#the colors in this one? i did them PERFECTLY

[azullumi]

“withering desires of a cruel man with broken confessions” ; aventurine

to you : 🧀 nonnie !! i hope you had a wonderful birthday and i’m sorry for taking a long time to finish this but hey, it’s done now (finally). belated happy birthday and i wish you all the best <33

premise — his belief that he doesn’t deserve the good things is rooted deeply underneath the dirt where he buries his corpse, and he doesn’t deserve you; this is an ode to clementia and he wishes that his song reaches you.

tags — w/ gender-neutral reader, fluff to angst, friends to friends that knows they like each other, orange as a metaphor for love, angry and forced love confessions, aven my self-sabotage and mixed signals king, 1.5k ; one-shot

note — made while listening to phoebe bridgers, faye webster, adrianne lenker, and ichiko aoba. this was supposed to be a short drabble about peeling oranges and sharing with them what happened

They say clementines are a symbol for mercy—gentle, soft, and sweet, like an echo of the sun. 

There’s the fresh smell of citrus in the air as he delicately pulls its skin to reveal its form, a warm burst of sunset trapped within its fragile walls, and his nails will be tainted by the color of its penance and he’ll forget what it feels like to only have hatred in his heart. Maybe that’s how forgiveness tastes; salvation will fill his blood as he sheds tears that carry his sins (they were never his).

“I don’t know how you can do that flawlessly.” You say, your voice drenched in wonder and amazement as you watch the movement of his fingers, adeptly peeling the fruit. The sections come apart neatly and perfectly in his hands.

He smiles, “It’s easy.”

“It’s not.” You insist, reminding him of the horror of the state the orange has become when you tried to share it with him. “Did you see the holes I tore through it? I was left with nothing but the mere coat because the juice sprayed in all directions.”

The sound of laughter forms in his throat and escapes, “It’s because it was small and the skin is hard. Come on.” He holds a small piece near your face and you part your lips open enough for him to feed you; a warm feeling resides in your cheeks as you chew. There’s a burst of sweetness, with hints of sourness that lingered in its nature in your mouth—it reminds you of the night when he held your form and gently guided you to the melody of the song. 

“Is it sweet?” He asks, his head tilted a little to the side as he bores his gaze at you. There are lingering touches, whispered honey-coated words, affectionate gestures, and eyes painted of different vivid hues and contrasting pristine tones that never seem to hold the light, only reflecting your form within. You hum, nodding your head as you answer, “You should teach me how to peel them, you know. I don’t want to be calling you everytime or having to rely on you too much.”

(Truthfully, and hopefully so, may you never learn so he’ll get to be this close to you always.)

He smiles, sunshine peeking through his expression, “I wouldn’t mind.” He wouldn’t mind if it were just a small matter or nothing at all, you can keep on calling for him, ask for his assistance or simply just his presence—he’ll come running to you. He whispers, “Use me as you wish,” and his words shatter as it falls to the ground. (See him as a tool that has never known its purpose. See him as worthless but mere dust that covers your window sills. See him as nothing but a fool who never understood the lines in his heart.)

You say, “You know you’re not just as little as that to me.”

“Then what am I to you?” The comfort of silence settles in the gaps of his fingers and he finds himself seeking, waiting, with bated breath. His gaze seems to still at your eyes before falling to your lips, lingering for a few moments before meeting your eyes once more, and your hands tremble; you know the answer, you know what to say, you know, you know, you know, you know—and, at once, there’s the warm feeling of his lips on yours as you pull him in, as he pulls you in.

It’s gentle, soft in all of its edges and cracks. He holds your face in his hands and you intertwine yours in his locks, and you pull at his hair, eliciting a hum from him. It’s a burst of warmth, the taste of something sweet still left in your tongue as he kisses you. It’s short yet it will be engraved and buried in the depths of your mind for eternity.

“I like you.” You whisper against his lips as you part, eyes heavy on each other yet his gaze wavers and his breath shudders.

“I…” Why else would he continuously seek your embrace? Why else would he prefer to be alone with you even if it’s just silence between you and him (your presence alone brings him comfort)? Why else would he take such time to understand your form and cradle your being as if you were born from glass? He didn’t have your hands carve the shape of his thoughts into the form of your being just so he wouldn’t capture the feeling of your touch on his skin and how he craves, yearns for it like a starved man—and yet, he’ll hold his head down in humiliation as he looks for the words on the ground. He’s worthless, useless, nothing like his ‘luck’ that seems to curse everyone around him, and you’re everything he’s not. “I’m sorry.”

His hands fall from your cheeks and he stands up, saying, “I’m sorry, I have to go.” 

The chair screeches beneath him; his thoughts remain silent yet deafening, your voice fading into white noise as you call for him. He has to leave—each of his footsteps are heavy, echoing back to him as if a semblance to contempt and mockery that trails his wake.

Fear and shame forms at the bottom of his lungs. What even is he afraid of? Is it the lack of experience? The fear of abandonment? But humans are not strangers to those thoughts, people are bound to leave and Aventurine wasn’t unfamiliar with that, so how could he be afraid of something that has become a friend to him? Maybe it’s when he’s torn apart from flesh to bones and they’ll see there’s nothing in him—he was born out of barren wastelands and dust, his form has been long since buried under the golden sands. Maybe it's when he’s shown everything to them and they seek for something that he doesn’t have; the disappointment that lies in their expression will forever haunt him. Was it fear or was it worry that nobody could ever love him for what he truly is? Behind the expensive clothes he wears, the shining and heavy jewelry on his wrist, the suffocating rings on his hand, maybe they prefer his skin tainted with letters instead of wounds that brands him as human.

“—Rine.” A hand grasps at his wrist, preventing him from leaving. He stills in his position, feet glued to the floor and his back turned against you. Your voice breaks, “Stay, please.”

He’s stuck, sutured to the ground, hesitation sewing his mouth shut. You urge him to turn around, your fingers tugging at him, so he could face you, so you could see him—he’s tattered, torn and conflicted over something you’ll never know. The unfriendly air of the cold night wraps around his figure, but your hand eases warmth and comfort in his weary bones.

“Why did you kiss me?” You seek for something in the gaps of his expression, looking for a falter in the lines of his features to know the thoughts that he hides beneath all the charades and facades.

“…It was a mistake.”

You answer, frustration slowly seeping into your tone, “You know damn well it’s not.” He knows completely well it’s not and it will never be. And you don’t cry nor plead, you beg with sore, trembling palms for an answer to soothe the disturbance of the waves that will come to swallow you, drowning you in the murky waters of your mind. “You don’t get to hold my hands and cradle me in yours and tell me it’s nothing. You don’t get to look at me in a way that is reminiscent of lovers and tell me it doesn’t mean anything. You don’t get to kiss me and say that it’s a mistake. You’re a cruel man, Aventurine, and you’re unfair for telling me that it was all nothing but a mistake when you haunt my dreams.”

“…I’m sorry.” He closes his eyes for a moment, darkness swallowing his vision yet his mind conjures an image of you in it, berating him. The broken pieces of your words are left scattered on the bottom of yours and his feet.

You ask, voice low, “Do you like me?”

“Why—“

“It’s a yes or no question, ‘Rine. Do you like me or do you not?”

“I love you.” His voice is raised and cracks start to form on the surface of his expression, “and it’s scaring me.” Forgive me. The clock continues to tick despite the world seemingly coming to a still at his words.

The air is suffocating and the silence sits on your shoulders before he says, whispering in a broken tone, “I’m leaving.”

And this time, you don’t stop him. His steps are rushed against the flooring, the sound of the door closing echoes throughout the corners of your mind. The walls of your home stand tall over you, his confession written and tearing through all over your wallpaper, screaming at you; you’re left crumbling on the floor. The sweet scent of citrus lingers in the air, the mess the two of you made still on the counter tops, and you wished you told him you love him too.

tagging @toorurs, the loveliest and sweetest of all. i hope you know that you're cherished and loved by me, and i'm so glad to have you and the sun that touches your skin must be too <33 always be reminded that you're beautiful and i appreciate everything that you do and say (you always make me laugh even when it's just the smallest and useless of things like wow you must have a special talent in making someone smile) !! thank you for always being there for me too and always cheering me up, and also making my day because everything for me nowadays is becoming unbearable and you're the only one that keeps me sane (fk exams and projects and research im going to cry)

© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.

#—stellaronhvnters. #hsr imagines #aventurine #hsr aventurine #aventurine honkai star rail #aventurine x reader #honkai star rail #hsr fluff #hsr x reader #hsr angst #hsr #star rail #honkai fluff #honkai imagines #honkai x reader #honkai #aventurine x you #hsr x you #honkai star rail x reader #star rail x reader #azul.writes

[rainylana]

“I’m always going to take care of you.” Alternate Version! part two!

Eddie Munson x female reader

summary: part two of my series, will also be the final part in the installation.

warnings: talk of sexual abuse and rape, depression and breakdowns, explicit details of rape and violence, mostly told in eddie’s pov, language. if i missed anything please let me know! i hope you enjoyed the reboot of this series<3 let me know your thoughts on this one, it was tough to write!

“Please, Y/n, you can’t shut me out. You can’t.” Eddie was sat by your hospital bed beside you, hands holding the metal railing that was put up at the sides.

“I told you, Eddie,” Your voice broke, eye swollen, purple and red with a gleam of tears. “I don’t need to talk about it.”

“Don’t need to talk about it?” He repeated shockingly, more so to himself.

You’d woke up an three hours ago, having been out for almost thirteen hours after you’d passed out. You were a completely different person. You’d shut down, cold, unwilling to talk about what happened. You only wanted one thing, and that was to go home. Eddie didn’t know how to handle it. He knew he shouldn’t push you. You obviously needed time, but Eddie wasn’t a patient man, and he needed you to be okay.

