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kuni-is-daddy · 1 year

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Fear.

DOM!Shouki no kami x SUB! lessor lord Reader

Trigger warning: non consensual, corruption?

lowkey filth in the smut part. 1.2k words

Scara fic list

PART 2: IN FIC LIST.

MINORS DO. NOT. INTERACT.❌❌❌

You we're no combatant. Fighting to your last breath alone in the joururi workshop. A bitter cold domain underground that made your hairs stand on end. Yet here you we're alone 1000+ feet in the air dangling by the grip of your celestial written weapon against a reformed god.

"Pathetic. now your a waste of space, as useless alive or dead. No wonder your the lessor lord." I can try to help you, even give you a real home. Real love. "I never mistook you as some sort of fool 'God of wisdom' everyone's abandoned me. You think I care or need your sympathy because your scared of your little green house of a nation being destroyed? That itll justify the selfishness of you GODS and those that betrayed me? Your no different then them."

"N-No that's not what I meant. I'm genially trying to help you. Sure i won't give you the revenge you want but-" he cut you off. "Then your useless. I will take revenge upon the Raiden shogun. No.. my creator. And Im starting with you, lessor lord Y/n. My mother always talked about how she admires your humility. I want to see you crumble in the face of a True God. Your era. Is coming to an end.

Fear. In that moment you we're truly scared for your life. You went into this fight hoping you would win, maybe to even convince the New god's mind. But You we're defenseless. Weapon in the hand of the enemy. Kunikuzushi laughed at your fear. "Look at how you tremble y/n. How does that feel? How does it feel to be nothing. To not have control of your own piece of shit life?" You we're brought up to the god within contact. He placed his cold hand around your neck. Rubbing slowly. Then pressing. A cold smirk emerged..along with a visible tent in his pants. Enjoying how your eyes tear and roll back. How your tight grip around his arms slowly lessen

"I..is this..what you wanted..? Your all strapped to-to tubes and electro energy like some sort of....of...puppet..." you choked out as he raised you against the internal walls of the no kami.

"I want you. Y/n. And I will, have you."

SMUTT

"F-fuck yeah.. Thats it y/n. suck my cock. Just like that. embrace it." Your hands we're tied via a electro binding he put on your neck, the trail of his energy flowed through your body. You couldnt do anything but make him feel good. nor save yourself. He gripped tighter on your hair. "Back and forth..backk..and..forthh" He chanted as you sucked the gods cock "ah~ this is how your going to celebrate my rebirth. Suck your gods cock just like that. Make your fucking pathetic self useful just f' me." Continuous tears poured down your eyes at how used your little throat felt. How useless you felt. "Ngh shit.. im gonna cum. F..fuck....FUCKK~" He grabbed your head hard and slammed his cock deep down your throat. You internally screamed and choked on his cum oozing down your throat. He pushed you back and you fell against the wall. tongue gaping out and breathing hard. "K-kuni.." you moaned. he liked that. "Say my name again." This sick fuck was getting off to you being helpless and begging for him to stop. "Say it. Say your gods name y\n"

You kept your mouth shut and looked away from his eyes. He grabbed you by your cape, holding your dendro vision and jerked you towards the floor. "Say. My. Fucking name y/n. Or ill make you say it." he stared at you. "Then make me you bastard." you said coldly and spat at his face. realizing what you did. you tried to make the most of your abused throat "y-you make me feel so f-fucking dirty. why- why would you do this to me. I wanted to help you." He laughed. "Because thats what you are y/n. My slut. your gonna make daddy feel good, thats how you'll make yourself useful to your people" He turned you around and wasted no time putting two of his fingers inside of you "AH~ K-KUNI. IT HURTS-" realizing you said his name you tried to cover your mouth, but got shocked by the electro seal for "Disobeying"

"its only two fingers y/n... if your like this then how are you going to take my load inside of you. how am i going to breed you." he sighed. "N-NO KUNI- I DONT WANT IT.. P-PLEASE AH~" suddenly his fingers pulled away and it was silent. You slowly turned your head to be greeted by his hand pressing you hard face down ass up on the floor of the no kami. His cock pushed deep inside of you making you see stars in an instant. "Im gonna make a pathetic archon like you, Drunk on my cock. Some god of wisdom you are~"

He thrusted inside of you slowly as your tight hole adjusted to his big length. "Kuni~~ P-Please.." Your tongue stuck out again at how his cock stretched you inside. "S-shit you feel so fucking warm y/n..How did you feel when i choked you? Did you get fucking wet for me? Was this your pathetic idea from the start? to fight me knowing you cant win just to get my cock shoved inside of you and make you my cum dumpster?" he slapped your ass. "Y-YES KUNI!!! i- mPh.. I wanna be your cuHm dumpster daddy." You started to loose hope and fall into the lustful feeling he gave you. It was wrong, but it felt so fucking good. The way you'd get shocked when moving too far with your arms. The way his cock filled you perfectly. Just imagine how his warm seed would feel inside of you. filling you up. "Mmm Daddy..K-Kuni.. Please. Please.. give me your cum. Ah~ I want it. I want it~" you moaned pathetically. "Fuck.. Submit to this cock Y/n. Beg for me. Beg for my seed. Like the fucking animal you archons are. Take your god, Your majesty. Your everythings cock. As you should. Beg for me to cum inside you."

#yandere genshin x reader #scaramouche smut #scaramouche headcanons #scaramouche #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x yn #genshin smut #genshin headcanons #genshin x you #genshin x y/n

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woozvc · 8 months

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all my love

based on this request (by @cienlvrs )

synopsis — vernon is a quiet person but he doesn't realise you see all his love.

pairing — vernon x gn!reader

word count — 746

warnings — hint of insecurities but it's not elaborated on, reader gets fired from work, tiredness

genre/s — non idol au, quiet x hyper, fluff

a/n — this is for @caratsland 's October event! a little sappy but wtf I love vernon sm 🥲

...My love only amounts to this

vernon is not a verbal person. he's always been the quiet one in his friend groups. during the beginning of your relationship it would usually be you who would initiate conversations. don't get it wrong, staying in silence with vernon is amazing but you liked his voice. there were moments where you wondered if vernon liked u the way u liked him. and he knew that. he felt immense love for you but he could never express it. did his love only amount to this?

....Me, who doesn’t know what to do.

What can I possibly do?

I’m sincerely sorry.

