a sight to behold. More entertaining than an award winning theater play and pretty endearing.

But while you would have loved to commend her for being able to handle her negative feelings without harming anyone, you had witnessed her dig herself into a metaphorical hole far too often for that to be the truth…

When you had completely halted to a grind during one of your walks, only to stare off into the distance, a wave of confusion washed over Furina, the former Archon quickly following your gaze before her eyes landed on a woman not too far away. For a moment, she wanted to ask you about her, but when the woman spotted you, started waving and approaching the two of you, her voice got stuck in her throat.

What followed was the two of you cheerfully talking to each other, reminiscing of days gone by, leaving Furina no choice but to simply listen...

While she felt confident in saying that she had known you for quite a while now, your chat about your school days made Furina's time with you seem quite insignificant. And yet, when it finally became time for you to introduced the two to each other, describing the other person as “a former upperclassman that helped you through school”, any doubts and hesitations Furina felt seemed to vanish within an instance, her stance as proud and confident as during a speech, as she talked with a wide smug on her face.

“It is an honor meeting you. I’ve actually been a huge admirer of your works”, the other woman said, and judging from the sparkle in her eyes it made no sense to question her in the slightest, and yet, because of her pride as an artist and definitely not for any ulterior reasons whatsoever, Furina still felt the need to make sure all three of you were well aware of how fantastic she was.

“Ha, my deepest apologies. I did not expect to run into a fan today. I should have brought a pen with me, after all this happens quite frequently as well. How careless of me”, she ‘apologized’ in a voice that made it difficult to miss what her true intentions were, and yet, all you could do was smile at her act. Something the director didn’t seem to miss as her smug quickly disappeared into thin air and a faint blush settled on her cheeks. That brief moment of embarrassed silence quickly vanished however, as Furina turned her attention back towards your acquaintance. 

“Well, I’m glad to hear you like them. I’m actually working on my next play, one that will for sure become known as my magnum opus”, she proudly announced with a big smile on her face, closing her eyes for a moment. When she opened them however, both of your expressions could not have been more different. While the woman looked as excited as a small child, your eyes had widened in surprise.

And you had every right to. Her? Writing a new play? Where did that come from?? She hadn’t even started thinking about what it was supposed to be about! Forget “Magnum Opus”, she could count herself lucky if she even managed to finish a draft in the next year.

“Really?? That sounds wonderful! I know I shouldn’t pry and that pinpointing a date should only be done once you feel confident in it, but may I ask when we can expect the premier?”, your friend asked, eyes filled with as much excitement as those of a dog seeing its owner for the first time in a while as her voice threatened to crack any moment. And so, before Furina had the chance to stop herself, her mouth had already begun to talk once again.

“I cannot tell you a date, but considering the script is as good as done, it shouldn’t take longer than a year. If the casting and everything else goes smoothly, at least.” A YEAR?? WHAT WAS SHE SAYING?? “Well, more like nine months.” NINE MON- Furina’s knees suddenly grew weak, threatening to give way and send the rest of her body on a one way trip to the pavement.

Luckily, before Furina had any chance to dig herself an even deeper grave, your friend said her goodbyes before going on her merry way, leaving the two of you in complete silence for a few moments.

“You never mentioned working on anything. Didn’t your last play just release?”, you asked, clearly concerned for her, something only made worse when she began to lean on you to keep herself standing.

Nothing. Not a single noise came out of Furina in response, instead, you were greeted with the sight of small tears threatening to form on the corners of her eyes as she silently grinded her teeth.

“Let’s get you some coffee, I get the feeling you might need it these next few days.”

#furina x y/n #furina x you #furina #furina x reader #genshin impact x reader

[twstowo]

They End Up In a Universe Where The Two Of You Hate Each Other [Twst]

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗SYNOPSIS: The two of you are happily dating and he couldn’t have asked for anything else, however, one day he finds himself in a strange place only to find that here the two of you are enemies.

♡︎ I wrote Azul's part while listening to 9mm, not the proudest moment of my life lmao.

♡︎Includes: Azul and Jamil

[AU Masterlist]

[Riddle and Leona] ☆[Here] ☆[Vil and Idia] ☆[Malleus]

⋆⋅☆Azul

The fate of this Azul had been written. He would continue to sell wishes in exchange for something in return. However, one day, he would cross paths with the wrong person, leading him to be sent back to live in his octopot, never again able to make a name for himself.

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

Azul Ashengrotto had been quite curious about the person that would ruin his life in this universe. Here, he appeared to be the owner of a potion shop, and as a side hustle, he still made contracts. On this particular night, he waited for Jade and Floyd, his associates in this universe, to gather ingredients for a love potion. Azul found the choice of potion rather mundane, considering they were never very durable.

As Azul mixed the ingredients one by one, he heard the door of his shop open. He expected to see Floyd or Jade at this hour of the night, but to his surprise, a mysterious figure in black robes entered. The figure strolled towards him and took a seat. Azul was ready to send whoever it was out of his shop until he saw your face.

"Azul Ashengrotto," you said his name, and he had to hold onto the table to keep from falling out of his seat. Your voice was soft and enticing, almost as if he had been enchanted by one of his potions. Then, to his shock, you pointed a gun at him. "I hate dealing with merfolks like you," you declared, rolling your eyes as you adjusted yourself in the seat, getting comfortable.

In the past, facing dire circumstances, you struck a deal with Azul to secure your impoverished family's safety from the grip of famine and sickness. This decision, fueled by necessity, came at the price of your servitude to Azul, entailing participation in unsavoury tasks that gradually wore down your patience. Now, driven by a growing discontent and a yearning for freedom, you boldly confronted Azul. "What about another contract? I quit working for you, yet my family retains your protection," you proposed with determination, pressing the barrel of a gun against Azul's forehead. "And be warned, any attempt to back out of this deal and I will expose all your nefarious schemes to the world."

He had just never expected it to be you, the wrong person.

⋆⋅☆Jamil

The fate of this Jamil had been written, he was a servant, spending years catering to Kalim, only to eventually poison him. However, his treacherous act would be discovered, leading to his imprisonment for the remainder of his life.

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

Even in this alternate universe, Jamil found himself serving under Kalim. He couldn't help but roll his eyes as he performed the routine task of serving Kalim's dinner for what felt like the millionth time. In this reality, he found Kalim even more annoying, and to make matters worse, you and Kalim seemed inseparable. Jamil observed how the two of you did practically everything together, and he couldn't escape the feeling of your gaze on him, almost as if you were aware of his darker thoughts.

A particular incident lingered in his memory — the moment he had to deliver a drink to Kalim. Before he could do so, you snatched the cup, drinking the liquid and making it clear that you didn't trust him. A shiver ran down Jamil's spine as he witnessed your face contorted in hatred.

"I'm keeping an eye on you, Jamil," you declared with a cold tone. Growing up as a noble, you had experienced betrayal from a servant who had tried to poison you. Seeing Jamil stirred memories of that past betrayal. You could sense his ill intentions, and even his eyes seemed void of any emotion when Kalim presented him with kindness.

"That won't be necessary," he responded with a slight smile. Even though he disliked the fact that he now had to live with you hating him, he couldn't deny the thrill of your cunning ways of uncovering him. How refreshing it was to have someone as clever as himself around.

Your gaze never left his as he left the room slowly. It felt like it didn't matter which universe he landed in, you were always the most interesting thing in it. He just didn’t understand why the version of him from this universe couldn’t have seen that.

#twst #disney twst #twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst reader #disney twisted wonderland #twst x reader #x reader #azul x reader #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #twst azul #jamil viper x reader #jamil viper #twst jamil #twisted wonderland jamil #jamil x reader #twisted wonderland azul

[thebiscuitlabryinth]

[prev]

Nowadays, Pure Vanilla has gotten used to his sleep fluctuating wildly between turbulent dreams and sleep like the void itself has swallowed him whole. It seems like a game of chance whenever he rests his head down, and neither option leaves him any less tired the next morning.