“Please,” Your voice broke, looking over to him with a bruised eye, the skin around your nose red and aggravated. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Eddie, but I am fine. Just forget about it and get me out of here.”

The police had been there as soon as you woke up to question you. Did you recognize your attacker? Had you ever seen him before? What was he wearing? How tall? Did he tell you his name? What was his hair color? So many questions and so little answers. You hardly remembered it, yet you couldn’t seem to forget it.

Eddie had sent Wayne and all of his friends home. You weren’t up for visitors. Frankly, you were scaring Eddie. You seemed pissed, angry at the world and broken, not able to be fixed. You had a look in your eye that you’d never had before.

“I’ll go get the doctor.” He said tiredly. He didn’t sleep a wink in that uncomfortable chair.

Eddie left you alone then, leaving the room with a heavy sigh. He found your doctor at the front desk giving check out papers to another patient. “Dr. Grant?” Eddie called, gaining the female doctors attention. “How much longer till Y/n can leave?”

“We want to keep her just a few more hours for observation.” She checked her clipboard. “Just until we get the results of her head ct.”

Eddie nodded, not wanting to tell you the news of having to stay longer. He looked like a shell of a man, broken, eyes red rimmed and lips cracked from chewing on them. “I don’t know what to, doctor.” He looked to the floor. “She won’t talk to me.”

Dr. Grant frowned at Eddie, pulling him to the side so they could sit in the waiting room. She put her clipboard down on her lap. “Mr. Munson it will take some time before y/n will feel comfortable with talking. I can assure you that it’s perfectly normal in rape victims to shut down.”

He visibly cringed at her choice of words. Rape victim. You were a rape victim.

“I’m going to give you some paper work that may help you help her.” She smiled, placing a comforting hand on his knee. “I know it seems impossible, Mr. Munson, but eventually she will be okay again. It’ll just take time.”

Dr. Grant left the pamphlets on his lap as she left for her rounds. He looked down to find brightly colored pieces of paper, the words rape and assault plastered all over them. He got up quickly when his eyes teared up, disappearing into the bathroom and shoving the papers in his pocket.

Take time, it certainly did.

•

You acted as if nothing happened. You went on about your daily chores, cooked meals and cleaned the trailer. You were pretending, acting. Eddie couldn’t pretend nor could he forget. He was trying to be patient, that’s what the pamphlets told him. Be patient and understanding. But Eddie saw right through you. You weren’t that good of an actress.

He could see how broken you were, the look in your eyes was shattered and gone. The aches in your body you pretended weren’t there, how uncomfortable you were sleeping in the same bed with him. He offered to sleep on the couch and you’d nearly bitten his head off, saying you were fine and he was overreacting. All you were was angry when he talked to you. When anyone talked to you.

When it got late, when everything had been done for the day, you’d sit outside on the porch and stare up at the sky, smoking your pack of cigarettes that you’d swiped from Hopper a few weeks prior. You’d stay out there past midnight. Eddie hadn’t even seen you cry. You didn’t cry or get sad, only angry. That’s all you ever were.

You spent a lot of time in the shower, hours at a time during the night when you thought he was asleep. He never was. Neither of you slept peacefully anymore. You were barely eating. You tried, tried to keep up appearances to prove that you were okay, but you were slipping. It was getting harder and harder.

It had only been three days, but Eddie was starting to loose it. He couldn’t handle watching you fade away so quickly.

It was late when he finally had dozed off, but your absence in the bed woke him. His hand reached out to find you, only feeling the blanket and pillow. His eyes squinted in the dark, his heart beginning to race. Where were you?

He found you in the living room, one single lamp on that made your face an orange color, staring off into space with a blanket wrapped around you. Eddie frowned, turning on the kitchen light that made you jump slightly.

He tried to ignore the way you stiffened when he sat down, sitting a few feet away from you. He stared at you the entire time, trying to read your face. You looked broken. Utterly broken and so, so sad.

“Sweetheart,” Eddie began, sighing deeply. “I can’t keep watching you like this. I’m trying to…give you time, but it’s killing me watching you-” He stopped when he felt a lump build in his throat, not wanting to cry in front of you.

“I’m fine.” You dismissed him every time, not wanting to entertain the idea of breaking down in front of him. The mere fact he knew what happened, what everyone knew, made you feel weak and disgusting. Like a huge spotlight was on you. It was the worst feeling you’d ever felt, like you were standing naked on a stage, vulnerable and exposed.

Eddie bit his cheek and looked away. “No, you’re not, Y/n.” He swallowed roughly, looking back to you. “And that’s okay. I know you feel like it’s not, but it is. You don’t have to shut me out. Please, baby, you can’t shut me out.”

You squinted your eyes shut and looked to the wall. “Eddie,” You begged. “I can’t.”

You can’t.

That was the first time you had said that. That you couldn’t talk about it. Your voice had broke, just only a little. It was the first time he’d seen real emotion in three days. He didn’t want to push you, but you had to let it out. There was no way you could keep on living like this. It wasn’t healthy.

Eddie looked toward the window, it was pitch black outside, not even the flood lights were on. They had quit working a few weeks ago and no one had come to fix it yet. He swallowed back anxiety and nausea. “I know you’re scared-”

“No, you don’t.” You snapped, still refusing to look at him. “You don’t know how I feel. Nobody knows how I feel. They’re just trying to be nice.”

“Then tell me, baby.” He begged, placing his hand on your knee.

You shoved it off, storming up and escaping to the bathroom, slamming the door and locking it just as quick. The shower was turned on within seconds, then he heard you crying, trying to muffle it with the sound of your sweater, or maybe it was a towel.

You hated him. You had to. There couldn’t have been no other explanation for your anger and hatred. You blamed him for what happened, for not coming to your rescue sooner, you just wouldn’t admit out loud. He felt like you’d been killed that night, like your very spirit had been snuffed away like a lit match. He missed you. It was his fault. It was because of him. He was the reason your spirit was gone.

He put his head in his hands and cried.

•

“I don’t know what I’m doing, Wayne. She won’t talk to me. She’ll barely even look at me. She won’t let me touch her. She won’t…she won’t tell me what happened. She blames me. I know she does.” Eddie pushed out air between his lips, struggling to breath. He’d showed up to Wayne’s mid panic attack one morning when you refused to get out of bed. The both of you almost broke out in a fight, except you wouldn’t fight. You didn’t have the energy. It had been another three days gone by.

He was sitting on his uncle’s old sofa, going back and forth from putting his head between his knees or fisting his hair with his hands. Wayne was making himself a fresh cup of coffee, watching as his nephew suffer through his anxiety.

“No, buddy, she doesn’t. She’s just hurtin’.” He poured the coffee into his mug.

“Then why won’t she let me in?” He bounced his knee. “Why won’t she let me help her? She blames me.”

“Try to imagine yourself in her shoes, Ed.” Wayne came over, cradling his mug as he pulled out the kitchen chair, sitting himself in front of his nephew.

“I can’t.” Eddie shook his head. “I can’t even begin to imagine what she’s feeling.”

“That’s my point.” His uncle continued, raising his mug. “You don’t have the slightest idea what she’s going through, you’ve got to give her more time. It’s not even been a week yet, buddy. I know you’re anxious to help her. She’s lucky to have you.”

She’s lucky to have you.

He bit his nail nervously, thinking back to leaving you at the trailer, covered in blankets and refusing to get out of bed. He shouldn’t have left you, but he was on the verge of another breakdown and needed his uncle.

“Why is she so angry?” He gulped, his throat dry from his quick breathing. “I’ve never seen her this angry before.”

“Because she doesn’t know how to process what she went through.” Wayne placed his coffee on the table after another sip. “When we’re hurtin’, sometimes it turns to anger. I think you can relate to that, huh?”

He could. With the kind of life he led, his childhood, everything after vecna and the trauma he endured, he knew exactly what his father figure was talking about. When you hurt, when you have nothing else to feel, you get pissed off.

•

When Eddie got back home, he knew you were still in bed. The lights were off, the tv was off. The poor fish you shared hadn’t been fed yet. He quietly walked into your shared bedroom, the sunlight peering through the curtains, illuminating your face. The blankets were tangled around you, your arms hugging the pillow. You stared at the wall into nothingness, s blank look on your face that spoke volumes of emotion. You were heartbroken.

Eddie watched you for awhile, making his way to sit at the foot of the bed. He sat by your feet, putting his hand on your blanket covered ankles, squeezing them reassuringly. “How about something to eat, huh?”

It took you several seconds to respond. “I’m not hungry.”

He would much rather you be angry than like this. A zombie, unwillingly to move or breath, not able to function or communicate with him.

“What about some tea?” He tried, eyes soft and round, his hand softly rubbing circles on your leg.

You cringed under his touch, shaking your head. “I don’t want tea, Eddie.”

Then, Eddie’s throat filled with a ball of sick, but he quickly forced it back down. You said his name with such malice, such hatred and venom that told him everything he needed to know. You did blame him.

His eyes filled with tears and he stared at the wall. “I’m so sorry, baby.” He closed his eyes. “I’m so sorry for everything.”

He’d said it time and time again, but his words came out in a desperation that he hadn’t yet conveyed to you.

“I don’t blame you for hating me.” He sniffled, his curls shaking with the weight of his shoulders. “I’m to blame and-”

“Eddie, please,” You sobbed, making him practically flinch in surprise. You were crying. “Stop it.”

He let out a whimper, falling to his knees so he could kneel at your head. “Honey,” He cried. “My baby girl, I can’t stand the thought of you hating me. Please, angel, just let me take care of you. Talk to me. Let me in.” He was begging you with a cracked, broken voice that made you sob right along with him.

His hand went to touch your cheek, but you flinched and sat up, bringing the blankets up to your chest. “It’s not you, Eddie!” You blubbered, snot running down your nose. “I don’t hate you! You can’t think that! P-please, don’t think that!”