My love only amounts to this

But thank you for staying by my side

My baby

as you guys went on, you realised he loved you more than words could express. his love was quiet not silent. you guys got more comfortable with eachother, comfortable in your dynamic of you blabbering your heart out and vernon listing intently with short answers. it might seem rude to an outsider, but to you it was love. you loved vernons love. he was worried he wasn't doing enough, so he always did more. your rough days were rough for him too. he never knew how to respond to your hour long rants about how hard life is. he never knew what to say or what to do to make you feel better. so he listened, hoping itll be enough for you.

...I can do everything for you.

I only have a big heart that wants to give you everything

a year and half into your relationship and vernon was sure he could take a bullet for you. he was sure he could do anything for you. but, what? nothing felt right to do. he wanted to take you out on fancy dates but you always preferred his dates at home and so did he. he wanted to do something special but he never understood what the special was to you. he wants to give everything in the world to you and he wants you to receive. so do you. vernon doesn't realize you see him clean the kitchen after you say you're tired. vernon doesn't realise you see him work endless nights so that both of you could have the future you aspire to. vernon doesn't realise you see him look at you like you're his whole world. vernon doesn't realise you see his big heart.

..My love only amounts to this.

But my heart won’t change

three years into your relationship and vernon talks a lot more now. he tried his best to give more than a word answers, he tried his best for you to notice that he's listing. he's loved you since the day he saw you at his local music shop in the same asile as him and he loves you now. he knows his love for you is immeasurable, he knows it'll never fade. he knows no matter what happens you'll always be his beginning, middle and end but he still feels like it's less. he measures his love in an amount and for him it's not much. but he knows, no matter what happens, his heart won't change.

...I’ll be your umbrella when it rains.

I’ll protect you throughout all your days

now as u stand in your home, you're content. it's hard to remember how many years you have been with vernon. time flew and you heart stayed the same. your house is quiet mostly, vernon still basking in his silence like he always has. he has moments where he makes it obvious that he feels not good enough, but you're here to remind him u see it. you saw it when u ranted to vernon for the first time about getting a bad grade in math and the next day he got you new pens and suggested to sit with you and help you solve workbooks. you saw it when you got fired from your first job and he spend the next 3weeks driving to place to place. you saw it when he was there for you when no one else was. you've both realised you're going to be each other's forever. vernon says he'd like to be your umbrella on the bad days. little does he know, he's the reason the bad days dont seem so stormy anymore. you give him all your love, and he gives you all of his.

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forecast0ctopus · 4 months

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Just wanted to pop in and say that your art is so cool!! It's so-- SHAPES!! And I especially like how you draw McCoy, he's a favorite of mine and he has such a specific set of facial features that seems so hard to simplify, and yet you manage so well! And there's something I really love about your poses and compositions too, they're so very dynamic and/or evocative even when characters are just standing. Aaa so much to say--

I also saw your last ask, and as someone who was also intimidated by the sheer amount of content there is like you, just know that if you get invested you kinda just forget about it. I got into TNG first and that series alone looked like an enormous task to finish. Before I knew it I finished it and went on to watch DS9, and I already can't wait to see more. In general my tip is to go with the flow and see it as a hobby rather than something to achieve, because nobody is forcing you to watch EVERYTHING there is. You get there when you'll get there, y'know! It's a show about silly space people, have fun with it! (but with all the fan art you're drawing, I'm sure you already are hehe)

ANYWAY SORRY FOR THE BARRAGE OF TEXT THIS AIN'T EVEN AN ASK BUT UHHH BUH-BYE

THANKS i just. like shapes and points and lines.. i just think they’re neat…… i really like drawing mccoy hes got such a specific posture haha i will definitely be posting. more of him lmao

im on tng s2 right now and i definitely never push myself to watch things i don’t want to watch (except angel (1999) because. i like spike) but i do take my time with watching things so itll be a good while until i’m on the next series.. it did take me uhhh years to finally finish tos but the dam really broke on that in december so. here we are

bones time

#becoming one of those shows where i put an episode or two on while i drink tea or eat dinner or something lmao #always a good time imo #im just so used to shows that get canceled so. change of pace! fun #ask #aless-was-here #honestly big fan of taking time with shows instead of binging them #if any of you ever watch twin peaks pleaase begging you watch it one or two episodes a day its sooo much better when u get to sit and think #or better yet for the 1990 viewing experience u could watch it every thursday night.#not to discuss twin peaks on star trek ask. oops

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astrobei · 1 year

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SUNI!!!!! can i maybe request byler + giggling while kissing🫢🫢 go crazy with it i know itll make me insanely giddy

liv !! absolutely anything for you !! this got away from me so fast and it's so. it's. well. you'll see. here's kiss prompt #29 - giggling while kissing

“Someone’s in a good mood today,” Will remarks, raising an eyebrow at Mike over the top of his book. “What’s gotten into you?”

Mike just grins, closing the front door behind him. It’s five o'clock on a Thursday, meaning Mike’s had class from ten this morning almost straight through four p.m., with a brief break in between American Lit and his creative writing workshop where he’d run across campus to the good café for a bagel and a coffee. According to all logic and reason, Mike should not be in a good mood. He should, statistically speaking, be in a really shitty mood.

And yet.

“Nothing,” Mike says, dropping his bag to the floor, right there in the entrance to their apartment. “And what the hell? I got home, like, three seconds ago.”

Will keeps the same look fixed on him as Mike kicks his shoes off, sending them tumbling one after the other into the corner of the room. “Call it a certain je ne sais quoi,” Will replies, following Mike with his gaze as he immediately moves to pick up his shoes. “I can tell.”

Mike turns and squints. “You know French?”

“Sure,” Will laughs, then sets his book aside. He stretches, long and lazy along the length of the sofa, socked feet emerging from the ends of the blanket he’s got thrown over him. “Let’s go with that.”

“You don’t know French,” Mike announces. He would know. Will took Spanish with him for all four years of high school – four agonizing years of conjugating the past participle and imperfect subjunctive – and was even brave enough to attempt a brief foray into an introductory college class before finally calling it quits. Personally, Mike thinks it’s impressive Will lasted the semester. Mike had collected his high school credits and never looked back. “I would know.”

“Yeah?” Will leans back on the couch, watches Mike shuffle the rest of their shoes into place on the shoe rack. “Maybe I do.”

He doesn’t. “Prove it,” Mike says, then picks his bag up off the ground and plops it on top of the dining table. “Say something in French right now. Something romantic.”

“Bonjour,” Will says easily. “Mon ami.”

Mike squints even harder this time. “‘My friend’ is not a romantic thing to say, and also, you’re a liar.”

Will frowns. “How do you know French?”