Today, his dreams are absurd, swirling and spilling into each other, and vividly upsetting in a way he can't identify. He shut his eyes tight, but that doesn't block out the rest of his senses. He can hear begging, crying, shouting, and the scent of something burning and wilted lilies clashes in the air, creating a suffocating smell that winds around him slow. It is awful, but it is slightly less so, now that he knows how to recognise when he is in a dream. More importantly, he has a question, and he is more than aware of Shadow Milk's lingering presence.

"You founded the study of Dark Moon Magic, didn't you?"

It is a soft question, but one that is sure of itself. Instantly, the sounds and smells and sensations that had been plaguing Pure Vanilla disappear. Pure Vanilla keeps both his eyes closed for the time being, just in case. Tonight, his staff is absent like a missing leg, and he misses the added security of being able to look through it.

"Oh, come on! Don't interrupt the scene, we were just getting to the good part!" Shadow Milk's voice responds with frustration, the sound coming from all sides. It is precisely because it comes from all sides that Pure Vanilla keeps his eyes closed, not quite trusting that the shards of his nightmares have been fully swept away. He doesn't want to find out what Shadow Milk could possibly consider to be 'the good part' amidst the sounds of suffering and anguish.

Instead, Pure Vanilla sighs. "It was your choice to stop everything when I asked that, wasn't it? You can't blame me for that."

"Bzzt! Wrong! I can blame you because you did interrupt. It doesn't matter what I did in response, a disruption is a disruption." Shadow Milk declares loudly, voice a little rougher, as if he was daring Pure Vanilla to argue back. But his voice is now only coming from one source, right in front of him, so Pure Vanilla cautiously opens his eyes to check the surroundings.

He finds himself in the library of Blueberry Yogurt Academy, and nostalgia eagerly rears its head within him, somewhat surprised. He's stood beside a littered table, surrounded by the deep blue bookshelves of his youth and the comforting smell of aged paper. The details blur a little past that, some of the shelves lighter, more like the bookshelves in his chambers in the Vanilla Kingdom, leaving it less like a perfect replica and more like a collage made out of bits and pieces of his lifetimes' worth of memories, but it is mostly the Blueberry Yogurt library.

Shadow Milk is across the table from him, tutting when Pure Vanilla takes too long to reply. He leans his elbows on the table, propping his chin on the bridge of his linked fingers. "Sneaky, silly-Vanilly, trying to use me to get out of your funny little nightmares. Very, very sneaky."

"It worked, didn't it?" Pure Vanilla says, a bit stiffly, because that had never been his main intention, mostly because Shadow Milk isn't nice enough for him to think it would work. No, his main intention is genuine curiosity, and that is exactly why he continues to prod. "...You didn't answer my question."

"Because it's a stupid one." Shadow Milk hums back, tilting his head to the side. He tilts it far enough that his cheek is now resting against his hands instead of his chin. "You should be able to figure that out yourself. Didn't I already tell you where my home is?"

Pure Vanilla doesn't answer for a moment, laying a tentative hand on the edge of the table as he tries to squint at the papers across its surface in the dim lamplight. It takes him a second to realise that they're all forbidden texts on Dark Moon Magic, and when he does, he murmurs back. "It's better to clarify than assume, isn't it?"

This time, Shadow Milk is the one who doesn't answer for a moment, instead staring at him with those piercing eyes. Pure Vanilla can feel more around him, behind him, lurking in the shadows pooling in the nooks and crevices and he can't help it – he shivers slightly.

That reaction must be enough for Shadow Milk, because he snorts, and pushes off the table to lean back, kicking his feet up onto the table and right on top of texts, which is already enough to make Pure Vanilla wince. Poor library etiquette aside, the movement is horribly uncanny to watch, partly because he is leaning back onto thin air instead of a chair, partly because he moves so quickly it's like his limbs snap into place, and partly because his smile is stretched far too thin as he does so.

"Of course I did. I'm very talented, you know." Shadow Milk announces smugly, his eyes never leaving him. They narrow slightly, all of them in suspicious synchronisation, and he raises his eyebrows expectantly. "But I must admit, I am crumbling to know why you brought it up."

Whys are always difficult to answer, especially for something as difficult as motives, which can morph and change over time. Pure Vanilla hates lying, but he hates lying in front of Shadow Milk even more, because he seems to recognise every single one and Pure Vanilla doesn't want to give him the satisfaction.

But he really can't admit the core of the matter to his face. He can't admit that ever since he glimpsed the ghost of Shadow Milk's past, he hasn't been able to stop thinking about it. He can't admit that he is actively trying to glimpse it again, and what better way to try and draw it out than with any scholar's pride and joy – their work?

"It's impressive. I, myself, have mastered White Magic over the years, and I certainly contributed to its development, but I cannot claim that I created it as a school of magic." Pure Vanilla explains instead, and it isn't a lie either, just lacking all the details. He fidgets a bit, tugging at his own sleeves, adding quieter. "Dark Moon Magic is forbidden too, so there aren't many detailed sources left on it. I want to know more about its founding."

I want to know more about you.

There is another lapse of silence, and Pure Vanilla is tense with tentative hope. After all, if Shadow Milk was really against the topic altogether, he wouldn't have gone through the trouble of plucking him out of his nightmares.

Shadow Milk's smile is sharp like a knife, clashing with the casual way he folds his arms behind his head, almost languid as he finally muses. "Oh, really? That doesn't sound right. I'm sure there's enough details lying around to get the gist of it. After all, you've used Dark Moon Magic before, so you must know something about it already."

Pure Vanilla flinches back, and it isn't a surprise that he knows about that too, not anymore, but it still leaves him with unstable footing. Regardless, he doesn't let that scare him off the topic, which he suspects is exactly why Shadow Milk said it. "...I've only really used it once, and I don't remember much about what happened. So I may know something, but that something is rather little."

It's a confession, and the truth. His brief tangle with Dark Moon Magic is a complete blur in his own mind, watered down to blinding sensations and a heartache so intense he had felt like he was crumbling. Theoretically, he knows enough about Dark Moon Magic to hold a conversation, but he remembers nothing about it in practise.

"You know who could help you with that?" Shadow Milk asks, seemingly unbothered, but the words curl with open mockery and a smirk. He tilts his head back slightly so he can look down on Pure Vanilla and throws his arms out dramatically. "Our beloved, newly coronated Guardian! She has plenty of experience with–"

Pure Vanilla's heart lurches painfully.

"Don't talk about her!" He interrupts, voice bursting out louder than he expected and panic fluttery in his chest. He doesn't want to hear him tear at her old wounds, even if she can't hear it herself. He knows how vulnerable that cry makes him seem though, and he fumbles to lower his voice to something softer, less shaky. "Don't– please, I'm asking you for a reason."

Shadow Milk giggles, a strange grating sound that climbs higher with each breath, until he is laughing in earnest. He curls into himself, arms wrapped around his middle, and the position looks painful with his feet still planted on the table. Pure Vanilla watches him warily, a little shaken by the mention of White Lily, and wonders if maybe, he was wrong about what he thought he saw in Shadow Milk. He has been seeing more things that aren't there, recently.

His laughter stops abruptly. The stillness that follows is jarring, but doesn't last long.

Slowly – so slowly that it is unnerving, for someone who typically moves as erratically as him – Shadow Milk reaches forward with one hand and plucks a scroll up from the table. He unrolls it with a lazy flick of his wrist, the other end tumbling away over the edge of the table and across the floor. It is a smooth movement, Pure Vanilla notes through the pounding of his heart and his scrambled nerves, a practised motion that speaks of thousands of opened scrolls.