He crawled up on the bed to sit in front of you, hot tears still rolling down his face. “Then why are you shutting me out? We’re supposed to be a team! We promised each other! You promised me and I promised you! Please, baby, I have to know what happened! It’s killing me!”

“I can’t!” You exclaimed, your tousled up hair falling at the sides. “Oh, God, Eddie, I can’t! I can’t talk about it! I can’t do anything! I just want to lay here and die!” You coiled over and wailed broken-heartedly, a song of cries that boiled out of your throat and paralyzed you. You curled up into a ball and practically screamed into the blankets. Eddie was shaking, bringing up a hand to bit as hard as he could, not knowing if you would allow him to touch you,

He placed one hand on you gently, and when you didn’t pull away, he quickly gathered you in his arms. “I’m here, baby. I’m here. I’m here, sweetheart. Just let it out. Let it out, let it out.”

You let him hold you, and in desperation of the moment, you wrapped your arm around his leg to bring the heat of his body flush to yours. You bawled your heart out into him, emptying all your fears and sorrow.

“I- I can’t stop- thinking a-bout him!” You said hysterically, your tears making his jean covered knee damp. “It hurt so-so bad, Eddie!” It sounded like your cries caused you physical pain, your words coming out choppy and broken.

Your bruised ribs ached from your heavy sobs, your hands going to hold your stomach. “God, oh, God, Eddie, I can’t do it! I can’t! I can’t!”

“You don’t have to.” He said firmly, trying to control his own sobs so you could understand him. “You give all that pain to me, okay? You give it all to me. I can handle it. You let me take care of you. I’m always going to take care of you, sweetheart.”

Your bruised nose had started to bleed onto his jeans, going unnoticed from the both of you. You were hyperventilating, shaking and practically convulsing in his arms.

“Come on, baby,” He held you to his chest, your body still curled up against him. “It’s okay, I’m here. Just let it out. Tell me what you need to.”

It hurt. It hurt so bad. He hurt me so bad and I couldn’t stop him. I’m so scared. I’m scared he’s going to find me. I don’t want you to look at me differently. I feel so weak. Please still love me. Please stay with me. Don’t tell anyone I’m afraid.

You cried for so many things, but he listened to every last word you had to offer him. You told him what happened. A man had followed you into the bedroom, forced you down and split your legs apart, punching you in the nose and kneeing you in the ribs, shoving himself inside you like a sword, piercing it’s way into you roughly. You had cried and cried, screamed and begged, till you didn’t, finally going into shock and laying there, taking it.

Eddie had tried his hardest not to breakdown at your confession, but he could only do so much. He held you into the dark of night, promising what he had said. He was always going to take care of you.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #stranger things season four #joseph quinn #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x y/n #female reader #i’m always going to take care of you

[mochinomnoms]

Shrimpy Chronicles: Ama and the Sun

Octopolycue x Shrimpmer!Reader (Main: Azul x Reader)

Synposis:

"Ama, they liked the sun. They liked the sun and warmth and all things light. And the days that Ama would go to visit their friends on the surface, they would stay up just for a bit longer. Coral would stay in their arms, as her fathers and sister dove back down in the water, back in the darkness, and watch Ama close their eyes and feel the sun on their skin. She thinks she understands a bit. The sun, big and bright, hurts her eyes. But the rays feel like kisses on her skin, warm and comforting. Afterwards, her Ama would always hold her close and dive back down. Her Ama was always sad after being in the sun." or Your daughter notices that you yearn for the sun and the surface more than her other parents do, and learns why.

Takes place after "Mating Season", different timeline from "The Delights of being a 'Zuzu'". Neither are necessarily needed to understand the story, but are helpful for some context.

[wc} - 1,818

[cw/tags] - gn!reader, reader is referred to Ama but has they/them pronouns, mild angst, has a happy ending, in daughter's p.o.v., Jade and Floyd mentioned but not seen in story (implied poly!octotrio x reader), Azul is referred to Baba/Zuzu, reader comes from a happy family in their world, i also didn't edit lol

[notes] - I wanted to write something very simple for coming off my hiatus! I have a lot of strong thoughts about preserving something like my culture and language. I imagine that for a Yuu with a strong family bond, having to accept that they can't go home and lose not only their family, but their culture and language, is quite devestating. For people in our world that have to leave their homes to go somewhere else, sometimes they forget bits of that and want to make sure that their kids know and love where they come from out of desperation to maintain that connection. I wanted to write a little something about that, hope yall like it!

Written while listening to "Shelter" by Porter Robinson and Madeon, I recommend listening to it while reading :)

There was something about the warmth of the sun that Coral was drawn to. She wasn’t sure why, her sister, Pearl, didn’t have the same inclination, nor did her fathers. Her Baba Zuzu might’ve been an exception, but he also was perfectly fine to stay in the dark, cold depths of their home. 

But Coral was like her Ama. They shared a lot of similar traits, like their shrimp merforms and the color of their skin. The strand along her bangs even matched the color of Ama’s hair, pretty stark against the rest of Coral’s teal hair. Though, her twin Pearl also had the same strand, just on her opposite side. 

But still, Coral was Ama’s baby girl. Coral never said it to anyone other than Pearl, but Ama was her favorite parent. And Ama?

Ama, they liked the sun. They liked the sun and warmth and all things light. Sometimes, when Ama thought no one was looking, they would gaze out the window and stare at the sunlight filtering through the water, making green and blue streaks glitter during the day. 

And the days that Ama would go to visit their friends on the surface, they would stay up just for a bit longer. Coral would stay in their arms, as her papas and sister dove back down in the water, back in the darkness, and watch Ama close their eyes and feel the sun on their skin. 

Coral tried to copy them once. She thinks she understands a bit. The sun, big and bright, hurts her eyes. But the rays feel like kisses on her skin, warm and comforting. 

Afterwards, her Ama would always hold her close and dive back down. But Coral could see the wet look in their eyes. Her Ama was always sad after being in the sun. 

Coral did her best to make sure they’d never be alone, always going with them to the surface. It was a bonus for Coral too, she got to see her Grandpa Divus and his doggies. Most of the time, though, it was her Goddads Ace and Deuce. They were okay too. 

This time, her Ama and Zuzu were up on the surface to warm up a bit before diving back down after visiting Grandpa Divus. Though, Zuzu still stayed mostly in the water. He rested his arms and chin on the rock while Ama was laying on their back, arms spread and eyes closed as they basked in the sun. 

Coral had taken to hanging on one of Zuzu’s tentacles picking at the skin with her shrimp legs, trying to mimic Ama when they were cleaning her Papa and Dada, though she was starting to fall asleep. 

The warm sun always made her sleepy, and Zuzu’s scratching at her scalp wasn’t helping along with his tentacle rocking her back and forth. But the low voice of Zuzu speaking to Ama caught her attention. 

“You’re going to dry out if you stay too long up here.” He was whispering, like he didn’t want to wake Coral up. So she kept her eyes closed and listened, her earfins wiggling a bit. 

“Mmh.” Ama hummed in response. “It’s fine, just for a bit.”

“A bit has been for almost 30 minutes.” Zuzu sighed, harsher this time. “Please, my dear, come back in the water. Coral’s fallen asleep, we should take her back home.”

“Just a bit longer Azul…please…” Ama sounded sad, the way they sighed. Coral could make out the sound of movement. Maybe Ama turned on their stomach?

“I just need this, okay? The sun and the air.” Coral peaked an eye open up at Ama and Zuzu. She could see that Ama was indeed on their stomach, facing Zuzu as they kept speaking. 

“Didn’t you used to miss the sea when you were at NRC all year? The cool water, the darkness? Floyd would talk about getting homesick, wouldn’t you?”

Zuzu sighed again, holding his cheek in his hand. 

“Sometimes, yes. As much as I didn’t like my natural form then, I missed having ten limbs. Losing 6 of them was a shock. Couldn’t do quite as much as I usually could.”

Ama blinked sleepily as they yawned, the sun was lulling them to sleep too. Coral really took after them. 

“I just miss my home.”

Zuzu was silent, the swaying of his tentacles in the water stopping, and the one rocking Coral slowing down. 

“… Your home is under the sea. You remember that, right?”

“…”

“Angelfish?”

Ama sniffled, their eyes watering as they looked to the side, staring at the shoreline nearby. 

“I know! I know it is, it’s just…”

Tears began flowing from their eyes, their lips quivering as they continued. 

“It’s not that I’m not happy with you all, I am. I really am, I just—” They took a shuddering breath, rubbing the tears from their eyes. “—I had another family before. Parents, siblings, friends, that I will never see again. That my girls will never meet!”

Holding their face in their hands, Ama began tearfully rambling, making Coral’s heart feel funny.

“I had a whole culture, a language, that I can barely remember now. I love my life here, but the longer I’m here, the more I feel like I’m losing a part of myself. Can you imagine that, Azul? Can you imagine remembering the touch of your mother’s hand on your cheek, but her face faded from your mind? She will never get to meet her, you, Jade, or Floyd. She will never meet her granddaughters. She will never know that I’m safe and happy and loved.”

Ama was crying now, hiccuping as Zuzu reached up to cradle their face, pressing his forehead again theirs. He was wiping their tears away, cooing at them like he would when Coral or Pearl had a nightmare.

“And you are so loved, my dear. I can’t begin to imagine how you feel, but know that when the twins and I gave our word to care for you, we meant it.” Zuzu pressed a soft kiss against their lips, giving them a small smile. “We never go back on our word, especially where you are involved.”

Sighing, Ama nodded, holding Zuzu’s hand against them as they kissed his palm. 

“I know, I just hope that somehow, my family knows that. That I’m loved, and safe. And trying to keep their part of me alive.”

Zuzu chuckled softly, one of his tentacles scooping up some water to pour over Ama’s drying tail. 

“Is that why you’ve been teaching them phrases in your language? Pearl was shouting something at Floyd a few days ago after he took the jellyfish she was trying to teeth on. Did you teach her curse words?”