“I don’t,” Mike laughs. “But I read a lot of Agatha Christie.”

Will gives him a weird look, a little incredulous and a little amused, then holds up the book he’d been reading. It’s Mike’s copy of Murder on the Orient Express. “Yeah, I know. You're unbelievable.”

“I’ve been looking for that,” Mike says, even though he absolutely hasn’t. “You thief.”

Will just smiles, beckoning Mike over to the couch with his free hand. “You love me,” he says, which is a lot closer to the mark than Mike would like Will’s rebuttals to his (entirely unserious) jabs to be.

Mike walks over, of course, because Will is right, and Mike loves him, and love makes you do crazy, stupid things – like being happy on a Thursday evening when your head hurts and your body hurts and all you want is to sleep straight through Friday afternoon. Frankly, it’s ridiculous how happy Mike feels. It’s a bit of an embarrassing look for him, actually.

“Hi,” Mike says, entirely unnecessarily, and lets Will pull him down with one hand. He lands sideways, sprawled halfway across Will’s lap, over the top of the absurdly fuzzy blanket they keep at the foot of the sofa.

Will smiles up at him. “Hey,” he replies, easy and warm. It’s also ridiculous, along with everything else, how soothing the single word is as it leaves Will’s mouth, how Mike’s oncoming headache ebbs, ever-so-slightly, at the sound. Will’s still got Mike’s book in one hand, but he folds a page down and sets it on the coffee table, then scoots over to make room, pressing his back up against the sofa cushions. “How are you feeling?”

“Good,” Mike sighs, tucking his face into Will’s neck and trying his hardest to not fall off the edge of the sofa. He wiggles his feet under the blanket too, tucks them under Will’s calves, the warm fleece of his pajama pants. “A little tired,” he admits, and Will lets out a sympathetic noise above him. “But good.”

“I’m glad,” Will murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to the top of Mike’s head. “And I know for a fact you’re in a weirdly good mood because I folded down the page of your book and you didn’t even yell at me.”

It takes a second for the words to land. Then–

“Oh, you asshole,” Mike laughs, immediately twisting around in Will’s arms to look at his poor, innocent book lying on the coffee table’s coaster-dotted surface. “You were testing me?”

“You told me you didn’t care about that anymore,” Will points out, one arm wrapping instinctively around Mike’s waist as he moves. “You said you were working on it.”

“I am working on it!” Mike protests. “It’s a secondhand copy anyway, it was already dog-eared and– it’s not about that! I just think you’re so–”

“Mhm?”

“So ridiculous,” Mike says halfheartedly, as Will drops a light kiss to his nose, then his cheek. “I’m in a normal mood. A normal, fine, ordinary–”

“Sure–”

“–and I’m not any more happy than usual–”

“–uh huh–”

“Will!” Mike laughs, breaking away from Will’s vice grip, pulling back from where Will had been leaning in to press another kiss to his cheek. “Oh my god.”

Will just smiles at him. His hair is a bit messed up from lying on the couch, and Mike can feel himself warming up, slowly, from the late February chill he’d braved to walk from the bus stop back to their apartment. “Sorry,” he says, a bit apologetic, a bit pleased, and entirely genuine. “You’re just so fun.”

“I hate you,” Mike whispers. He’s sure that any hope of the phrase having even the slightest semblance of effect is vanquished immediately by the way he says it – breathless and adoring and totally, completely lovesick. “You’re infuriating.”

“You love me,” Will repeats, looking even more happy with himself than before, like getting Mike riled up and flustered is the highlight of his day. He pushes a strand of hair out of Mike’s eyes and asks, more seriously, “Are you hungry? You want something to eat?”

“Yeah? You’re gonna cook for me?” Mike asks, as if they don’t know a grand total of maybe five recipes between the two of them.

“Sure,” Will says. “Yeah. It’ll be romantic.”

Last Mike checked, they needed to get groceries, and he’s not sure what they even have that could feasibly be put together for a meal, but Will’s weirdly good at that sort of thing – throwing the most random ingredients together until it resembles something vaguely edible. Not gourmet, by any means, and sometimes not even good, but, like – if you need caloric sustenance, he’s your guy.

Mike isn’t sure how he feels about another one of those meals, though. Especially when he considers the stockpile of tuna cans in the pantry that’s been there for about a million years. He gives Will a suspicious look. “Like what?”

“Don’t give me that look,” Will says, then shoves gently at Mike’s side to get him to stand up. He follows, kicking the blanket off into a haphazard pile on the end of the sofa, and trailing Mike into the kitchen. “Mac and cheese. From a box.”

Kraft dinner sounds safe enough. “Okay,” Mike says happily. “Thank you.”

He hops up onto the counter while Will digs around the cupboard for a pot, then goes about filling it with water. The kitchen is silent for a while, save for the low humming of the fridge, the sharp clicking of the stove as it turns on. Mike watches him move, a low flame of affection bursting to life in tandem with the gas-fueled warmth against his skin. It’s probably dangerous to be sitting so close to the stove when it’s on, but whatever. It’s the only strip of counter that has enough space for Mike to climb onto and still be this close to Will.

“What’s up with you?” Will asks, pulling a box of mac and cheese off of the cupboard shelf and peering curiously up at him.

Mike, a little belatedly, realizes he’s smiling. “Nothing,” he says, as Will sets the box down on the counter next to Mike’s thigh. “Why?”

“I don’t believe you,” Will says, then slots himself easily into the space between Mike’s legs, rests two hands on his hips. “You never smile this much on a Thursday.”

“You’re so hung up on it being a Thursday,” Mike hums, as Will presses his fingers into Mike’s skin, pushing up the soft fabric of his sweatshirt just a little. “Why are you– hey, that tickles!”

Will just grins, watching Mike squirm with no small amount of joy on his face. “Watch out for the fire,” he says, calm and collected and cool as a cucumber, like he wasn’t the one that nearly got him burned in the first place.

“Watch out for the– oh, shut up,” Mike says. Will laughs, low and pleased, and leans forward, tilting his face up.

“Come down here,” he says, frowning. “I can’t kiss you when you’re all the way up there.”

“Not my fault I’m taller than you,” Mike mumbles, but slides off the counter anyway. He lands a bit awkwardly, stumbles half a step forward before Will steadies him.

“I’m hung up on it being a Thursday,” Will says, tucking a kiss to the side of Mike’s cheek, right under his ear, “because you’re always miserable on Thursdays.”

“I am not,” Mike laughs, as Will pulls back. “What gave you that idea?”