Shadow Milk peers over at the contents of the scroll with an empty, disinterested expression, his legs melting through the table until he appears to be sitting somewhat politely again. The sudden switch to this from his near hysterical laughter leaves Pure Vanilla disturbed, unsure if this is progress or not.

"I wanted to strike a balance between Black and White Magic." Shadow Milk says, his voice a disconcertingly low murmur, almost monotone. While his main eyes remain steadily on the scroll, the rest are eagerly burrowing into Pure Vanilla from all sides. "Black Magic draws from the void, making it unpredictable and destructive by nature, but full of potential. White Magic draws from the moon, primarily, and other celestial sources, making it safer and easier to use, but limited in its purity. If I could find the middle ground, I could harness magic with more flexibility and power but less unpredictability."

Shadow Milk pauses then, his eyes sliding up to stare right at Pure Vanilla, and his lips quirk upwards. When he speaks again, his voice gains a little more character but remains mainly flat, like a poorly-delivered theatrical monologue. "The dark side of the moon was the obvious choice for a source of that kind of power, because it's the natural overlap between the moon and the void. Once you figure out a source for magic, it's simple to find a way to draw from it, and to make it simpler, I had access to the knowledge of the Witches at my fingertips. All I had to do was write everything down, and the school of Dark Moon Magic was born. Easy-peasy!"

Shadow Milk throws the scroll to the side with little fanfare, not even sparing a glance at those ancient texts as they land in a heap of old paper on the floor, uncaring of if they damage or rip. And why would he? They both know this is a dream, and even if it wasn't, he had written that scroll himself.

Pure Vanilla would have cared, dream or not, if he wasn't wholly distracted, reduced to only a wide-eyed blink.

Because Shadow Milk may feign a bored face and voice, as if reading off a report or a particularly uninspiring script, but when their gazes meet, his eyes glitter like shooting stars, sparking with pride and passion and something else.

It captivates Pure Vanilla, the very same shine that comes with a breakthrough for every researcher. It is exactly what he had been hoping to see again, but the sight still leaves him feeling unmoored, even if pleasantly. Intruige and hope swirl within him, and he suddenly finds himself desperate to hold onto this ghost of the past, to make it stay longer and help it spill into the present.

"What does it feel like?" The question comes out before Pure Vanilla can think it through, focused on continuing the conversation before Shadow Milk can pick up his showmanship again in full. "Dark Moon Magic, I mean."

Shadow Milk huffs, a playful grin settling on his face again, and a sickening mix of dread and disappointment trickles through Pure Vanilla as he watches him lean over, crushing more texts beneath his palms. For a scary moment, he expects him to make another quip towards his previous use of the magic, or worse, bring up White Lily again.

He doesn't. Shadow Milk kicks his legs up behind him, so that he is laying on his stomach in mid-air, and cheerfully asks, "How about I show you?"

He doesn't wait for Pure Vanilla to process what he said, let alone reply. He reaches out and ensnares Pure Vanilla's hand, the one normally occupied with his staff, and laces their fingers together. Pure Vanilla doesn't reciprocate the hold, surprised, but only tries a small unsuccessful tug in response.

Shadow Milk's grip is an oppressive pressure, tight but not quite painful. He presses their palms together firmly, and Pure Vanilla gasps.

Magic bursts through the contact, rushing through his jam in a dizzying, warm flood. It is thicker, heavier than the magic Pure Vanilla is used to, thrumming and twisting as if it has a mind of its own, almost scratching at his dough as if trying to consume him, and he can't even concentrate on it because– because–

He can see everything.

Pure Vanilla really, truly can. He can see Shadow Milk's curling smile in front of him, he can see the Faeries having a feast, he can see Black Raisin greeting the moon from one of the Vanilla Castle's towers, he can see Dark Cacao striding through the citadel, he can see White Lily going through her morning routine, he can see his own sleeping body, and places and Cookies he doesn't have the presence of mind to recognise, all simultaneously. He doesn't know what to focus on, doesn't even know how to focus on anything, and his head hurts like it is falling apart.

This is how Shadow Milk has been watching me, he thinks deliriously, the only thought he can manage as he drowns in his sights.

And then, in a snap, he is back in the library with only one scene to see. His vision swims a little at the edges as if it didn't get the message, and he wobbles in place.

Shadow Milk is still holding his hand, but the grip is slightly looser, and the stream of his Dark Moon Magic is gone like a whisper. His grin is sinister and too big for his face, but his eyes still burn like stars.

"Fun, isn't it?" Shadow Milk coos, giddy like it is a shared secret, lifting Pure Vanilla's trembling hand and brushing a kiss to the back that buzzes with Dark Moon Magic. "My very first masterpiece."

Pure Vanilla wakes up disoriented, with a ringing headache and an itch in the back of his hand. White Lily notices his poor state almost immediately when she sees him – wonderful as she is – and she asks if he had a nightmare with that gentle, concerned slope to her brows.

Pure Vanilla adjusts his grip on his staff, leaning against it more than usual.

"No." He assures her lightly, not quite the truth and not quite a lie.

[next]

#oops this was longer than i expected #i mainly just wanted an excuse to wax lyrical about possible interpretations of their magic systems <3 #sm is having the time of his life btw. pv? not so much #writing this is like a tightrope act between pv's idealistic hopes and sm-related psychological disturbance #pure vanilla cookie #shadow milk cookie #shadowvanilla #vanilla milkshake #pureshadow #echo paradox au #the biscuit library

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not feeding my mom's dog by hand?

My (F23) mom (F55) has a dog named Lacey who is a 4 year old chihuahua/papillon mix. My mom has turned Lacey into a spoiled purse dog. Lacey refuses to walk on grass, or even leave the house if the temperature is below 68 degrees (20 celsius). In fact Lacey refuses to walk at all most days, and will scratch your leg and whine until you pick her up and carry her. If you're sitting down she'll do the same thing because she wants to be in your lap. If you ignore her she'll yip constantly and shiver until you give in and hold her. She also won't eat any brand of dog food, so my mom cooks for her twice a day. She gets 1/2 cup of ground turkey for breakfast, and 1/2 cup of unseasoned chicken and plain rice for dinner. She also rarely gets stuff like carrots or blueberries as treats.

A couple months ago my mom drove across the country to visit family, and left Lacey with me. She was only supposed to be gone a week, but ended up staying much longer due to a family emergency. She left Lacey with me and gave me very strict instructions on how to feed her (what time, it has to be cooked and unseasoned, you can't cook it all at once and then reheat it it has to be fresh or she won't like it, etc) but she also included something I didn't know about Lacey's routine: the dog won't eat out of a bowl or off a plate, you have to hand feed her. I told my mom that's ridiculous and I'm not doing that. She insisted, because Lacey just plain will not eat any other way. Eventually I told her fine.

I'm not gonna lie: I had no intention of hand feeding Lacey, and just told my mom I would to get her off my back. And Lacey did refuse to eat for the first couple of days, but eventually she would nibble on her food. I came to realize attention was a much more important currency to Lacey than food. If I was even in the same room as her she wouldn't eat, because there was still a chance I might hand feed and dote on her. If I set the food down, then left and closed the door though? Lacey DEVOURED her food in less than a minute. Every time. Even if it was reheated. It made me think maybe she wasn't as picky about her choice of food as my mom says, so I bought some wet dog food and guess what? She gobbled that too. Still wouldn't touch dry kibble though, but hey. Baby steps.

Same thing for letting her outside. If I went out with her she would refuse to even leave the porch, but if I put her out in the (fenced in!) yard and went back in (while still watching her on security cameras and never leaving her alone for longer than a few minutes)? She would go potty and then happily run and roll around in the grass, even if it were chilly out. Even if she wasn't wearing her little coat and booties my mom insisted she needed.