Ama snorted, smiling at him as they reached down to splash some water onto their face, speaking a phrase in the foreign tongue that Ama spoke to them sometimes. 

“No, nothing remotely like that. It means ‘I love you’ in my language. I just told her it’s a bad word, and to never say it. I figured she’d try cussing one of the twins out eventually, so I told her how to say ‘i love you’ instead.”

Zuzu tilted his head as he repeated the words, though he sounded off. Ama giggled at him, shaking their head. 

“No, you gotta click your tongue! Like this.” Ama repeated it, their voice taking on a different tone and accent as they did.

Zuzu repeated it back, sounding closer to Ama’s accent, though they still giggled at him. 

“I’m trying! Don’t laugh!” Zuzu huffed, though Coral could make out the tips of his mouth curl up into a smile. “Say it again, say I love you in your tongue.”

Ama smiled, their skin flushing as they repeated the words.

“Hmm, again.” Zuzu purred, smiling at the shy smile on Ama’s face. They repeated it again. And again as Zuzu kept demanding them to say it again and again, while Ama kept giggling and repeating it back. 

Coral cringed at the display, feeling embarrassed as they shared a long kiss. 

“Ew…Ah!”

Coral yelped as the tentacle that had been cradling her suddenly tightened around her waist and lifted her upside down. Squealing at the sudden change, Coral giggled as Zuzu brought her between them, he looked annoyed as Ama was smiling. 

“I thought you were asleep, were you pretending, you little sneak?” Zuzu clicked his tongue, though based on his smirk, he was more amused than anything. 

“Hehe, noooo~” Coral giggled as she was lowered down into Ama’s arms, who cradled her against their chest and fluttered kisses against their cheeks. “Ah! Ama! That tickles!”

Coral squirmed against their grasp, finally wiggling up as their little legs grabbed onto Ama’s arms to hold herself straight. 

Trying to straighten her face, Coral grabbed Ama’s cheeks with her little hands and, very seriously in her opinion, asked, “Is Ama okay? You were crying about home, do you not like being in the ocean?”

Ama frowned, shaking their head as they gave Coral a smile and bumped their forehead against hers. 

“No, baby, Ama loves being in the ocean. They just miss being a human with their family.”

“Ama was a human?! No way!” Coral gasped, eyes going wide. “I thought that was just for school!”

Coral frowned as she thought back to Ama’s earlier words. 

“Do we have more family far away? In the land? Is that why Ama is so sad?” Coral asked, watching as Ama’s face turned sad, but quickly back to a small smile. 

“Yes, baby, but it’s more complicated than that.” Ama lifted Coral into their arms, sliding down into Zuzu’s arms and tentacles as he lowered them back down into the water. “I’ll tell you more about it when you’re older, okay?”

“Besides,” Zuzu piped up, pressing a kiss into Coral’s forehead. “You’re still due for a nap, Coral, you can wait later.”

Coral pouted, mumbling complaints to herself as they all dove back into the water. 

“But I wanna know noooow…it’s not fair! I’m not—” Coral yawned mid-sentence. “—mmh. Ima not tired…”

One of Zuzu’s tentacles reached over to brush her hair as Ama cradled her closer to their chest, Coral curling against them despite herself. 

“Shush, go to sleep, baby.” Ama cooed as they slowly made their way back home. “I’ll be here when you wake up, and you can ask whatever you want, okay? Sleep my baby.”

Coral blinked sleepily, eyes wandering as she made out the outline of her Ama’s face as they brushed a finger against her cheek. 

Coral thinks she understood what her Ama was saying. She loved Ama’s hands on her cheek. She loved her Ama’s face. She never wanted to forget her Ama’s face. 

Her final thought, before finally falling asleep to the image of Ama’s smiling face, was how warm her Ama made her feel. Like her own personal sun. 

comments and reblogs appreciated 🩷

#mochi fic #twst #twisted wonderland #jade leech #floyd leech #azul ashengrotto #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #jade leech x reader #floyd leech x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #jade/azul #floyd/azul #octotrio #octopolycule #shrimpy chronicles

[sixeyescurseuser]

part 2

“Satoru? What color are your eyes?” Geto asks one day, when they’re sprawled on the couch together. Gojo’s head is pillowed on Geto’s chest, where the snakes happily nestle in Gojo’s fluffy hair. 

“Hm, blue.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Geto is silent for a long moment. 

“I bet they’re magnificent,” Geto says, then startles when Gojo lifts up slightly, one hand tugging underneath the blindfold. “Satoru, whatever you’re planning to do, stop it.”

“Darling, I’ll keep my eyes closed, I promise,” Gojo solemnly swears. He waits until Geto gives his consent before lifting the blindfold off, diligently keeping his eyes glued shut.

Geto observes the shape of his lover’s closed lids, how his eyes contribute to his facial structure, and the white color of his lashes. 

“Pretty, right?”

Geto nods. “Hn.”

Geto still doesn’t trust himself without the trusty barrier of the blindfold.

Thus, he brings a hand up to cover Gojo’s closed eyes, and leans in for a kiss.

***

Gojo buys Geto a pair of his own special-grade glasses that block Geto’s entire field of vision, ensuring he can see perfectly fine while others will never make direct eye contact with him. 

It’s certainly an adjustment for Geto because the glasses, shaped like visors, feel very restricting. His snakes hiss at the glasses because they don’t don’t like not being able to see Geto’s eyes. 

But the glasses do give Geto more confidence in leaving the cottage to prevent him from freezing any innocent bypassers. 

***

Once, when Geto is out on his own, he spots a couple kids wearing the same style uniform as Gojo often does. Jujutsu Tech!

Geto decides to watch over them. 

Thank fucking god he did, because there’s no way in hell whoever the fuck is in charge just let these kids walk straight into a curse’s domain. 

Before Yuji switches with Sukuna, Geto intercepts and annihilates the other special grade, even without the powers of his eyes. Once the job is done, Yuji jogs up to his side.

Yuji: “Hey, thank you so much-GAH?“

At the speed of light, Geto pulls Yuji out of the crumbling domain and disappears.

The first years are completely bamboozled by what happened!

(Yuji: “Gojo-sensei, that special curse showed up again today! Well it didn’t need to help because Kugisaki and Fushiguro and I had everything handled, but I could feel it watching. Isn’t that weird?”

Gojo: “Huh, that is strange indeed.”)

Afterward, Geto presents Sukuna’s finger to Gojo. Gojo realizes Geto was looking after his students, and falls even deeper in love with him. 

***

Yuuta learned early on who Geto was because once Geto was watching over him but Rika was not having it! 😭

She was like “Who is this beetch?” and tries to off Geto, who flees and never looks back. 

The snakes want to pick a fight with Rika so badly, but Geto has to shush them because he’s not sure even HE could take on this kid’s curse. 

Also, Geto is technically supposed to be exorcized. That’s what Gojo told the higher-ups, that he had successfully defeated the infamous curse Geto Suguru. 

Gojo has to do damage control, of course. 

“You have Rika, and I have Suguru,” Gojo says with a shrug. “Simple as that.”

Beside him, Geto’s jaw drops open from the total lack of explanation by the fool that owns his heart. From behind his glasses, Geto pities the way the wheels furiously turn in Yuuta’s mind. 

Rika pops out jus to growl at Geto. 

Great. Good talk everyone. 

Yuuta: “You’re telling me you’re in love with THE special grade, Geto Suguru, who’s been alive for centuries and has been constantly compared to the king of curses, SUKUNA??”

Gojo gives him a thumbs up while Geto smiles with sharp teeth. 

***

Gojo Satoru is known as the strongest sorcerer alive, but that doesn’t stop Geto from being incredibly protective of him. While out on a date, Geto brings up the higher ups that clearly do not give a shit about overworking his beloved.

“Say the word and I’ll kill them.”

“I thought you didn't like killing?” Gojo asks with a cheeky smile. He takes a sip of his milkshake, then bumps his foot against Geto’s under the table. 

“Satoru, I’m a curse and they are assholes. It’s the natural order of things,” Geto sniffs. His snakes hiss in agreement, very excited at the prospect of killing for Gojo. 

Gojo extends his hand out, palm facing up. Geto slides his hand on top. Interlocking their fingers, Gojo conveys all the adoration he can through his uncovered eyes, hoping it penetrates through the special-grade glasses Geto wears.

“I love you too. My one and only.”

***

w/ @no-one-says-hi

#jjk #satosugu #geto suguru #gojo satoru #satosugu fluff #satosugu headcanon #satosugu fanfic #goge #cerdrabbles

[load-theloading-artist]

*Kicks Down Door*

it's me, ya boi, Load.

And I have some things to say.

But i want to mention @-thevyladsafespace for their post;

^^^ this one ^^^

Where they asked what the inspiration(s) was for the boys' outfits. Having a few guesses of their outfits being inspired by chinese/japanese fashion or dnd/generic fantasy style of fashion.

And, in my opinion, yes!

But... also no.

Lemme explain, But first;

I want to talk about their Daemos outfits. And my thoughts/opinions on the...

Starting with their Daemos Outfits;

And starting with

Noi;

who i actually i think his outfit fits Japanese Inspiration the most!

(Before i explain, i want to say i am not from japan or have visited, nor am i an expert, but i have watched MANY videos about japanese culture from LetsaskShogo on youtube! I highly recommend checking him out. He goes into everything about japan, its history, its culture, its fashion, Noh thearte, tea ceremonies, everything!) (Japanese culture is a special interest of mine, ahah)

His left side of his shirt is over his right side, which japanese traditional kimono style of clothing MUST have! (Wearing the left over right is a MUST in their culture, for only the dead or non-living wear the RIGHT side over the LEFT. It therefore symbolizes death.)

The closest reference for his shirt i can find rn is this one; (which if i remember right are called dogi!)