“You’re up early and you have a million classes and you never get enough time to actually eat during the day and you never let me forget it,” Will says, the answer a little too immediate for Mike’s liking. He steps closer, presses Mike back up against the counter until the cold linoleum tiles are digging into the small of his back. “And you’re a menace when your blood sugar is low. Is that it? Did you eat a real lunch today? Are you currently operating under normal human physiology?”

Mike thinks back to the solitary bagel he’d eaten in approximately seven bites while running between the English building and the Communications building. “Um. Unless you count me getting an everything bagel instead of plain, then no.”

“Then what is it?” Will asks. “I can tell, you’re so– you’re being so–”

Mike gives him a strange look. “I don’t think I’m being anything,” he says. It’s true – he doesn’t feel any different from normal, except maybe a little warmer and a little fuzzier and a little bit more hungry than on his average day. “What’s your deal? What am I being?”

“Smilier,” Will says, tilting his head like he’s looking for a nonexistent giveaway in Mike’s face. His eyes dart over Mike’s features, slowly, drinking them in.

“That’s not a word.”

“If I guess,” Will starts, ignoring him, “will you tell me?”

“There’s nothing to guess– Will!” Mike shrieks softly, as Will peppers a quick succession of kisses across his cheek and down his neck. “Fuck you, that tickles!”

“Good grade on a paper?” Will hums against his throat, which isn’t really doing much to help with the tickling thing. Mike tries to pull away, but Will’s grip is steadfast, unyielding. “Heard back from your advisor?”

“No, and no,” Mike gets out. “Nothing happened!”

“Don’t believe you,” Will murmurs, then kisses Mike over the bridge of his nose. “Class got canceled?”

“Thankfully not,” Mike laughs, “because we were peer reviewing today– Will, oh my god, why are you–”

“Be honest with me,” Will says, squinting slightly, “are you on drugs?”

“How the hell would I be on drugs,” Mike stares, a grin spreading, wide and giddy, across his face. His chest is aching from laughter, cheeks already tired from smiling so hard. It’s ridiculous how often he feels like this around Will. He didn’t know you could feel so exhausted in such a wonderful way, by such a wonderful thing. A welcome ache, soothing and grounding and exhilarating all at once. “I don’t understand you.”

“Then tell me,” Will says quietly, leaning in again. He kisses Mike, soft and intentional, thumbs rubbing circles over his hips where his crewneck had ridden up earlier, long and slow enough that Mike forgets about it, for a second – the teasing and the prodding and the interrogation – and the warm ache of laughter gives way to something smoother, steadier. He wants to sink into the feeling like a warm bath – or maybe a dry macaroni noodle in a pot of boiling water.

“The water,” Mike mumbles, barely decipherable. “It’s boiling.”

“It’s just water,” Will says, “it’ll be fine,” and kisses him again.

That’s a good point. “Okay,” Mike whispers, and lets the feeling overtake him – Will’s hands, steady and warm where they’re pressed against Mike’s skin. Where his hair is still damp from his shower, because Will is ridiculous and lame and has one morning class on Thursdays and gets to lay around at home for the rest of the day.

Will presses another kiss to Mike’s lips, leans in once, twice, and–

Thud.

“Ow,” Mike groans, pulling away just long enough to squeeze his eyes shut and rub at the back of his head, where the cabinet had oh-so-rudely refused to move out of the way for him. “Great.”

“Mike,” Will says in mild disbelief, biting down on his lower lip. His eyes are sparkling, cheeks a little flushed. God, Mike loves him. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” he breathes out, smiling. “I’m– yeah, that was so stupid.”

“So stupid,” Will grins. “How did you do that?”

“I don’t know,” Mike groans again, exasperated and drawn-out, and that’s it – Will laughs, bright and happy and eyes going all crinkles at the corners and moves in to kiss him again.

“You’re so ridiculous.”

“Don’t laugh at me,” Mike protests, but he’s laughing too, catching Will’s soft exhales as they leave his chest, leaning forward to press more of his weight into him. Will moves easily, lets Mike grin against his mouth – wide and happy and far too pleased for his own good.

“Okay, don’t tell me,” Will says at last, pressing a final kiss to Mike’s cheek before pulling away. “I’m just happy you’re happy.”

“Will,” Mike starts, then reels him back in with one hand on his wrist. Will looks startled, eyes wide as Mike catches him by the other hand too. “I was– nothing happened, I swear. I was just thinking about you earlier.”

Will blinks. “You were thinking about me?”

“Yeah,” Mike shrugs. Will says this like it’s a rare, wondrous occasion – Mike thinking about him, that is – and not something that usually happens during most of Mike’s waking hours and some of his unconscious ones too. “I was thinking about you. You just– you make me feel better. I didn’t notice anything was different.”

Will just looks at him. “So you’re not on drugs?”

Mike drops his head to Will’s shoulder and sighs, long and bereaved. Will laughs, low and breathy next to his ear, wraps both arms around Mike’s waist, and holds on. “Seriously?”

“I’m kidding,” Will murmurs. “That’s sweet. You– really? What were you thinking about?”

This is embarrassing.

“Just you,” Mike admits, a little muffled into the fabric of Will’s sweater. “Just– coming home to you, after a long day.”

“Sap,” Will says, saccharine and so fond that it seems to be spilling right out of him. Mike can feel it, all the ways Will loves him, like it’s a physical thing that’s taking shape under his hands. They’re what make Mike think about him so often, all the time, in the middle of a painstakingly long lecture or seminar. Turning memories like these over in his mind, the simple comfort in knowing his day is going to get better as soon as Will gets his arms around him.

“Shut up,” Mike says. He turns to kiss along the curve of Will’s cheekbone, right under his eye, where the skin has gone wonderfully pink and creased with laughter, then pulls away. “The water’s been boiling for, like, ten minutes, by the way. Just so you know.”

#the actual giggling while kissing part was like 1.5 paragraphs #sorry liv #i hope u like this anyway :^)#saw this prompt n just #mmmmm m m m mm mmmm mm mm #domestic college byler my most beloved #god i'll never get sick of writing them #i have 234239837234 scenarios for them in my mind fr #n e ways #byler #mike wheeler #will byers #fun sized fics

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rubylovessharks · 2 months

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Rook x gn!reader, reader is NOT the mc (you are 18 or else itll be kinda weird) im also bad at giving chars nicknames that fit the char that gave them so you all will have to live with "mon rival" :/ i was also using google to help me out with the language of flowers so it might be wrong??? but i really hope its not- either way you get the point i was trying to make. also ik rook'd write poems for his s/o / crush and all but i have NO IDEA how to write them- ill try to include the knowledge of poems in the next fic but im not writing one!!

you and rook have fallen inlove with Vil himself! yet he seems uninterested in any of you romantically..but then again Rook has been looking mighty fine these past few weeks...