My mom got back and I was kinda smug when telling her these things, I'll admit. But I honestly expected her to be relieved her dog wasn't as high maintenance as she had previously thought. Instead she got mad at me and said I shouldn't have gone back on my word. And that she would never trust Lacey with me again since I admitted to neglecting her. That Lacey had clearly lost weight with me and that was proof I was starving her (it's true she lost weight, but she was a roly poly to begin with and still kinda is, just less so).

Should I have just caved to my mom's ridiculous demands regarding her dog, or maybe I'm wrong to call them ridiculous at all? AITA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[gabrielsbubblegumbitch]

Please, elaborate more on these Hazbin Hotel headcanons. I’m very interested in hearing about them.

I would like to preface all my posts on headcanons related to psychology and mental illness with a disclaimer: diagnosing mental conditions, especially personality disorders, can be extremely challenging. It's a complicated process that relies heavily on a psychologist's interpretation of facts, making it susceptible to biases. Personality disorders cannot be diagnosed based on surface-level observations and are not just labels that we can assign to people like in the case of MBTI. Additionally, I am not a clinician with any expertise in diagnosing people. Therefore, the following post should not be taken as a reliable professional opinion. It's simply my interpretation of the internal mechanisms that may be responsible for the behavior of certain characters in my fan fiction. Furthermore, I want to make it clear that I have no intention of stigmatizing people with personality disorders by associating them with villains. A personality disorder does not determine someone's character or make them a bad person. Some characters may be evil because of the choices they make, not as a result of their mental conditions.

Since you didn't ask about anything specific, I'll just give some headcanons on Vs since I think about them the most.

> Vs are not a polycule, it's VoxVal + Velvette because she would never touch any of these losers. What's more, Vox and Val are extremely sexist (I mean it's kinda canon, we heard how they speak about women) so if she had sex with any (or both) of them, she would no longer be one of the boys and become one of the bitches.

> Vox has NPD, Val has BPD, Vel has APD.

> Vox is continuously overstimulated because he's constantly connected to his web. That's why snaps so easily and sometimes goes through 5 stages of grief in 5 seconds. He could disconnect (and sometimes he does) but he's too much of a control freak to not lurk constantly.

> During his life on earth, Valentino had a terrible, toxic father. Very much machismo who abused him relentlessly for being queer. (Not that I want to make him sympathetic, I just think that evil people are often miserable before they become evil.) Because Val is very queer, not just "man occasionally fucking other men", he's always been loud and proud pansexual and gender non-conforming. He wasn't some kind of activist, very concerned about queer issues, he just refused to stay in the closet out of spite, and because it made men around him uncomfortable. He just enjoyed being perceived as a deviant. It was one of the things that eventually got him killed.

> Vox is like a hardcore sadist. He cuts people open just to feel powerful.

> During his life on Earth, Vox used to be extremely homophobic because his bisexuality was threatening to his masculinity. He's also the embodiment of toxic white masculinity from the 50's. He actually did some personal growth in Hell, eg. He gave up racism, homophobia, transphobia, and most other -phobias, and now he despites everyone rather equally. He just bullies women more because misogynistic violence is a low-hanging fruit.

> So with Velvette I had some fun because she manifested in Hell not so long ago and happened to be as powerful as other Vs, who had much more experience and souls collected. So I assumed she must be completely deranged. I came up with the idea that she used to be a toxic influencer who built a cult-like following around her. She weaponized it against multiple people, ruining lives, and manipulating kids into committing crimes or even suicides. Her methods are very fine, Vox and Val have nothing on her when it comes to cruelty.

> Velvette is not misogynistic per se but she despises weak women who can't fight for themselves. That's why other Vs behavior don't bother her, she doesn't feel threatened by their aggression.

> Angel Dust has BPD and an eating disorder. That's why he fell for Valentino so terribly, to trust him with his soul. He used to think that Valentino is the only person fucked up enough to truly love him as damaged as he'd been. (More hc about Val and Angel here). Actually Val has a very similar backstory to him - a queer, gender non-conforming man in a very masculine environment (I'm not sure how canonic is Angel working for the Italian Mafia at this point but I stick to it until proven otherwise).

Other headcanos about Vox and Val ❤️🩵

#hazbin hotel #valentino #vox #Velvette #VoxVal #angel dust #Huskerdust #headcanon #ask #vox hazbin hotel #valentino hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel velvette

[slight-gaming-addict]

happy birthday, prefect!

masterlist

imagines based on some of the birthday voicelines from the characters

characters: azul ashengrotto, idia shroud, malleus draconia

𝑨𝒛𝒖𝒍 𝑨𝒔𝒉𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒕𝒐

happy birthday! as a special, one-time offer, i'll grant you one wish. i expect nothing in return i assure you. this is an investment in the future you.

you knew better than to blindly trust azul with just about anything. you learned this on your very first meeting with him when he tended to word his sentences extremely carefully.

you weren't deaf to all the things the other students would say about azul, as well as the students always by his side, jade and floyd. you heard about what they would do, the contracts they would trap people in and evidently turn their own words against them.

however, along with all the warnings to stay away from him, you somehow developed a bond with him.

one night you found yourself sitting in the mostro lounge, deep in concentration with school work. you lost track of time and didn't realize it was so late until azul walked up to you, noting that the lounge would be closing soon.

somehow it ended with him sitting down next to you and you both talking late into the night. ever since then anytime you had work or just some free time to relax, you would find yourself back in the lounge, with azul right next to you.

sometimes it would be you both sitting in silence doing any work you had, and other times you both would just sit talking about the most random things. it was really easy to engage in conversations with him, but you kept the warnings of the other students in the back of your mind.

that's why when your birthday came around and he said that he would grant you a wish of your choice, you couldn't help but feel skeptical.

he realized your hesitance and feigned offense that you wouldn't blindly trust him. as soon as you gave him the "really?" look, he dropped the act and let out a laugh.

he admired your resistance, even after all the time of you guys spending with each other. he had to assure you that he didn't mean any malicious intents.

"i expect nothing in return i assure you. this is an investment for the future you." after a lot more convincing on his part, he was able to finally convince you to tell him your wish.

he actually kept his word, and didn't ask for anything in return, even with you waiting for him to do so. this made the relationship between the two of you stronger, however, you wouldn't let down your guard with him completely in the future, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

𝑰𝒅𝒊𝒂 𝑺𝒉𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒅

you're happy that people are celebrating your birthday? *sigh* what a complete cinnamon roll reaction. sarcasm just goes over your head, huh? what? you want me to come to your birthday party? uh, i think i've already celebrated enough- whoa, hey! don't pull on me like that!

you used to hate your birthday, a day where you had to spend your time around the people who you couldn't care less about, and who didn't care about your wellbeing and just wanted to party.

that all changed when you got to night raven college, and met all the people there. you got to make a genuine connection with the people there, something you haven't had with other people before, and that made you happy whenever your birthday rolled around.

you were reserved at first, not knowing what people's intentions were, but you were able to make a connection with a tight knit group if people. somehow idia shroud was one of those people.

you, along with everyone else, were shocked when you were able to build a connection with the introvert. at first it seemed as though he didn't want anything to do with you, but when you casually mentioned something about this new video game you wanted to try, he was quick to perk up and immediately joined the conversation.

ever since then, he didn't really start conversations, he would on occasion mutter a "hello" to you when you walked by or get engrossed into a conversation with you at the mention of the most recent game or manga he's obsessed with as of late.

to say that you were actually excited when your birthday rolled around was an understatement. you were ecstatic to be able to finally be able to celebrate with people you care about.

you woke up that morning with your friends running into your room, enthusiasm radiating off of them as they handed gifts to you one by one. you couldn't stop grinning, opening each of the gifts as the people who gave them to you stood next to you, giddy about your reaction to them.

you adored everything you got, and was able to look forward to the rest of your day when your friends said that they were going to throw you a party that night.

you practically skipped around the campus all day, and when it came to a late lunch with idia, you almost made the poor man fall out of his seat when you jumped in the seat in front of him, whipping his head up from his tablet he was engrossed in.

two minutes into you gushing over you having the best birthday and friends ever, you blatantly ignore his neutral, unresponsive reaction as you spoke.