Additionally,

Useing this image as reference;

His pants are very similar to a style/type of Hakama pants (unfortunately, i have forgotten the name of them. I think a name for them was Karusan, but i may be wrong!!)

Image reference of the pants im talking about;

(They were worn by 'samurai' or otherwise japanese soldiers as a better alternative to hakama due to the pants better ease of movement and more suitability armor.)

Other than that though, he doesn't wear anything else that is SIMILAR to traditional japanese fashion.

Onto my opinions and thoughts about his design;

I love Noi's design the most. He is the most well designed out of the boys'. If i were to change his design, i would keep most of it.

He's an 8/10 for me.

Deducted points because WHY? WHY WITH HIS ARM. Omg. no... No. No!! his design literally would've been perfectly okay IF HIS ARM. WASNT-

give him his sleeve back pls... why was it taken away? What crimes did it commit?? Was color contrast against the armor wanted so badly ThEy TOOK AWAY HIS SLEEVE?? That's worse!! That's worse than just leaving his sleeve alone 😭😭😭

In fact, it would look BETTER if the sleeve was kept unyoinked!!

I apologize for how harsh i may sound. But i can't. I just can't.

Moving onto

Pierce;

My second favorite character~

I believe he is the second closest to having most Japanese inspiration.

With his utterly blue coat, that is the main point of interest in his design... that does look a lot like a kimono.

But i sure hope it isn't because the way he's wearing it makes me want to go

"DISHONER ON YOU!! DISHONOR ON YOUR COW!!"

- (mulan/mushu reference)

And that what he SHOULD be wearing would be similar to a Haori-jacket

Which what it looks like;

(The Haori is a traditional japanese hip or thigh length jacket that is typically worn over a kimono.)

His coat is, however, a Kimono's length. (Maybe even a little longer, actually, kimonos typically only reach the ankles. But the way he wears whatever he wears, could make it look longer than it should be or is.)

Additionally his sleeves and;

The absolute abomination his outfits back is. What the genuine *🐬 noise* happened.

The way his the back of the outfit is, it means that if he wears the unworn sleeve, the back will be SO DROOPED!! It would not be funny or sexy 😔

Here is a reference for how a kimono (though with longer/larger sleeves) with one sleeve not being worn would look;

(i am so sorry, but idk who the artist is and can not find them. Googling bee-com led to (i think) a bitcoin website, and katahada nugi was just for information for samurai armor.) (If anyone knows it would be very appreciated!)

*sigh*

Moving onto my thoughts and opinions on Pierce's design;

Pierce's deisgn is... rather simple. Other than the pattern on his pants.

... tbh i dont really know what else to say. It's simple, basic, the coat, arm-brace, and patten on his pants are the only points of interest in his design. (Other than his tattoo but we'll talk about it later.)

I'd rate him 3/10.

There's... Something. Theres a something... But it's not executed well (or at all) in his design. His (disaster of a coat that deducted points) coat and that something, is his saving grace of a few points.

.

.

.

And i WANT TO CONTINUE THIS in the same post and I PROMISE YOU, i am going somewhere i do i do i just,

In order to continue i NEED the photo space, what do i mean? i mean THERES A PHOTO LIMIT OF 10 ON POSTS!!! TUMBLR WHY 10??? 10??? 10 PHOTOS ONLY???

***insert image of a depressed man bent over in a blue school chair meme***

.

.

.

But i hope you stay tuned and to see you in part 2!! (And most likely part 3... oh boy. Im so sorry)

Again, i promise im going somewhere with this i just need time to cook and get the foundations down first. AND THE PHOTO SPAc-

#my inner demons aphmau #aphmau my inner demons #shush load #my inner demons #Google: How to fight Tumblrs post image limit #*sobs* #see you in part 2 and im so sorry #theres alot of things i haven't mentioned that I'll mention in part 2!! i promise. #if there seems to be missing piunts about these two designed i didn't mention its because im waiting til i talk about all 5 of the Boys #daemos outfits #give me time to cook plsplsplsplspls

[cringelordlikesplaz]

patrick o’brian- and several children which may or may not be his

#plastic man #eel o'brian #patrick o'brian #the colors in this one? i did them PERFECTLY #real proud of this one yup #so we've got... #luke o'brian #pado swakatoon #linnya wazzo #edwina #so many fucking hands i had to draw

[liquidstar]

a friend who'd wait :)

#im posting this very late because i was sort of weary of how it came out and ended up messing w it until it was like 4am oops. #and i have plans tmrw so... oh well! i did my best and ill put it out while i can! #and i tried to make the scene match barnard's colors lol #finn's ocs #finn's art #i know i said id do more sillay stuff with the simpler screentone only style but i had a couple more of these in me #and this is the first piece im making thats like an actual part of the story too rather than just setting stuff for fun #i wanna write something to go with it too but for now ill just sort of briefly explain the context in the tags here: #barnard has a pretty bad case of OCD and his compulsions have made it difficult to make friends in the past #he was never outright bullied or anything but people just didnt really have the patience to deal with it #he has compulsions that include stuff like walking through doors until it feels right and needing things to be perfectly aligned #which in group settings has lead to people having to wait for him to finish his rituals and join them #they might find it tolerable at first but eventually they grow impatient and hes just... not invited to stuff anymore #but juno is a newer member of the guild who ends up frequenting the same library. hes also kinda a little weird #and they dont become fast friends or anything but just sort of naturally spend time in the same place #though they never plan meetups they eventually fall into a routine. around the same time theyd just both be at the library #and read next to each other. and maybe talk a bit. and eventually they end up walking back to the guildhall together #since theyre going to the same place after all. and juno always waits for barnard outside the door #eventually barnard asks if this bothers him. juno kinda just tells him 'of course it does' without any malice or anything. just a statement #barnard is surprised and apologizes and juno says not to. but the next day juno doesnt show up at the usual time. #barnard assumes hes committed somekinda more by bringing it up. he ends up staying there late reading to get his mind off it & not ruminate #but when he leaves juno is in fact still waiting for him down the hall (see pic) having collected a bunch of books literally abt ocd #he fell asleep bc barnard stayed later than expected. and hes an eepy guy generally. and also one very bad at expressing himself #but now barnard gets that juno's 'of course it [bothers me]' had the implication of 'but its worth it' which no friend has previously done. #and from the interaction juno was also able to understand that this isn't something barnard just does for the hell of it so. he studies. #and checks a bunch of stuff out because he thinks it could help his friend too (theres ocd workbooks and such- i remember working w them) #and thats the point where they became more ''friends'' than ''pleasant library acquaintances'' #from there on they also do get into juno's problems. whole other bag of worms. but this specific scene is more about bernard from his pov #sorry about when i said briefly explain. i lied </3 #but compared to the whole sequence im picturing its brief so shhh

[miiints-repostiory]

WOAH MORE TSP ART HII!!! And these designs are MINE for once? unbelievable

Meet my Narrator and Stanley! They're some silly guys, I love them very much and I hope they can make some friends in the paraverse soon 👉👈

SPEAKING of which, the two lovelies that my narry is simping over are Rosemary and Nathan who belong to the wonderful @tomi-chuu and @callixspod respectively!

i love them so much and feel so normal about them <3 Haven't got a name for my narry yet but im working on it

#mints art stuff #tsp #the stanley parable #tsp stanley #tsp narrator #i have actual refs for them both but im gonna color those. later #this one image took way too long bc school has been taking up all of my time #so cringe i just wanna draw silly little gay people #this was totally not an excuse to draw rosemary again. what are you talking about #i feel perfectly normal about her #i'm gonna have to make another mass narry drawing bc there are just so many cool ones out there #so look out for that i geuss! #whenever i post the refs ill talk more about stanley and narry specifically cause i do have some thoughts in my brain #oh also i did closeups this time! i like it much better #just remembered that BOTH of the ppl hes simping for are married/engaged #f in the chat

[beardedhandstoadshark]

Genuine question because I‘ve seen this hc around…not frequently enough to be fanon per se, but often enough to notice it-

Where did the whole "8bit Link lives in a wasteland/Hyrule is a barely livable wasteland“ thing come from?

As in, nature is dead, the water is toxic, Link‘s shunned by the people, that sort of Mad Max/Fallout type wasteland. Because if you play the games or even just look at the maps, that’s not the case at all? Like, here’s the Zelda 1 map:

Those parts circled in cyan? They’re almost all trees. Out of all screens, only 4 don’t qualify as woods, 2 of which are Fairy Fountains. The other two areas are a clearing in the woods and a pathway to the (extremely tiny) desert, respectively. Both however still have very green trees. Ironically the most "dead“ part of the tree areas is the Lost Woods of all places, on the very right just under the graveyard lol.

The upper half of the map doesn’t have trees because it’s a giant mountain- a giant mountain with a waterfall leading to the giant lake and presumably where the woods underneath get their water from, so probably not murder-juice, and the lower right corner‘s a beach that (Just like the desert) still has some sort of functioning ecosystem going on given the enemies are probably just in their natural habitat there.

But the real kicker is Adventure of Link.

The light green‘s grasslands, Hyrule Field style, and the dark green tiles are very dense, lush woods. But then there’s a third type of green tile, the ones circled. Stretching acres of plants that have grown so big they not only hide enemies from sight, but even slow Link down.

Those are flower fields. (Swamps. Turns out they’re swamps! Not as conventionally pretty as flower fields, but just as much filled with life!)

I don’t think there’s a single other version of Hyrule that has as many flowers as this one, bar perhaps the Switch games. But even then, proportionally speaking AoL‘s got more percentages of land covered.

Maybe the water isn’t poisoned but the opposite, because there’s definitely fish living in those ponds and just like the plants, they’re very big. May I dare say they’re chonky bois. Very annoying ones, probably the enemy I died most to, but very chonky, and presumably getting a lot of food. Plus, the towns have fountains, and there’s a cave with a healing water spring somewhere.