Ever since the start of your first year in NRC you've been getting closer and closer to Vil Schoenheit, who has shown you much of his personality that many don't get to see. One day he has introduced you to a new friend of his at the time, Rook Hunt. An odd fellow but he doesn't seem that bad.

That is until you have figured out you had feelings for Vil, and not just any feelings. Romantic feelings. And it seems that a certain hunter has the same feelings for Vil as well....

So for the past year you and Rook have had a friendly rivalry competing for Vil's affection, even though he has been dismissing both of your efforts to court him none of you would ever give up, after all he never said 'no', has he? Whenever you'd send Vil a bouquet of pretty roses Rook always seems to bring him an even bigger, prettier bouquet of roses. Whenever Rook would surprise Vil with a tasty meal you'd bring him a new tastier dish. And so on and on both of your efforts would go until a few weeks ago....

"Mon Rival, I wish you a good morning and a wonderful day!" It was normal for Rook to wish you good mornings and such whenever he saw you, but he never did so with ...a bouquet of exactly 7 roses? Is he showing off that he's about to give that to Vil? But you notice that he hasn't moved at all, there he is in front of you, hand held out with said roses. "I do hope you'll take good care of them, after all i have made sure they'd grow as pretty as you are!"

Confused yet flattered you take the flowers in your hand and just stand there. Rook goes on about his day and leaves you to wonder what this was all about. After all a bouquet of roses is a weird thing to give to your rival that wants to win the affection of another. But it seems that he doesn't stop there.. Now every week you'd get a bouquet of 7 roses either from Rook himself, or at your doorstep. It also seems that he stopped trying to win against you for Vil's love, but it also didn't look like they were together. Something clearly wasn't right..

Today you were talking to Vil as you were both sitting at lunch, nothing to big to talk about as there really was nothing new. Other then one thing. Rook's strange behavior. "Have you not noticed Rook's sudden change in behavior?" he asks you in a tone that makes you think he knows something you clearly don't. "I have, but I have no idea what it's all about. I mean my whole room is about to be filled with so many roses that my roommates are starting to get concerned!" it's true, you have started to put the flowers Rook gives you in anything that isn't a vase only because you have none remining! And you have nowhere else to them other then around your bed as to not get in the way of your roommates.

"And have you ever asked him 'why' or perhaps looked up what the meaning is?" Vil has a good point. Why didn't you think of looking up on the internet what the meaning is!? As you are about to answer Vil, Rook shows up with Epel and they both sit down. Not much else was going on that day, so the moment you finally had free time you looked it up. It's not that you didn't know that roses were a love language, it's that he always brought exactly 7 roses each and every time!

The moment you realized what that meant you have finally understood what's up with Rook's behavior. He no longer wants to be with Vil, but with you instead. But why? what's with the sudden change? It's not that he stopped obsessing over Vil, but he seems to be more interested in you a lot more now.

The following day you saw Rook, with yet again, another bouquet. But now that you know the true meaning of it you can't help but blush a little. "Mon Rival! I was just on my way to your dorm to ask someone to bring you these! What has you walking around so early?" It really was early, considering today was a Sunday and no classes were held, so many students would just sleep the day off and take a break.

"I was actually going to look for you." you can see the look of surprise on his face, it's not everyday you are confronted by your very own crush. "I wanted to ask you why you are even doing any of this. Don't you love Vil or something? Why am I the one you now hold affection for?" Rook gives you a smile and hands you the bouquet as he's about to speak. "You see after I finally understood that Roi du Poison does not like me back, I have also understood that it is you who I truly love." as you take the roses he continues tot speak as he puts his hands on his chest. "I see the way you look at beauty. The way you admire it! You look so lovely whenever you stare at Roi du Poison with such a loving stare. I wish you'd look at me that way."

Blush is creeping onto your cheeks as he confesses his love for you, it is the moment you realize you love him just as much as he loves you.

How can you not accept his roses after this?

#disney twisted wonderland #twst #twst wonderland #rook twst #rook x reader #rook hunt #twst rook #vil twst #vil schoenheit #vil twisted wonderland #x reader fic

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magpigment · 3 months

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a straightforward guide to rectifying your own (un)ending: by william wisp

1. accept that nothing you ever thought you were is permanent. you're in a constant state of flux (or at least, a constant state of decline. what's the difference between transformation and decomposition, really?)

2. you are already familiar with grieving, both in yourself and others. (you'll never forget the sounds of your mother crying over her baby boy that died in the room across from your bedroom. you put your hand to your chest and feel your pitter pattering heartbeat in the long nights after 'the accident'.) youre very familiar with grief, indeed.

3. get used to feeling like youre haunting your own life, like youre possessing your own body, like youre a ghost trying to remember what it feels like to be the person youre scared you no longer are. it never goes away. you know youll hope for it to, anyway.

4. your joints are stiff. you remember reading about rigor mortis a while back (you cant forget it. you cant forget any of it. youve tried).

5. arent you tired? youre scared to fall asleep. youre scared you wont wake up.

6. if youre not already accustomed with shame, youll learn soon enough. you already hated most things about yourself before you died. you think you hate this part most of all. (you feel it festering where your heart is meant to be. you dont want to check if you still have a pulse.)

7. you want to help people. you try to help people. you fail to help people. rinse. repeat. youre not a hero. you dont have superpowers. youre just a dead kid. you really thought youd be good for anything other than haunting the people you care about?

8. you shouldve stayed in the dirt. (you know youd just crawl right back out. there's still mud under your nails. in your lungs.)

9. your name is on a tombstone. you stare at it. you stare at it. you stare at it. you dont blink.

10. your older brother thinks youre a freak. you dont tell him that you agree. you dont tell him anything. you dont tell him anything at all anymore. it's not really such a big difference to how it was before.

11. youre nothing but a bad omen. you dont know how everybody else keeps missing the signs. (you cant feel your fingers.)

12. the stages of decomposition are fresh, bloat, putrefaction, advanced decay, and skeletonization. you dont know which stage youre at. you dont even know if that applies to you anymore. (you cant feel your fingers.)

13. youre scared. (when are you not? you know youre a coward. you cant feel your fingers.)