"wow you must be happy that people are celebrating your birthday." idia mutters his first sentence since you sat down and you didn't think anything of it and just nodded enthusiastically.

idia mumbles something else about sarcasm, but you're too busy explaining your soon to be birthday party to him. you excitingly pull out an invitation that you created as soon as you heard the news about the party and slid it over to where idia sat.

"what? you want me to come to your birthday party?" idia looked frightened at the realization that there would in fact be a lot of students at the party and it would be the very last place that he would want to be.

"uh, i think i've already celebrated enough- whoa!" he didn't get a chance to finish his sentence before you were dragging him up from his seat and out of the room in order to get him ready for the party that night. you knew that he was going to complain about it, he didn't stop but you wanted all of your friends there with you that day, and you weren't going to have anything get in the way. you were determined to make him have a good time.

𝑴𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒖𝒔 𝑫𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒊𝒂

i shall bestow a blessing upon you for your birthday. i discovered a rather nice gargoyle recently. it's perfectly weathered and quite tasteful. i knew you'd like it the moment i saw it. come, let's go view it, are you ready?

you weren't always as interested in gargoyles as you were now. before you've never really given them much of a thought, walking by them or seeing them from afar. it all changed when you met malleus.

as soon as you met you were roped in to his personality. he spoke of everything with delight, and nothing changed when he started speaking about his love for gargoyles.

you didn't really see the appeal that he saw at first, so you asked him, and he couldn't have looked more giddy in that moment.

he spoke with a sparkle in his eye about the different types of gargoyles, and what they mean to him and you couldn't help but smile along with him.

he was happy to explain everything about them to you, and you eventually came to love them as he did. you could see the way he loved gargoyles and it made him happy the way you wanted to learn more about them.

he'd always get weird looks from students whenever he would rave about gargoyles and how interesting he finds them. but the looks didn't last long before he gave the students a questioning look and they ended up scurrying away as fast as possible.

your relationship flourished after you spoke that you wanted to learn more about gargoyles and you'd find yourself up late waiting for him to come around to talk more, or simply just read more about them.

there were nights where you both sat in silence reading old books that he would bring, containing all kinds of information on gargoyles, from where they originate from to what each of them mean.

it slowly came to be your birthday, and malleus couldn't think of a more perfect gift than to show you the new gargoyle he discovered while wandering the school grounds.

you know he didn't really understand the concept of celebrating birthdays, due to how old he is, and how many he's had in his lifetime, but you felt touched when he explained how he found a gargoyle that he wanted to show you for your birthday, knowing he worked in order to try and make it special for you.

"i knew you'd like it the moment i saw it. come, let's go view it, are you ready?" you ended your birthday with a perfect gift, spending the rest of the night viewing the new gargoyle and talking aimlessly amongst yourselves. you couldn't ask for a better way to spend your birthday.

buy me a coffee ♡

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst azul #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul ashengrotto #azul x reader #twst x reader #disney twst #twst idia #idia shroud #idia x reader #idia shroud x reader #twst malleus #twst housewardens #malleus draconia #malleus draconia x reader #malleus x reader

[hidedino]

i've just rewatched that conversation fit had with ramón when he'd first admitted to liking pac and somehow ramón's words hit even harder after pac has asked for his blessing.

because at that time ramón wasn't that familiar with pac. sure they'd interacted before and ramón had been made aware of the date before the eggs' disappearance, but i don't recall them ever having a 1 on 1 conversation or bonding experience prior to the conversation with fit.

despite that, ramón had fully trusted fit's judgement of pac's personality and decided that he wanted pac to be the one to make fit's future brighter. he'd told fit that he wanted pac to be there for him in case ramón couldn't. all that because he knows his dad well and has observed how long it takes him to start trusting somebody. because he knows fit has been a loner all his life and could easily fall into that habit again if ramón were to disappear for good and fit had given up his chance with pac.

so when ramón was listing out those conditions for giving pac a blessing, it wasn't because he didn't fully trust pac or had any intentions to protest their relationship progress if he didn't like the answers. ramón had already decided that he'll trust whoever fit does because he knows how cautious fit is about other people.

i think he gave pac those conditions more so to reassure him that he trusts his intentions and knows pac is the right choice for fit. if he were to only give his blessings without asking for anything, it would've been less significant as pac didn't know how much ramón already trusts him and needed to provide him a proof of that himself.

ramón is just so precious for unconditionally trusting everything fit does just like fit trusts him.

#it's 1 am rambles kind of time #i've grown to like ramón so much and i need everyone to do the same #also these two moments are to be put on a shelf next to each other in a fitpac museum #they're perfectly tied to one another #qsmp hideduo #hideduo #fitpac #dino.thoughts #qsmp ramon

[seresinhangmanjake]

And, Honey, I’ll Make It All Okay

Dad!Jake “Hangman” Seresin x female reader

Summary: Jake might be getting used to his mother being around you and his baby girl, but he still had zero interest in allowing his father within a hundred miles of his family. Sometimes, though, things happen that aren’t in his control, despite how desperately he needs them to be. 

Warnings: Alcohol, hints of alcoholism and past abuse (not physical), cursing. Protective Seresins working together like the damn power rangers. 

Notes: Suggested by an anon / Part of the Oh, Baby Universe. A follow up to It’s What You Make It

Words: 4060

------

“So, this little one is a Seresin, huh?”

Jake looked up from the book in his lap—the one he’d bought when he realized he was two whole months behind you in parenting knowledge and felt a desperation to catch up quickly before he ruined his daughter's childhood. He set it aside, meeting his mother's raised brow. 

“I was told you legally changed her name,” she continued as she bounced Eve on her lap, gentle jolts up and down making the girl giggle.

The memory of his birthday present that held within it so many promises of the future you’d share was still strong. He thought of it every morning, loving how it entered his mind like clockwork the second he looked down at your sleeping face beside him. You were in it with him for the long haul—you and Eve—and you’d made it so wonderfully known in a way that could not be outdone. 

Jake smiled, not just at the reminder of your gift, but for many reasons. For the happiness on his daughter’s face as she sat with her grandmother, for the ease with which you and his mother got along, for the way she proved to so seamlessly blend into his family over the last four days. He smiled because he had every right to. Just as he had every right not to tell her about his daughter’s change of name. 

Despite obviously gaining your trust, she had yet to fully gain his. He wanted to let that door stay open, but she’d be back in Texas within a day, and there was no guarantee she could keep his secrets upon her return home. And if his father knew the choice made over Eve’s name, he wouldn’t be able to keep himself away. 

That was the last thing Jake needed. The last thing you needed. 

“Yea,” he said, swallowing, sitting up a bit straighter in the leather armchair. “We did.”

“Anyone else’s name you plan to change soon?”

Jake hesitated. He hadn’t planned to tell his parents. Not about any of it. Not where or how or when he chose to propose. Not about the ring he had made months ago. Not about his wedding, his marriage. Not anything about the details of his life after the bridge they’d set aflame. And he still wasn’t sure his mother had earned the knowledge, but Jake couldn’t deny how obvious he made his intentions without so much as uttering a single word about it. He wanted you, forever, and not a soul with two eyes would think otherwise. 

“Um—I’m working on it.”

“Do you have a ring?”

“I do.”

“Good.” His mother gave a firm nod. “She’s perfect for you.”

That was an understatement, he thought. It was not enough. Perfect for him, truly, but somehow more, too.

Shaking his head, he said, “She’s everything. She and my baby girl are absolutely everything.”

His mother was silent. Her wide grin traveled from her son to the girl in her arms when a tiny hand reached high to touch her cheek. 