Speaking of towns! Links not being chased out at all, quite the opposite in fact! My man’s getting premium healthcare, for free! And sometimes the people you can talk to call him a hero! Teach him sick moves and cool spells for his quest! One even gifts him a magic container! That’s like a whole heart container, but for magic! Also, once again, some of the towns have fountains. Therefore, they have a properly working water system of some sort, which means the structures gotta have been in place for a while.

That fact is further cemented if you look back at the map, as those yellow lines are roads. Real, actual roads where monsters can’t fight you. Every single town minus one is connected to the road. (And Old Kasuto is connected). This land is better connected than every other place in this entire series. Half of them don’t even have roads!

In many ways, 8bitrule resembles Switchrule a lot- most likely because it was a deliberate choice to go "back to the roots“, not just to the beginning, but also to the only other open world games in the series.

And just like its grand tech-filled counterpart, the Kingdom of Hyrule might be in ruins, but the land of Hyrule- it’s not a wasteland, it’s thriving.

#the legend of zelda #adventure of link #legend of zelda #…This turned into a whole analysis lol #really though where did that hc COME from? #is it because of the nes colors being drab? #but so are the n64 games and no one says that about them? #in fact N64 stans complain about the remakes making them TOO lively?? #confusion #is it because Zelda 2 is the dark s/ouls of Zelda and ds got lots of death #Theres Old Kasuto town ig but New Kasuto is doing great #like. the town got destroyed so the townsfolk just. Built a completely NEW one #they’ve got RESOURCES #was it the old men living in caves in Zelda 1 #i bet it was the old men living in caves in Zelda 1 #but even so one they apparently have perfectly functional doors #that Link can break down #and pay way too many rupees for the repairs for #so it’s most likely just gameplay mechanics and not actual caves #or they just Live Like That #OR that particular part of the land happened to be a very remote and abandoned one #because a giant pig dude likes to chill at the mountain that’s like 5min away from them #zelda 2 my beloved #i stand by this

[jrueships]

i’m revealing myself as the Jimmy Licking Anon (😭), but like… LOOK??? HIS INSTA STORIES??? HELLO??? CAN YOU BLAME ME???

URE JIMMY LICKING ANON ??!?!?!?????YOU wROTETHIS

you talking about jarebears thighs so highly.... i think... i know what you are .

but i also know you are SOMEONE OF GOOD TASTE !!!!! which means legally i am not allowed to laugh at the jimmy licking anymore 😭 he is very pretty like a mythical deity kind of.. Greek statue sense. Like marble perfection but obsidian (LMFAO) he usually plays with athletic leggings that show some calves... ong he is teasing us 😭 good thing they thin sometimes (the leggings)... 😼. His insta stories are always so aesthetic, there's no way he's not beautythirstposting on purpose here!!! Him n deebo are probably one of the few athletes on YouTube who post actually pretty thumbnails and not... the typical ugly BIG REACTION FACE EXCLAMATION POINT QUESTION MARK photos.. their competition .. deebos is a lot more philosophical and bojack horseman analysis video thumbnaily while Jimmy's is kinda gq style. His insta stories are definitely manic pixie dream girl. He loooves posting romanticized photos of his life without regret. He wants you trapped in his web of coffee and legs and tennis yoga 😭 but u seem more than fine with that so it's okay 😭😭

U SHOULD COMMENT THE WATERMELON CRUSHING ON HIS YOUTUBE LMAO, HE'D DEFINITELY DO IT FOR YOU!!! and the views.. like. Let's be honest he's probably not getting out of that finals with a ring. Let's give him ideas of things to do that'll make him AND his viewers... Very Happy . . It'll be a win win!! he'll get views!! you'll get fantasies LMAO

ty for having the courage not only to type this but to out urself with a photo, u thought it was so sexy (AND I CAN SEE IT), i look at this ask whenever jimmy needs help. id love to hear more about your jaren thigh thoughts... BECAUSE THEY ARE QUITE UNAPPRECIATED, meTHINKS and ure so insane for pointing them out U ARE MORE REAL THAN ANYONE WHO CLAIMS TO BE!!! i loved this ty

#how did he manage to match his hat with the tone of his shorts and body 😭😭 is tjis some sortof cool filter or smthing #i hate him hes so #like how is deebo supposed to compete #with someone who looks like he likes the color green #people who like the color green combine chatoicness and elegance so perfectly it's insane #jade green tends to be a fav of more aesthetically people and bright like ivy green is very peopley #but theres still an artistic refinement to them #it's very jimmy #he'd probably save this ask (bcs he obvi follows me on tumblr for his sugard*ddy tips) and print it out #then tape it to his mirror #full length ofc #so he can do little 360s and go mhmmm at his legs #not him showing off having more than one phone LOL #maybe he texted u on one of them.. u never know!! #maybe HES obsessed with U!! #he wouldnt be wrong not to! #ted asks #the Passion... i love it #jimmy

[froqgy]

my toxic trait is looking up other flight rising fandragons and going "haha mine is better and also has so many layers to it"

#ok my own fandragons are ib trio and dante and vergil but i put so much thought into them all. i also have a brionne adjacent one kinda #theres only one ill admit is better. which is a garry one... perfectly matching colors AND its a gen 1 too... #mine is the least accurate of the trio bc of colors and also outfit.. #i didnt want to use brown pants bc they didnt go w the colors the way ib's and mary's did 🤧

[two-calicos-in-a-trenchcoat]

Any rock can be an anti anxiety healing crystal when you're autistic

#i stim with the rocks #i see rock #anxiety goes down #i hold rock #i click rock against other rock #i had some thin pieces of agate my grandpa got me from a cave gift shop once and i would literally just sit on my bedroom floor #surrounded by all my rocks and just hold the agates up to the light to look at all the pretty colors #just watch tv while rubbing the smooth rocks against my cheek #i had a piece of a counter top that broke at a house that was being built that my grandpa was doing the plumbing at #one side of it was shaped in a way that it perfectly fit the bottom part of my palm in the way it curved #idk what happened to it #its ok tho i have a lot of rocks that are good for stimming #just 💜💜💜💜💜💜rocks my beloved💜💜💜💜💜 #i still wanna polish my giant chunks of rose quartz #to be fair i dont only do these things when im axious #i did like to carry my smooth rocks in my pockets at school tho #i liked to fidget with them in class #also the sound of a rock clicking against a desk 🤌🤌🤌🤌 #or my pocket watch chains. i liked fidgeting with those too #had to make sure charles didnt see them tho or hed get after me for having a chain #he never got after any of the guys who wore chains on their wallets but the kid carrying a pocket watch was CLEARLY a threat #the other security guard didnt give a shit #he thought it was cool #got right up in my face about it too. like literally marched over to me got right into my space and grabbed the chain and was like #''yOu CaNt HaVe ThIs. PuT iT aWaY.'' #like charles my guy i could point out like 3 guys in this room that have pocket knives on them #i dont think my pocket watch chain is any of your concern #started wearing chains on my boots just for you charles 💜💜💜

[stirdrawsandreblaws]

seeing a lot of misinfo posts surging in the wake of Site Owner's Tantrum but there's a single point i keep seeing over and over that i really want to address:

tumblr banning users posing as black activists who were actually paid workers for the russian "internet research agency" is not some shit they made up to ban black activists

that was a very real psyop across multiple social media sites, and there were multiple governments and investigation orgs involved in tracking them down.

do not put actual black activists in the same fucking category as political catfishers who used uninvolved peoples' photos (putting them at risk of personal harm) while intentionally spreading misinfo and attempting to disrupt anti-racist and anti-fascist action, among other things

#i do not fucking trust anyone spreading that 'oh they were actually legit accounts' shit and neither should you #especially after seeing the level of misinfo and the danger to people whose pics had been stolen and used like holy fucking shit #if you care about queer people and people of color you need to care about people impersonating them for ill intent #and not sit there and go 'well the ceo is an idiot therefore we've been lied to this whole time about Absolutely Everything' #lemme be perfectly fuckin honest with you: im not even sure he was telling the truth about the mod selling moderator actions #it could be true. it could also be him trying to make up something big that he thought would make him look totally-not-transphobic #so like. broadly speaking i do not and will not take his word for Anything At All Whatsoever. BUT. i follow a lot of staff and ex-staff #(many of whom were fired or quit) and i believe what they agree on and corroborate across multiple accounts-- #especially the ones who got fired. they don't have any reason to lie or cover anyone on current staff's ass. #and i have yet to see any of them speak out on the veracity of that particular moderator's existence so i'm withholding judgment on it #but i did see many of them (+news outlets) talk about the russian troll accounts & evidence after the mass ban. so i believe that #anyway all i'm asking is for y'all to consider your sources--and their possible motives/sources/biases--and do research on your own #rather than rolling with what feels good to believe or what you think justifies your anger. arm yourself w/ facts whenever possible.

[inkskinned]

the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.

three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.

two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.

their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.

one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.

i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.

i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.

and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?

you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.

a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.

someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.

#writeblr #warm up #this is longer than i wanted i really considered removing that part about myself and what i went thru #but i think it really fucking bothers me that EVERY time i talk about being an artist #ppl assume i just like. had the skill and ability to drop everything and pay for grad school. #like sir i grew up poor. my house wasn't a safe space. i gave up a FREE RIDE TO LAW SCHOOL. for THIS. bc i chose it. #was it fucking hard? was i choosing the hard thing?? yes. #but we need to stop seeing artists as lazy layabouts that can ''afford'' to just ''sit around and create'' #when MANY - if not MOST - of us are NOT like that. we have to work our fucking ASSES off. hard work. long and hard work #part of valuing artists is recognizing the amount we sacrifice to make our art. bc it doesn't just #like HAPPEN to us. also btw it rarely has anything to do with true talent. #speaking as someone with a chronic condition i hate when ppl are like u have it easy. like actively as i'm writing this my hands r #ACTIVELY hurting me. i haven't been posting bc my left hand was curled in a claw for the last week #this isn't fucking luck. after a certain point it's not even TALENT. it's dedication & sacrifice. #''u get to flounce around and do nothing with ur life'' is a narrative that is a direct result of capitalism #imagine if we said that about literally any other profession. #''oh so u give up 10 yrs of ur life to be a doctor? u sacrifice having a social life and u get SUPER in debt? #u need to work countless hours and it will often be thankless? well i wish i was that lucky'' #we should be applying that logic to landlords ONLY #''oh ur mom and dad gave u the money to buy a house? and all u did was paint it white and rent it? huh.''