14. rules of three. before, during, after. limbo. maybe it's all limbo. there's nothing left for you here. there's nothing left for you there. you dont know which is worse, lingering or passing on. you really are just a ghost, arent you?

15. avoid your reflection like the plague. you were never really pretty before, but now you look ghastly, all gaunt skin and eyebags and twitching tendons. (rigor mortis. you cant tell if the shudder that runs through you is from revulsion or a dying muscle spasm.)

16. you dont sleep anymore. youre pretty sure you dont need to anymore. youre still tired.

17. ignore the chill that never goes away.

18. ignore the way you reek of death. animals never go near you, now. you see vultures circling ahead that disappear when you blink. (just a carcass with the audacity to still walk around.)

19. ignore your friends concern. if you pretend everything is fine enough, maybe itll be true.

20. ignore how hopeless it all feels. youve seen the afterlife. there's nothing waiting for you there, so dont even think about it.

21. ignore the way your hands shake.

22. ignore the fact your chest doesnt move from breaths.

23. ignore that your wounds dont heal quite right.

24. ignore the disgust you feel whenever you move and your joints dont bend the way theyre meant to.

25. ignore your shame, ignore your fear, ignore the fact your heart doesnt beat anymore-

26. ignore it all

27. you cant

28. you cant

29.

30.

31.

32. you try anyway

33.

34. rinse. repeat.

35. ....

36. accept this crypt of a person youve become. you think, maybe, that this fate hangs over you like a guillotine- like this death was meant to happen, like you were always meant to become this. it all seems too perfect to be coincidence, right?

37. 'william wisp, the one meant to be the wisperer, keeper of the wispering woods, born and raised (and killed) in deadwood.' it's all so cliche.

38. that dread builds in your throat like phlegm. you cant accept it, but what other choice do you really have?

39. after all, you couldn't have ended up any other way!

#dandy writes #jrwi #jrwi spoilers #jrwi prime defenders #jrwi william #william wisp #jrwi pd spoilers

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pink-november · 5 months

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Oh hear me out, what if the 1st playthrough of "save the monster" (swapname?) It still go through the base assumptions of their role, like oh "arent monsters are supposed to be slain?" And if you actually go through with it, the long quiet will kill you instantly. Just as the princesses 's default goal is always to get out, what if the monsters is to kill? And with each perspectivr you bring, itll change how they react to princess later on (kill, spare, something else)

-N

There is a mountain at the center of the land from which rumors tell of a slumbering beast capable of tearing the world apart.

The path to its location was arduous and filled with obstacles even the most valiant knight would find difficult.

You are a princess, on your way to slay the monster threatening the safety of your people for good.

"I don't think this is a good idea at all, Your Highness."

You turn to your knight wordlessly, his nervous smile failing to hide the mounting fear in his eyes.

You reassure him still because he is a precious friend from your childhood and you are used to his behavior. He is after all tasked to protect you from any danger and the journey you're in is anything but safety.

"You shouldn't had listened to the Duke. You know he only wishes to see you dead."

You nod, remembering the wicked Duke with his mysterious smirk as he dared challenged you and your right to the throne. Your hands clenched tightly around the dagger he bestowed upon so eagerly, the blade dull and chipped, a ceremonial blade at its best.

You are insulted. You threw it on the rocky road you're trekking in with a huff, extending a hand towards you're knight, a firm request to give you his sword instead.

"I've heard worse ideas in my life."

He still gives you his weapon, his belief in you a comfort and grim acceptance all at once.

You reached the entrance of a dark cave, shadows licking the soles of your boots. A princess you may be but a dress is hardly armor for the beast you are about to slay. Instead you don the finest armor your knight provided you and with it the strength you'll need for the impending fight.

Your knight doesn't say anything while you jog to where you hope the beast lays. You hope he isn't getting cold feet now.

Then you see it.

A mighty looming creature in the middle of a wide cavern, terrifying yet magnificent in all its entirety. You cannot discern its form just yet, just a mass of shadows that fills you with awe and fear and-

It was silent.

It did not appear to be breathing nor disturbed at your entrance. Still as a crystal clear lake, immovable like the mountain it is buried under.

Your task becomes easier the moment you step forward.

You raised the heavy sword you carry and swung it without remorse at where you hope the monster's head is.

"Princess!"

And suddenly the earth shook.

The monster roared with a deafening silence that made your knees tremble, a hundred eyes and none staring at you, judging you, killing you, comforting you, grabbing you, devouring you, shredding you-

You die before you even had the chance to fall to the ground.

There is a mountain in the center of the land, home to a mythical beast rumored to end the world when it is awakened.

A poor village thrived on what crops the land could offer near this horrifying abode but the people were content here with what they have and a relative peace was established in their everyday lives.

There was a graveyard there, filled with the bodies of loved ones long past. And it is haunted by you.

You are a revenant, shocked to awareness of your situation, floating above an unmarked grave.

You scream.

#slay the princess #slay the princess swap au #the barebones of a concept #trying out something not sure what to make of it tho #thanks for the ask tho sorry i wasn't direct

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moonlit-positivity · 4 months

Text

How to tolerate being alone with your thoughts

Step 1. That is not your voice. It is your abuser's.

Bring awareness to all the times you're abusing yourself in your head. Let's separate that voice from your own. Who told you all those harmful things about yourself? Who's voice is that? Let's call them out. Let's give recognition to the harmful things they said and did that made you feel this way about yourself. Do you feel like you're worthless? Like you're stupid or not good enough? Who told you that? Did your parents yell at you and expect you to be perfect all the time? Did an ex partner or ex friend or sibling in your life make you feel like you were never good enough, no matter what you said or did it just could never make them happy? Let's identify these thoughts as different from who you truly are, because these thoughts originated outside of you. How can someone else dictate the value of your soul? They dont. They don't deserve that space in your heart, and they definitely don't deserve that space in your mind either. They're wrong and they don't get to dictate or control you any longer. Your job in this step is to identify your abusers and let yourself grieve the pain they put you through, so you can release that control over your heart. You did not deserve to see that kind of pain in your life. Take your time, cry it out.

Step 2. Approach with care

"I acknowledge your presence and I am thankful you're here." Let's stop telling ourselves that our thoughts & feelings dont matter. They do. Let's stop telling ourselves that our thoughts are irrational and stupid. They're not. They are there for a reason and you'll feel so much better if you can practice the art of allowing them in for a cup of tea.