“Sweet girl,” she sighed, taking the little hand in hers. 

Eve was the first to accept his mother. 

From the moment their eyes connected a bond was formed that Jake could never fairly break, whether he eventually learned to give his complete trust to his mother or not. Though Eve was so young, there was no doubt in Jake’s mind that she would feel the absence of his mother if they were no longer in one another’s lives. But maintaining that relationship would come with conditions—requirements—mostly along the lines of keeping his father away from you and Eve at all times, in every way possible.

Of course, there was an additional possibility; one his Gram had suggested despite it going against the will of her own son. And you hadn’t argued it, instead leaving the choice to him. A choice that once offered, he really couldn’t go back on. But it was also an opportunity that if taken would actually mean something—a massive leap in the right direction. 

Jake leaned forward in the chair, resting his elbows on the tips of his knees and clasping his hands. They wrung slowly, nerves exposed through the subtle act. 

“Mom,” he began. He sucked his bottom lip between his teeth and nibbled lightly on the chapped skin. She took her eyes off the girl. He released his lip. “You should stay,” he finally said.

There was a brief flash across her irises. She was just as surprised at hearing his suggestion as he was when deciding to speak it. Her lips quirked a tad, but a moment later they fell back into their natural line, the slight downturned shape making the pinch between her brows seem all the more disheartening.

“Sweetheart…” She sighed again before hugging her granddaughter closer. 

“Let me help you. I can find you a place close by,” he said, finding himself rushing his words from a sudden need to convince her. “You and Dad separated once. You can—”

“Jake, stop.” She stood fast, sharply, impressively without stirring Eve, and closed the few steps between her spot on the couch and Jake’s chair. Carefully handing the infant over, she said, “I think I’ll find your Gram and take her to lunch.”

Her voice was meek on that last bit, too much like her approach with him days before when she showed up out of nowhere begging to be a part of his life. She smoothed the nonexistent wrinkles of her skirt and turned on her heel.

“Just think about it,” Jake said to her back, and from her stuttered step he knew she heard him. “Alright?”

She said nothing. And walked on.

—

You’d been itching to get him alone all day. Jake saw it in your consistent stare that wandered from his grandmother to him whenever he was in range of his mother. But his Gram had occupied your time—his mother Eve’s—and he wasn’t able to give you the chance to drag him away like you had so clearly wanted. In your shared room, though, nothing kept the two of you apart. And while Jake had plans—plans that would definitely require him holding his hand over your mouth from your inability to keep quiet (which, without his mother and grandmother in his house, he would’ve loved)---you had other ideas. 

“Did you ask?”

His brow arched at the childlike curiosity you were trying to contain; at how you were a fraction away from bouncing on your toes in anticipation for the answer. Not with excitement, but with an anxious intensity that seeped through the innocence of your question. He nodded. “She didn’t give me an answer.”

And in that same childlike theme, your face fell into a pout. You sighed and plopped down on the mattress, the nightie that barely covered your mid-thighs rising higher. Jake’s fingers twitched to slide along the smooth expanse of skin, but you sighed again and your hands slapped down on those thighs in some odd form of defeat that Jake didn’t understand, and he couldn’t help but notice the distress on your face. 

His mind switched within an instant. Your worry his worry. And he crouched in front of you, taking one of your hands in his. 

“Honey, what’s wrong?”

You shook your head but he didn’t buy it.

“You really want her to stay?” He examined your face. The frown, the pinched brows, the bitten lip. It was not a look he ever cared to see. “Why so badly?”

You rose quickly, unintentionally knocking him off kilter. You reached a hand out to help steady him, which he took and refused to release even as you tried to begin your pacing. It was only one step that you took before Jake twisted you, wrapping you in his arms to calm you down. 

“Honey…”

You were staring up at him, waiting; for what, he didn’t know, but he waited just the same. Until you were ready.

“Jake, with Eve I felt so alone. I had her and I loved her so much—so much—but my mother wasn’t easy on me. Living with her wasn’t what I wanted. I wanted to be with you. I wanted my family to be with you. And I just…” You took a breath, looking away from him. His knuckle under your chin made gazes lock again. “I see that in your mother,” you continued. “She’s told me about your dad, and I thought if she had the choice she would stay here, with us…with Eve.”

The tenseness in his shoulders from your distress loosened a tad. “It was your idea? I thought—”

You shrugged. “Your Gram knows your mother better than I do. I figured if she was the one to mention the idea then you’d be more likely to consider it.”

He couldn’t find his words. Jake's heartbeat sped at a pace he instantly recognized. The pace he'd felt when he first saw you behind the bar at the Hard Deck. The same pace when you walked into Rooster's house with Eve. The pace that told him he was in love with you, then and now. 

He pulled you closer, and with a hand sliding behind your neck, he kissed you. You squeaked into the unexpectedness before settling into it, letting your fingers curl into the fabric of his t-shirt at his waist. Jake was thorough, savoring. Your lips sweet against his, tongue lightly teasing, hand weaving into your hair the way he knew you liked. He wanted to give you everything in that kiss. Because in you was that “more” he wasn’t quite able to explain. Perfect for him…but somehow more. It was the part of you that other people didn’t have. The part that took on responsibilities that weren't yours, and tried to protect people that hadn’t done the same for you. A kindness that was so fucking rare. So unbelievable.

You broke the kiss well before he was ready, a question on your face.

“I love you," he said, cupping your jaw, thumbs stroking your cheeks. He shook his head, like he always did when he paused for a moment to take in his life. Never would he have imagined the luck that had washed over him. The luck to have found you, to have you want him as much as he did you, to share a daughter with you. Jake wasn’t known for picturing much of a future with any woman until he saw you, and the very idea of not having met was a tight knot in his chest. It was impossible now. No one could go back in time and change the course set, but even the thought of what might not have been was too much for him to take. "You are so—"

A knock on a door silenced him. 

Jake counted three seconds and the sound repeated. He hadn’t misheard.

His hands fell away from your face as both your heads whipped to the bedroom door. 

His daughter was asleep—that was his first concern. His baby girl was trying to get her rest and that booming through the walls of the house might've been enough to wake her. 

Then he recalled the hour. 

"Who in the—"

"Stay here," Jake ordered as he stepped toward the door, a hand extended behind him, palm up and facing you to try to stop what he knew was coming. 

"No way." You were already tying the strings of your silk robe at your waist.

He sighed, looking back. "Honey—"

"No."

It boomed again. 

Jake winced, waiting for the high-pitched wails from down the hall. They didn't come so he left the room and began down the stairs with you at his heels. 

"Will you at least stay in the kitchen?"

"No, Jake."

"Jesus, woman,” he huffed. The hall?"

He could feel your glare at the back of his head. "...Fine."

"Thank you."

That created at least twenty paces between you and whatever was on the other side of that door. He wouldn't be able to get you any farther away, so that would have to do. 

The noise grew louder with each bang—a beast trying to break through the door as Jake walked closer and wrapped his fingers around the knob. A piece of him screamed to turn back, pretend it wasn't there until it went away, but the territorial part in him said this was his house, his woman, his baby, his family, and he wasn’t going to be hiding in his own home. 

He eased it open just the slightest. But even that was too much. 

His father shoved his way into the house in such a flash of movement that there wasn’t time to react. Jake stumbled, his back hitting hard against the wall. He grunted and looked up. His father stood still, chest rising and falling heavily under a tailored, buttoned jacket while his eyes scanned over the length of you. 

Jake didn't have a second to take in the shock of his father's presence. He shifted into defense. "Don't you dare look at her," he growled.

His father gestured lazily in your direction before meeting Jake's murderous stare. "Your whore, I'm guessing?" 

The hitch of your breath practically echoed, the soft whisper somehow strong enough to bounce off the walls. 

Jake instantly felt the shame of it; of failing to keep the secret of his father's disgusting opinions from revealing. And that sound that left your throat cracked his heart right down the middle. 