[roturo]

-; ੈ♡˳ MINISKIRT

JJK MEN REACTING TO YOU TEASING THEM WITH A MINISKIRT! ★༉‧₊˚✧

(gojo satoru, geto suguru, choso kamo, nanami kento)

contents: smut, nsfw, sub behavior, PRAISE, miniskirts, unprotected sex, cunnilingus, whimpering, overstimulation, edging, jealousy, sub-space, fluff, possesive behavior, all of them being DOWN for you, and lovesick for you.

A/N: wrote this while watching the office and drunk so npr, and proabably took so long to write because of this.

gojo satoru

He knows what you’re trying. That’s why he doesn’t give in. And it’s much more difficult when that tiny miniskirt is the color of his eyes, matching perfectly with a top as small as your skirt of his hair color.

Bending over the table just so he could see the matching panties while you ‘try to have a closer look to what Nanami is showing you’ – And he doesn’t know what angers him more, the fact you’re doing this to annoy him and probably other people behind you are watching your panties which he’s trying to cover with his body, or the fact Nanami is more likely watching your tits through that tiny top you’re wearing right now. 

He pinches the back of your thigh, making you squeak and sit again as a reaction– looking to your side finding Satoru giving you a glare easily expressing ‘stop what you´re doing’ – and maybe that’s what makes you more eager to tease him now that you’re feeling the wetness coming out of you.

And you know he’s suffering right now. Not only because he’s jealous, but because you’re giving a small piece to someone else of what he supposed it was his.

“Nngh- please baby, i’m sorry- but I couldn’t stand him watching how precious you looked” His cries went to deaf ears as you rode him, edging him for the third? fourth? time. He had some ‘childish’ (that’s what you called it) outburst because he couldn’t stand you teasing him like that, and suddenly after pinching your thigh moved you towards his lap after you sat so you could feel his raging erection and broke Nanami’s chair with the cursed energy he couldn’t control coming out of his body. Something completely new for him.

“Please princess, it was just- You’re so beautiful I can’t let anyone to- I… I just can’t get enough of you.” He ghosted his lips with yours, trying to kiss them but you wouldn’t let him. You were close to another orgasm too, he was yearning for your touch, begging to whatever god stronger than him so you could give him permission to cum.

Who would’ve thought, huh? 

If Mahito, Sukuna or any of those fuckers watched him lose control to a girl they woulc’ve laughed at his face, but if they experienced how good it was to be inside of you, feeling your liquids coat him and his pelvis while they come out of you— even though you don’t let him cum, they would’ve understand. 

But he won’t let them get even 2 meters near you.

You started kissing his neck, marks that will be very prominent in just some hours, his whimpers bringing you to heaven even with how slow you rode him, just one thrust and he swears he could cum– overstimulation taking the best of him, you just pecked his lips one time and did as what he imagined and failed to keep it in.

“Aw baby, you ruined it! Why couldn’t you wait for me? Wanted to cum so badly? It’s okay, but cum again, okay? Be my good boy and make me cum again mhm?”

geto suguru

Are you doing this on purpose? Or you don't really notice? He swears people could see his raging erection from 10 meters afar, quirks of having a big cock, i guess.

And it’s so fucking embarrasing trying to hide it with the shopping bags you gave him to carry, not only he looked in an awkward position while walking, but the friction– and having you infront of him walking with that mini skirt, would make everyone crazy.

He swears he could just cum while walking and watching your hips move and tease him with your body. 

But you just were clueless. Getting excited to find the store you were looking for and do small jumps which had him rolling his eyes to conceal his need for you.

And he was getting needy. Spraying kisses all over your neck when he back-hugged you, he was making it obvious now! Rubbing himself on you, he needed it.

When you finally arrived home, he couldn’t stand it anymore, throwing away the bags somewhere in the kitchen carrying you– having to steady yourself by grabbing what you could from his back and not fall face into the floor while your legs were hanging on his front.

He carried you all the way into your bedroom and dropped you down softly on your bed while he plastered kisses all over your thighs mumbling about how much he missed being between your thighs and how you’ve been playing games with him this entire day.

You were suddenly overcome with excitement. Your clit throbbed and you desperately needed release. Your breath hitched in anticipation. All you could think about was letting Geto finally give you what you’ve been planning this whole day. 

“You’re so perfect. So perfect f´me– and all you been doin’ this day was tease me with that tiny skirt of yours baby- had to control myself to not go crazy over ya’”

At times like this, where Geto is kneeling right in front of you with his face buried in the middle of your legs, you are grateful that you lived alone. Because it means you don’t have to hold back your moans when Geto swipes his tongue on your clit. You don’t have to hold back as he roams his tongue around your entrance.  You know you genuinely lost it when he wrapped his lips around your bud, giving it a hard suckle that made your hips bucked. Out of instinct, your hand went to his hair. Gripping around the strand of it just to push his head closer to your cunt, letting the tip of his nose pressed against it. 

He inhaled, he fucking inhaled to let your scent filled his nose as if his tongue isn’t enough to make you feel stars.  Soon enough, you are on your knees, with your face buried on your pillow, tears pooling around your teardox as Geto has his mouth back to your pussy. His tongue moves in and out your hole to build up your orgasm. 

“What happened to my teasing girl mhm?”

choso kamo

Poor him. How did he end up in this situation? He swears all he did was give a small peek through your skirt because how couldn’t he?!

You were bending in front of him! And you’re even meaner because you know he has a crush for you since….ever. Kinda embarrassing to be honest. Because he acts like a kid having a crush, even worse, like when a little kid had a crush on their old brothers/sister friends… 

But. He won't lie he loves when you punish him like this. Because you praise him for being such dork for you. 

"It's okay, baby, you're doing so well for me right now," you lean down and place small kisses on his tear-stained cheeks, his red nose with his black mark and his eyelids eliciting a broken sob from him, "Think you can handle a little while longer, puppy?"

And he’s not thinking very clearly right now– Not when you’re pumping his cock in that tempo that has him seeing stars and crying out loud for you.

“yesyesyesy princess– oh my god- oh my fucking god… i´m sosososoooo lucky to be here with you baby, I love you soo much, i’m so, fuck, nngh!”

He was coming for a fifth? six? time right now. He swears he heard something about you telling him you won’t stop jacking him off until he cums dry. 

Choso looked at you, sniffing and wrapping his hand around yours, "But I want to fuck you now..." He mumbled barely audible to you, and you had to close your eyes and take a deep breath or you would've done what he told you to.

And he’s fucking excited for that. To fucking lose his mind and body to you. To dump all his cum wherever and whenever you wanted.

nanami kento

This little fucking pervert! He acts like this ‘oh so mature guy’ when he’s just as down for you as you are for him. He tried not to fall for you once he saw you for the first time in a mission both of you coincidentally crashed into. Being from another part of the world and suddenly connecting through these annoying curses.

But what annoyed him the most was how ‘inappropriate’ you are while working. Wearing those miniskirts of different colors for work. For work!

How is he supposed to focus? How is he supposed to train? Not when you’re moving your legs with that skirt that barely covers your butt and he easily sees the figure of it and your lips begging to be released to be tasted. By him. 

And you finally have him where you wanted, right between your legs. 

Your moans echo inside your bedroom, and maybe tomorrow you will have your neighbor file a noise complaint to you, but you didn’t mind. To have Kento’s attention only to you worth everything. 

At first, Kento wasn't the biggest fan of the size difference between you two, he felt almost too big compared to you.

Well, that was before he knew how good could fuck your needy cunt.

You were just barely holding onto his shoulders, leaving scratch marks that he would not even bother covering up, holding you with ease against the wall. "That's right, bunny, say my name and mark me, let everyone know I'm all yours, let them hear how good I fuck you," Kento whined and clung to you, feeling his cock pumping in and out of your small body, tilting his head forward to look down at the connection between your bodies.

The obvious outline of his length on your lower belly made him roll his eyes to the back of his head, your trembling legs wrapping around his hips, keeping his cock buried deep inside your pulsing pussy, feeling it wanting to milk every drop of his cum.

"Fuck me, more... I need more of your cock kento, please~!"

#gojo satoru smut #geto suguru smut #choso kamo smut #nanami kento smut #gojo smut #geto smut #choso smut #nanami smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #gojo satoru #geto suguru #nanami kento #choso kamo #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader #nanami kento x reader #choso kamo x reader #satoru gojo #suguru geto #kento nanami #kamo choso #gojo x reader #geto x reader #choso x reader #nanami x reader #romy's writings

[isuckatwritingsobenice]

Infernal Shadows

Synopsis: Being one of the most powerful overlords in Hell, you like to keep up with colonies and overlord plans. Recently with the new extermination date out, you hold your annual gala sooner than usual. You hadn’t expected to get in the middle of the already heated feud between the Radio Demon and the head of Vox Tech.

Warnings: She/Her pronouns used for the reader, mentions of blood, voodoo?, Angel Dust being a horn-bag, Reader is referred too as Madame to the public. Vox and Alastor feud because I live for it.

Song for this chapter: The world we knew by Frank Sinatra.

A/N: I wanna make this a three part short story, so if anyone is interested in being tagged in the second part just let me know!! I hope you enjoy!!