Step 3. Validate

"Yeah, I know what you mean." Even your worst thoughts need a friend. You've been through too much to be so hard on yourself. Let's find ways to be a little more kinder and compassionate in this step. Normalize your feelings and remember that mistakes do not define who you truly are. Can you take a moment to sit with this hard and uncomfortable moment? Notice what gets in the way. Do you need to go back to step 1? Hmmmmmm?? (I bet you dooooo 🎶)

Step 4. Know when to validate and know when to soothe

Sometimes we require a little more ✨finesse✨ to sit well with our thoughts. In moments of extremely hard and cruel memories resurfacing, or thoughts & urges of unaliving and self harming, a little bit more softness & connection with others might be needed in these moments. Reach for your comforts, your teddy bears, your video games, your friends, safe spaces for you to talk and share, cry, journal, vent, sleep it out. Reach for your coping skills, urge surfing, riding out the emotional wave, using mnemonics to stop the racing thoughts (sing the ABC song fast on loop over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over) etc. Know when it's time to get out of your head with a teddy bear to the face.

Step 5. Honor your body's reactions

Somatics is the practice of body awareness. Notice where your thoughts and feelings pop up in your body. Is your chest tight? Is your head pounding? Do you feel weak? Is your stomach sick? Give awareness to the sensations in your body. Take a deep breath, roll your neck, unclench your jaw, roll your shoulders, stomp your feet, hold yourself in a hug, and breathe.

Step 6. Acknowledge the pain

Where did this thought & feeling come from? What deep dark cruelty did you endure? Can you find a safe place to talk about it out loud? Give it space, make it real. Your head will stop exploding if you can get it out. And stop judging yourself for needing to vent and cry. Cry!!!! Itll help!!!

Step 7. Honor your boundaries

How do you know when you need space from others? Well, you gotta listen to yourself say it first. Do you have that kind of space in your mind where you can acknowledge all the things that make you ick? Let's cultivate that space for you. It is absolutely 100% necessary and needed for you to acknowledge the thoughts and situations and people that make you feel 🤢. Point it out. Give yourself space to practice all these new ideologies and coping skills. Find friends and spaces that encourage you to share.

Step 8. Write your own affirmations

What are the things you really need to hear right now? Imagine a friend sitting in front of you, venting about the things you're going through. What do you say to them? Now say it back to yourself. You do have a voice my friend, and it is such a lovely voice. Let's get you to use it more often.

Step 9. Give yourself some ✨inspiration✨

Follow your favorite self help blogs. Find places that spread awareness and positivity for mental health & healing. MegJosephson on IG and AttachmentNerd on IG are two of my absolute favorite examples. Find sources of light that help cultivate the mindset you want to embody. Put that healing light in your face.

Step 10. You don't gotta be perfect, you just gotta show up

Keep trying. Over and over. Take it step by step. Baby steps. One millisecond at a time. Just keep. showing. up. That's all you gotta do. Show up & take breaks. You got this 🎉

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robyn-goodfellowe · 2 months

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Hi uhh idk how to say it but any tips on writing in general? I really wanna write my story I have stored in my doc but I don’t know where to start.

hello!! i am very honored that you came to ME to ask because i love to talk about writing, so thank you :) with that being said this might get a little long so ill put everything under a readmore, but all of my advice can be summarized like this

tl;dr: just start!!!

i KNOW. in my soul. that there's genuinely nothing more every aspiring writer hates to hear than "just start" lol but it really does come down to that. just start. whatever you put on the page doesnt have to be PERFECT, it just has to be there. my first drafts for anything are never solid. my initial drafts are NEVER the quality of the final

and its through careful, consistent rewriting that it becomes something more palatable and fun/easy to read. what ive noticed a lot of new writers do (and i used to be very prone to this as well) is that they go into their drafts expecting to drop their final product there, and aim for perfection. i cannot stress enough that perfection is THE ENEMY in literature. you can rewrite things thousands of times for it to turn out imperfect in the end, and thats OKAY. you'll end up with a draft you like eventually, but don't expect yourself to find it right away. it takes me a lot of consistent writing sessions to have a paragraph that im satisfied with. itll come to you naturally

but the best advice i can offer is really just ... START. open google docs and just write down your thought process, whatever that looks like for you. maybe its the summarisation of a few scenes you like, maybe its a chunk of an out of context paragraph. whatevers in your head, put it on paper and see where you can go from there. thats really the only way you can start

outside of that some of my big things are being consistent and READING. i write for at minimum half an hour every day (not always fic lol! i am a creative writing major, am working on my manuscript and also trying to get published in some small-scale literary magazines and sites. so im always working on something, basically) and its probably the only thing in my life i am super consistent about. maintaining a habit and making yourself write even when you dont "feel like it" or cant find motivation is the best way to keep writing long term. and reading, well, how i like to put it to my friends is that creativity is like a well. you cant keep drawing from it without filling it up eventually. you need good writing and good words to inspire you so you can keep drawing from your creative well. when im not writing im reading and you should be too. you really cant have one habit without the other

are really immersing myself in the world that i've created for my silly little guys. i am, at all times of the day, immersed into my stories one way or another. im almost constantly curating pinterest boards, or making playlists, or sharing it with my friends (the last one is highly important. the best way to stay encouraged is to have someone to share with) and so theres not really a day when im not thinking about what i want to write to some extent

but yeah basically thats all of the advice i can offer. write, write, write and don't be afraid for it to be not perfect. nobody is perfect, you are human. so just have fun with it

hope this can help ssomewhat! :)

#answered #writing #tql spoilers #<- used a scene from it as an example!#im not a professional though (YET) so please take all of my advice with a grain of salt #use what works and ignore the rest #also that doodle is very old but i think its still fitting

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wh0refornikolailantsov · 11 months

Note

Prompt: “You can’t die. Please don’t die.”

Song: Ursine Vulpine & Annaca – Without You

For Tolya x Reader please!!

Even In Death - Tolya Yul Bataar

Content Warnings: Canon Compliant Threat, Violence And Injury. Not Beta/Proof Read.

Working my way through the 40 requests that are currently in my drafts xx

“Your heartbeat is really loud," Tolya says, hand against his chest. You are trying to stay calm but you understand that your heart is going to give you away, it always gives you away.

"No," you tell him, "yours is worryingly quiet."

In all the time you've known Tolya, his abilities he has always focused on using them on himself, in battle he favors the sword, and her would rather let someone else do the healing than overstep that boundary without being asked. And he always asks. So his heart rending is something he more often than not just uses on himself, keeping himself calm when his fear is rocketing, keeping himself in check.

But right now you can feel the weight being lifted off your shoulders, the dullness of the pain. You don't have to let him admit it for you to know he is protecting you over himself right now. "Stop," you whisper.