His father tsked. "So transparent."

Jake stepped forward and slammed his hand into the older man's shoulder, forcing his stance away from you and towards him. "Get the fuck out of my house."

"Nope," he chuckled, or something mildly akin. It was sloppy, jumbled together. An odd sound barely recognizable as a laugh. 

And then Jake could see it. He could hear it. Could practically feel it. "You've been drinking," he said.

"Airlines are generous for men like me; you know that. Now, I'm here for your mother." He cupped his hands around his mouth. Took a deep breath. "Eliza!"

"Jake…" 

Your voice quivered, drawing Jake's eye. Eve began sobbing upstairs from the incessant screams of his mother's name. Panic coursed through his veins at a rapid rate.

"Honey, go to Eve."

"But—"

"Please," he begged, but you hesitated. "Honey, please."

You'd barely made a move before his mother was walking into the room, her granddaughter tucked in her arms and mother-in-law following behind. His mother's face didn't alter at the sight 

of her husband.

"Here," she said, handing you a hiccupping, wet-faced Eve. "She needs her mother." 

She made her way down the hall and smiled sadly when she reached Jake. Her hand rested on his bicep and she lightly squeezed. "And they need you." She nudged her head in your direction.

"Mom—"

"Go to your family. This is not your responsibility."

Jake glanced at his father; at the smug look on his face ever so slightly veiled by an alcohol-induced haze. 

Looking back at his mother, he said, "It's not yours, either."

"We're leaving, Eliza." 

His father was growing impatient, and his mother continued on as though she wasn't concerned with the ticking time bomb just feet away from her. She was, as usual, handling him the way she did best. Calmly. Cleverly. A true professional in an art no one would ever have ambitions to hone. 

She nudged Jake over until he relented and did as she asked. "John," she sighed, turning to him, "you do not want to be arrested in a different state. You'll be fired within the week."

"You're not calling the police."

"Jake will," she replied. "He won't give it a second thought. You're scaring his family."

"His family." Jake's father scoffed, crossing his arms. "An insignificant woman and a child that isn't his."

Your eyes snapped up to Jake's and he hugged you tighter, Eve nestled between your bodies. He knew he'd have to explain it all because you'd undoubtedly demand it of him. And he owed you that, at the very least. Even though the very thought of speaking it aloud stirred his stomach and made him wish there was something, anything, he could sacrifice in return for not having to tell you. He’d willingly snap one of his own bones if it meant he didn’t have to see your face twist in pain and anger and shame, but it was too late for that. 

"She's his, John," his mother insisted. "And you need to go."

"Then get your things."

"I'm staying."

"The hell you are!"

It was then that Gram shot herself out from the sideline, a short ball of fiery fury, hands clenched at her sides. "Enough!"

Jake’s father squinted as if there were a true flame assaulting his vision, but when his altered brain caught up with him, his eyes widened, his head jerked back, he stared at his own mother like he was seeing her for the very first time. As he was, Jake understood then. His father hadn’t sensed her there amidst the scene he was making. 

Jake didn’t know how his father came to learn of where his wife had gone, but he clearly hadn’t expected the same betrayal from the woman who raised him. And such an older man—a man who had always embodied power and force, determination and demand—was just barely restraining himself from shrinking where he stood. 

“I tried so hard,” Gram said, practically shaking, from anger or angst Jake couldn’t say, “to keep you from being like this. I didn’t want you to be like him. I tried so hard and I failed so greatly, and I don’t know how, because I put everything I had into it,” Tears were streaming down her cheeks, one of them dropping onto the hardwood floor. She sniffled. “Jake is not like you, or the men who came before you. And thank god he has always been strong enough to keep you from ruining that.” You buried your face into Jake’s neck as she spoke. “He’s a protector; He does his job. And I will do mine. So you aren’t taking anyone home, I am taking you home.”

Shock fell across her son’s face too quickly to have the chance to be concealed. His lips parted, then they curved to form words. “You don’t—”

“Jake, dear,” his Gram started, head turned to the side to help carry her voice over her shoulder, “Would you call us a car? Surely there is still one available at this hour.”

You took a sudden step forward and Jake instinctually wrapped his fingers around your arm to keep you and his daughter close. “Eve, we aren’t going to let you sit in an airport until you find a flight back to Texas,” you said.

“Eliza I and were leaving first thing in the morning anyway. We will take her ticket. She will stay. We will go.”

“I’m not going anywhere!” Jake’s father snapped. He hadn’t bothered to notice his wife making her way closer to their son. He hadn’t so much as glanced at his new granddaughter. Jake wasn’t surprised. His father rarely paid attention to anything. Giving something attention meant acknowledging it was real which meant deciding whether or not to care. He didn’t care. He never did. And it had been decades since much attention had been paid to anything other than himself and the control he refused to relinquish. 

“Then Jake can call the cops instead,” Gram stated. The tears were gone, dried in lengthy lines down her face, but her tone conveyed her heartbreak. “As your mother, that is not what I would prefer, but one way or another you are leaving this house. Tonight.” She inhaled, expelling the heaviest of sighs through her nose. “So, what is it going to be, son?”

—

He watched you from the doorway as you leaned over your daughter’s crib, brushing her wispy hairs out of her face before running your finger softly along the plush cheek. You hadn’t said a word when his Gram and father left. You let him kiss your temple and the top of his baby girl’s head, then you were slipping from his arms to put your child back to sleep as if the night were any other. 

Jake felt lost in the mess—everything he didn’t want you to witness accompanied by the man he never wanted you to meet. The man he came from that he was terrified would make you question just who the father of your daughter might be capable of one day becoming. It would kill him…losing you. Like pliers yanking out chunks of his heart bit by bit until he was left with nothing.

You finally straightened your spine and Jake stepped up behind you, curling his arms around your waist and pulling your back flush against his chest. Need your touch, he thought. As much of your body against his as could be managed. Your hand settled on his forearm when he began to press slow, gentle kisses from your jaw to your neck to your shoulder. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered between each meeting of lips and skin. “I’m so sorry.”

Leaning your head back into his shoulder, eyelids closing, you said, “It wasn’t your fault.”

“He came into our home. Insulted you. Scared our daughter.” His hold on you tightened. He inhaled you. “I swore to myself I wouldn’t let anything like that happen.”

Your eyes opened and your head lifted and you met his close gaze. “Baby, we’re alright,” you swore. “We’re safe.” 

He wanted to shake his head. 

“Look at her,” you said, shifting your line of vision to the baby girl in her crib. “She’s safe. She’s perfect.”

“And you?”

Lightly chuckling, you said, “Intact, if you can’t tell.”

Any other day, he would’ve laughed with you. He would have smiled. He would’ve kissed you and taken your teasing for unintentionally getting carried away. He would’ve led you back to your shared bedroom and you’d have fallen atop the mattress and continued kissing and stripping clothes, and you’d get lost in enjoying one another as you so often easily did.

But this wasn’t any other day. 

“I’m not like him,” Jake whispered. “I won’t ever be.”

Despite his hold on you, you spun harshly in his arms. Your brow furrowed. Anger? Confusion? He guessed both. “No, you won’t,” you stressed. “That goes without saying, Jake.”  

When he didn't respond, your hands cupped his cheeks. “Jake, I know you better than anyone. Had that man not shared your eyes, I would never have believed you came from him. Do you understand me?"  

Your soft palms, warm and gentle, and your sweet words, nice and thick like a coating of honey over his body, completely threw him off the edge of the cliff he’d been teetering on all night. His nose stung. His eyes felt pressure under the threat of tears. So many tears were shed in his home in such a short period of time. A new one escaped and your face shattered. 

“Oh, baby,” you cooed, swiping the droplet away with your thumb. “Come here.”

You unraveled yourself from him and he hated it, but then you took his hand and encouraged his steps closer to the crib. Reaching in, you lifted your sleeping daughter, nestling her against your breast. “Kiss our girl,” you said, “Because she’s safe.”

Jake sniffed and swallowed and leaned down to press a long kiss to Eve’s forehead. You nodded and returned her to her little bed, then took his hand again and led him to your bedroom. When you closed the door you faced him, dropped your robe, and walked back into his space, into the cocoon of his arms. 

“Now kiss me.” Your voice was low in the nonexistent space between you. But there was a neediness woven through the words. A neediness he understood incredibly well. “Because I’m safe.”

Lips met. Your arms circled his neck. His fingers slipped under the hem of the silken fabric you wore, thin material rising as his hands moved further up your body. More skin, that’s all he wanted. Just…more. 

When you pulled back, he rested his forehead on yours. 

“We’re always safe with you Jake,” you muttered. "And we won’t forget it."

----

A/N: Turn on notifications for this blog or @seresinhangmanjake-library if you would like to keep up with my writing :)

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #top gun maverick #dad!jake seresin #dad!jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin fanfic #jake seresin fic #jake seresin fanfiction #hangman top gun #tgm fic #tgm #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin x female!reader #jake seresin x f!reader #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin angst

[bakasara]

Trying to parse my thoughts on Izzy's death and why I had a different reaction to it than I thought I would. To summarize: I thought I wouldn't like it, but also that they wouldn't do it; the opposite happened– they did it but I'm ok with it.

I'm also feeling like talking through some mourning for an amazing character, so follow along if that's you, too 😌

(I should probably clarify the following thoughts are coming from someone who deeply enjoyed this season.)

I first wondered what would be of Izzy around the end of season 1. I expected him to have a heel-face turn – which I object to calling a redemption arc and I'll get into why, because the distinction ties into his death imo. A lot of antagonistic characters' changes of heart end directly in death, but I thought they'd subvert that trope. And they... did, actually, despite Izzy dying. Not an option I had imagined.

What the show avoided is the logic, the set of tropes attached to the deaths of this kind of character. These deaths usually come as a consequence of the character's changed ethics or "redemption". My being against that scenario came from the diverging natures of traditional redemption arcs and OFMD's rhetoric.

A traditional redemption arc functions by a kind of catholic logic, if you will: the villain can become one of the good guys by balancing out his "sins"/bad deeds with enough good deeds to tip a moral scale. This often involves a purifying suffering, which acts as an agent to expiate one's faults. To the viewer, this suffering can serve to activate our empathy and make the character more sympathetic. It can also legitimize his quest: our trust in the character's good intentions comes from seeing that the character is ready to make sacrifices to become better and he isn't deterred by the hardships of doing the right thing.

The death occurring at the end of a traditional redemption arc acts as the ultimate sacrifice and/or purification. A number of ideas might be at play behind it, depending on each story: only in death can the soul become fully pure, or a final sacrifice is "needed" to demonstrate the change once and for all, or change was only possible up to a point after which there is no viable/acceptable future – the character deserves moral points for changing, but not so many that he also deserves a full life, or past crimes make him more expendable, etc.

But these are all ideas that aren't evoked in any of the crew's journey in OFMD. For starters, the show isn't interested in "catholic" redemption; its focus is on reintegration/rehabilitation into the community. Rather than appealing to the more traditional (in Western media) and more christian principle of "purification of the soul through mortification of the body", it plays with notions of restorative justice.

We see it especially this season with Ed and Izzy. Ed's arc is a whole little lab for it. We have the community being made to decide whether he can stay or should leave; catbell!Ed is made to apologize to the people affected – which he initially does abysmally, with what fandom has dubbed his "CEO's/YouTube apology". Later, he's given the opportunity to have a more honest and genuine conversation with Fang where he learns about how he hurt him. He's made to repair some of the material damage his behavior caused. Some members feel repaid by the idea that they did to him the same he did to them (Fang) while others don't (Lucius), and the show touches on what this means for each/legitimizes both feelings. Arguably, Ed using his treasure to throw Calypso's birthday party – a much needed refrain and moment of social (re-)connection within the community – is an additional form of reparation. While Stede's belief in Ed has a clear role in helping Ed change for the better, Izzy's s2 journey focuses even more intensely on the role of social support within an individual's constructive (re-)integration into their community. The show is condensed by choice of format, but the beats are all there.

With that kind of rhetoric set up, I'd never be able to accept Izzy dying in a way that feels like a punishment for his past crimes, nor in a way that should "confirm" his positive change/"purify" him for good. And he doesn't! By the time he dies, we know full well he's deeply changed, it's already established to completion. How it happens has nothing to do with proving himself – he's randomly shot in battle. It's never questioned that the time he got to live surrounded by affection mattered. The speech he gives Ed is only possible because he's changed, accessing a completely different perspective on piracy/life than before, like we see when he talks to Ricky earlier. The reason the whole crew is paying respect and crying is because he became "the new unicorn", a treasured member with a defined role. But his death itself is the show going back to the initial symbolism of Izzy as ultimate pirate. The narrative function of his death is underscoring that the age of piracy has come to an end. It's nothing to do with his change. It's posited as the "natural conclusion" (again, by symbolic function) of a character that represented piracy through-and-through, not the "natural conclusion" of a process of becoming better.

And for me, that difference changes everything. I can see and accept the logic behind it, even as I mourn Izzy as a character. It makes the grief feel like a catharsis I experience within the context of the story I'm watching, rather than a grief I feel from a show "betraying" me.

It's also a difference that completely changes how Izzy's death relates to his queerness. Izzy's change is intertwined with being able to express queer affection openly. Becoming "a unicorn" is this extremely queer imagery already – a magical rainbow creature. His role becomes akin to a mother to the crew (the mother hen!Izzy many headcanoned last season, tapping into his potential), a position that isn't extraneous to older queens, including our honored real-life mean-old-queer men. Last season he threatened another queer man for showing too much delicacy, effeminacy, vulnerability. Now, his change is a process that culminates in him singing a tender love song among the crew in drag. He's given the privilege of playing the soundtrack to our protagonists making love for the first time, which ties him symbolically to the event in a way it does no other crew member. Suffice it to say that insinuating his process of change should end in death would have been disastrous, as far as I'm concerned. Antithetical to the show's supporting ideology.

But that's not how it went. Grief occupies a big role in the queer community, but it's so rare that we get to experience it cathartically. In real life, we often have to contend with the ways queerphobia causes us trauma or even shortens our lives, or the lives of our friends. In fictional narratives, a lot of characters that get to express queerness unabashedly still die for the transgression. They're still usually the only queer character with relevant screen time or at all, at best one of two that formed a tragic couple.

We almost never have the opportunity to just mourn some motherfucker who died because they meant something else as well that was central to their character. To mourn and know we're mourning someone who wasn't ever punished for being queer-as-in-fuck-you and going all out. To mourn and not feel like it's another message of queer doom, because for once the character is surrounded by an entire crew of other queer characters that go on to live and be happy. To know the story is saying something about life, not about being queer. To know this kind of crafting was deliberate, too, because the creator has talked about working to avoid those tropes. I struggle to remember another time I had the opportunity to grieve for a queer character like they're a human being, without the implication that it's queerness itself that's a death sentence.

And honestly? It feels good. It feels like a form of catharsis I do not dislike. That I'm maybe kinda glad for. OFMD is and stays a magical world. Beyond that, in a show full of queers, one of them dies after getting some extraordinarily meaningful happiness, and it's peaceful, and I get to just be sad for the fucker without the gutting of being reminded that if you're gay, better not shoot too high. It feels like a completely different emotion that no other show, for now, would give me, but OFMD. To me, it's yet another thing it's pulled off.

As it's been known to do.

#ofmd #having warm izzy thoughts in this chili's tonight #ofmd meta #my meta