"You're scared," he says, and barely registers how hard it is for him to breathe. You wonder if that's because of the definitely broken ribs or if it might be something worse... like a punctured lung. "Because you think I'm going to die."

“You can’t die. Please don’t die.” The plea makes your voice break, but you repeat it over and over. You're waiting for him to tell you he won't die, you're waiting for him to tell you itll get better, you're waiting for his reassurance, for him to tell you not to worry. But before this you promised eachother you wouldn't lie to each other about this, not even for comfort. So he won't say any of those things. Which only confirms your fear that he also thinks he is dying. "Tolya..."

"I can’t imagine being anywhere but here with you," he says pulling your hand into his.

"Tolya, this is starting to sound like a goodbye," you say.

"I'm not going to say goodbye to you, I wouldn't do that to you," Tolya's voice is uncomfortably faint, you've only ever heard him this quite and distant between the throes of sleep. "I know you don't believe in goodbyes, and you know I don't believe in endings."

"Tolya," you choke out, eyes already blurring, throat already sore from the salt of your own sadness.

"All my choices lead me to you," he is drifting in and out and you're trying to focus on here, trying to focus on this moment. Not on the what ifs, not on the lasts. The lasts are haunting you, they're plain and clear in the air around you. This could be the last time you hear his voice, which means you'll never hear him talk about poetry again, never bicker about snacks with Tamar, never bite back at Zoya. He will never wish you another goodnight or good morning, you will not hear the way he says your name, like it's the first and the last time all at once, like he has never known a better word than the sound of your name.

You're not aware of anything as Nikolai pulls you away from Tolya, but your seconds from tearing the princes throat out for increasing the distance between you when you see why. Tamar needs space, Nina needs space, and more importantly Tolya needs the space.

Your pain is rushing through you now but the pain in your heart is worst than any physical pain you've ever known. Your hurt and your physical wounds feel like nothing, your soul crushing pain is that of fear and desperation. You cannot lose him, you won't, not like this.

Not like this.

You don't even realise you're blacking out until you hit the ground.

"Look who is rising," Nadia says, pushing some of your hair from your face. You sit up too quick, heart leaping into your throat.

"Tolya," you say. Nadia gives your arm a squeeze.

"I'm fine," he says, pushing himself up on the bed opposite, he looks tired, but he is alive and recovering and right now that's the only thing that matters.

"You scared me," you say finally catching your breath.

"I'm sorry," he says. "I promise."

"You promise?" You ask, knowing what he promised you, knowing what he can and cannot promise.

"I promise the worst is over," he says. "And I'm not leaving your side until we are better."

"We?" You check.

"Even I have to rest sometimes," he admits, giving you a gentle smile. "Thank you for not giving up on me."

"I could never."

#shadow and bone #grishaverse #tolya yul bataar #tolya #tolya x reader #tolya and tamar #tolya my darling i adore you

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p0rchc0ll4ps3 · 2 months

Text

it's time for jean himages (horse images). i want to trace and color some of these digitally but itll take three years so here's what i have for now. so im posting on this blog for the headcanons and bc they're not full art pieces yet

anyways these r just sketchbook doodles so theyre not the greatest anatomywise (bc i fix them in post (ie digitally)) but you know what i stare at them so much so here

jean rides his horse in the french style which involves Lightness (a way of like. communicating with your horse and making sure the horse's needs are met, i think) so he's. really gentle with his horse. he braids the horse's hair in dressage style so button braids on top and then plaited tail. it's a big black horse with a white blaze and white socks (yeah im a horsegirl too) (in my digitally lined version of that third image, i spent like an hour making sure all the tack was accurate to the riding style. this is just the initial sketch so it's not accurate here, so you're just going to have to pretend)

harry rides horse a mixture of western and english bc he always does everything his own way, and kim (and judit not pictured) rides english bc that's the standard rcm procedure for horse. also as part of the mounted cop uniform, they have to have riding helmets lol

i think harry's horse is a small chestnut mare with a blaze and stockings, and kim's is a little bigger dark bay. they're quarter horses / thoroughbreds mostly. tho tbh they're probably elysium / insulinde specific horsebreeds that i don't know about

kim hates doing horse bc the horse never listens to him. he's used to kineema! so he's too tight on the reins. but then he ends up liking the horse anyways

obviously a lot of these r not too canon to my headcanons bc there's a few ooc phrasings and some things aren't solidified to events that i want to write about but that's ok. i'm working on writing some kinda' post-Martinaise dynamics bw Jean, memory-loss Harry, and Kim as well as the others at the 41st, and I want a lot of 'Jean has to teach Kim how to ride horse' in there. coz i think it would be fun to write kim 'wow jean is competent??? and i have to take orders from him even though i fucking hate his guts???' kitsuragi lol. making kim not good at something for once and he hates it so much how tf do you stay professional when the horse keeps misbehaving and you can't control her

also im headcanoning that all the motor carriages in insulinde at least are the british way: driver on the right, passenger on the left. carriages / horses on the road on the left (bc the rcm patch is on your right shoulder, so when you pass people on the left they can see it (if you're doing it the "normal" way ie driving/walking on the right, people can't see your patch when you pass them (i know this from experience bc i put white tape on my trenchcoat rcm-style)))

transcript for my handwriting under cut

First Image: jean on horse in the top middle: It's not a motor carriage, Kitsuragi. Loosen up on the reins. kim on horse in the top middle: I know that, Officer.

kim in the car middle left: It's not a horse, Officer. You're driving too carefully.

jean in the doorway bottom middle: Hah! You're talking to the horse! Sucker! kim with the horse bottom middle: I was just putting on her bridle Vic!

Second Image: Jean to Kim bottom right: Maybe next time you'll actually pay attention when someone's trying to fucking share knowledge with you.

Third Image: Jean on left: Hurry it up back there Lieutenant, we don't have all fucking day. Harry in middle: He's got this, Jean! Jean: Don't Jean me. Harry: He'll be fine! Kim on right: If you had let me keep the Kineema, we'd be there by now.

#these doodles are just a trick for y'all to read my hella' long as fuck texposts #bc i have SO MANY GODDAMNED THOUGHTS ABOUT EVERYTHING #about the Characters and the Worldbuilding and the Dynamics and the Plot #literally so fixated on this media it's incredible #doodles #my art #jean vicquemare #harry du bois #kim kitsuragi #jean horsegirl vicquemare #disco elysium #horses #de #also eyes is there in the second image but dw about him thats a bad drawing of him

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