Word count: 2655

Navigation!! // Masterlist!!! // Serendipity Writes (event) // Part two

Getting an invite to the annual crimson ball, hosted by yours truly, was nothing but an honor. Every overlord and every sinner in the pride ring waited anxiously for a letter. A black card with white letter in a cursive font stating ‘You have been personally invited by Hells biggest designer. The list of the gala was simple. The usual overlords, Zestial, Carmilla Carmine and her daughters, Zeezie, Rosie, Fredrick Von Eldritch and Bethesda von Eldritch. Alastor who had came back after seven years of hiding god knows where, and by special request, the three vee’s who had never attended the gala before. Then it becomes a bit more political.

Next on the list was the Goetia family, inviting the recently divorced prince with his daughter. Inviting Lucifer and Lilith, though they only ever came when everyone was gone. Then was their daughter Charlotte, who got a plus one as a special perk of being the princess of hell. Husk because he had been an old friend of yours before his status of Overlord was taken from him by none other than Alastor. He was also given a plus one, though he usually never brought anyone extra. Sir Pentious was a candidate, but ultimately scrapped from your list of invites as you felt he was too childish.

The gala was tonight and everything was going smoothly. Preparations were almost done, the foyer was spotless just the way you liked it, and everything seemed to be falling into place. You stared at yourself in the mirror. You had spent months designing your perfect dress for tonight. Everyone attending the gala knew there was only ever one color off limits, because you always wore it best. The color black always suited you perfectly. No one could wear it better than you.

Back at the hotel, Charlie felt guilty for using her authority as princess to have people help her get ready for this gala. Based on what Alastor had told her, there would be a lot of political powers and fellow overlords there. She wanted to look her best if she was going to pitch the hotel to them. She needed more people on board with the project, maybe someone who didn’t think it was complete and utterly ridiculous joke like Alastor did.

“How do I look?” Charlie asked as the makeup and hair artists stepped away from her. Charlie stepped out, allowing Vaggie to get a better look at her in a tailored charcoal gray suit, a departure from her usual vibrant red attire. The jacket, adorned with subtle pinstripes, accentuated her frame, while the crisp, white silk shirt underneath added a touch of formality. Completing the ensemble, she wore a black tie with a discreet pattern that hinted at both elegance and authority. The ensemble was a strategic choice, projecting confidence and a readiness to engage with the political powers present at the gala for the sake of her hotel. Vaggie smiled and hugged Charlie deeply, their embrace making Charlie feel a little less nervous about the whole ordeal.

“Charlie you look amazing. What happened to the red?” Vaggie asked, before Charlie just chuckled.

“Well, I wanted a change for tonight. I’m always in red, and I feel like they’ll take me more serious if I’m not walking in there with my usual attire. Besides, you read the invitation, ‘formal attire, look your best’.” Charlie said. Vaggie nodded, and Charlie pulled back from the hug to admire Vaggie in her dress. She was wearing a sleek and modern grey dress that gracefully embraced the formal occasion. The dress, with its tailored fit and subtle shimmer, exuded class. The knee-length hemline added a contemporary touch, and Vaggie had decided to pair it with black heels to complete the ensemble. The choice of grey complemented Charlie’s charcoal gray suit, creating a coordinated yet distinct look that would surely make an impression at the gala. Charlie felt her cheeks heat up taking in her appearance, her long hair gently pinned back, the loose pieces of hair framing her face.

“Aww, Vaggie you look so pretty!!” Charlie said excitedly. Vaggie just smiled, ignoring the way her cheeks heated up at Charlies compliment.

“I agree, you look good vagina.” Angel said mockingly, causing Vaggie to glare at him. Charlie just gushed.

“Angel be nice. This is really important for the hotel.” Charlie explained. He just nodded, tilting his head back and downing a bottle of liquor. The staff however was interrupted by Angel making a purring sound at Husk, who was dressed in a nice white suave dinner jacket, with perfect cutouts for his wings, along with some sleek black trousers and some black dress shoes. The match, he had a black silk lapel.

“I can think of another place that suit would look.” Angel said, leaning onto Husk. He rolls his eyes, bottle in hand.

“Do I even wanna know?” He asks, and Angel just grins.

“On my bedroom floo-“ Angel doesn’t get to finish, being shrugged off by Husk who just walks away with a shake of his head.

“Oh my gosh! Husk you look amazing!” Charlie squealed in delight. Husk just smiled softly before setting his drink on the bar counter.

“It appears everyone is ready.” Alastor said, the focus of the room shifting to him. Niffty was at his side studying his outfit from head to toe.

Alastor emerged in an ensemble that deviated from his usual eccentricity, opting for a more formal yet captivating look. A deep red velvet tailcoat adorned his frame, its luxurious texture catching the light. Dark-red lapels, meticulously piped with gold, added a touch of opulence. Underneath, he wore a perfectly tailored crimson dress shirt, the power emitting off of him. Suddenly, the room grew just a tad bit darker, the shadows of the room stretching just a bit. Complementing the ensemble, he chose a pair of well-fitted black dress pants, allowing the bold red hue to take center stage on his appearance. His choice of footwear shifted to polished black oxford shoes, a departure from his usual pointed-toe boots. The finishing touches of the outfit included a matching red silk bowtie, neatly knotted at his throat, and black leather gloves that added a refined edge. Alastor’s presence was commanding, radiating an air of formality while retaining the distinctive charm that defined him. The room was captivated by the Radio Demon’s unexpected transformation into a vision of refined class and style.

“You took forever for that?” Niffty said, before Angel Dust tossed a pillow at her.

“Shut it you. We, we are keeping,” Angel said, hands waving around Alastor, “to whatever this is.”

“Style.” Alastor said confidently. Vaggie just face palmed while Charlie clapped her hands together excitedly.

“Okay, I think everyone’s ready. Should we head out?” Charlie asked. Vaggie nodded, before Alastor dug the invitation out of his coat pocket. Standing near a wall, he traced the symbol on the back of the card on the wall. “Uh, Al? What are you doing?” Charlie asked. He grinned, putting his hand flat on the wall. The symbol began to glow green, before it opened a portal. On the other side, was a large house. The grand Victorian mansion stood as a testament to opulence, its imposing facade adorned with intricate wrought-iron black railings and embellished balconies with hints of chains. Tall, arched windows with stained glass panels framed the exterior, allowing glimpses of the soft glow emanating from within. The entrance, marked by a sweeping staircase, welcomed guests with ornate, carved intricate detailed doors. Charlie, Vaggie and Husk followed Alastor through the portal, Charlie waving goodbye to Niffty, and Angel. Sir Pentious was most likely hiding out in a room somewhere with his egg boys.

As guests approached, they marveled at the meticulous details of the architecture – elaborate moldings, corbels, and friezes adorned every corner. Ivy-clad walls added a touch of nature’s grace, intertwining with wrought-iron lampposts that cast a warm ambiance over the meticulously landscaped gardens.Inside, the grand foyer unfolded, revealing a sweeping staircase adorned with a rich, mahogany handrail. Crystal chandeliers hung from soaring ceilings, their light refracted by ornate mirrors that lined the walls. Plush Victorian-era furnishings, upholstered in rich fabrics, adorned the parlor rooms, creating intimate spaces for guests to gather and converse.Every room whispered of a bygone era – intricately patterned wallpaper, gilded frames displaying classical art, and the faint fragrance of aged wood and lavender.

The air was infused with a sense of refinement, transporting guests to a time when elegance reigned supreme. The Victorian mansion, a splendid backdrop for the gala, promised an evening steeped in grandeur and charm. In the middle of the exterior grounds, a grand fountain of blood took center stage. Its sculpted marble figures spouted blood into the air, catching the moonlight in a dance of liquid elegance. The fountain, surrounded by manicured gardens and flowering shrubs, became a focal point for guests as they strolled through the outdoor spaces, the gentle sound of cascading blood adding a serene touch to the gala’s errie atmosphere.

The overlords arrival made the event much more real. Alastor hums to himself as he walks around the outside grounds. There are servants of all kinds walking around with glasses of champagne. Rosie is sitting on a bench, plucking thorns off a rose. Alastor smiles to himself, happy to see a familiar face he know he can confide in.

“Rosie dear! So nice to see you.” Alastor said with a smile. She smiles at him, teeth razor sharp.

“Do you think you’ll be getting a seat tonight?” She asks, snapping the rose off its stem and tossing it to the side.

“Well of course I will. It’d be a mistake if I wasn’t.” Alastor said with a smile, crossing his legs as he sat down next to her. Sinners from all over the pride ring were socializing outside of the large mansion. He knew you were inside finalizing preparations and possibly screaming your head off. Overall, the air was chilled with a comfortable atmosphere. Well, it had been comfortable, until a loud noisy vehicle stopped at the front gates. Everyone’s heads were turning, Rosie and Alastor looking at each other with strained smiles. Stepping out of the large limousine were the three vee’s, vulgar music blaring from the vehicles speakers as the three made their way through the now open gates. Reporters lined the edges of the gates, trying desperately to see the overlords inside and to try and sneak into the gala, which was starting soon.

“Mr.Vox! Mr.Vox!” News reporters shouted. Velvet was busy taking selfies of her and her outfit, her assistant following close behind her. Valentino was busy looking down at everyone, smoking his usual, while taking his long strides next to Vox, who was in the middle of the three.

On Vox’s right was Valentino, who donned a captivating look for the gala. His tailored white suit boasted a jacket that reached just above the knee, a subtle departure from his usual floor-length coat. The crimson silk lining peeked through, adding a luxurious touch to the outfit. The coat, reminiscent of his extravagant style, also had a vivid-red hue with his signature white fur trim at the wrists. The black and white striped fur trim along the center-front added a distinctive flair. A gold chain and love-heart-shaped broach fastenings adorned the coat, creating an opulent yet alluring look. Finally, he wore polished black heeled boots, maintaining the sleek and captivating allure that defined Valentino’s presence. The familiar color scheme remained intact, blending sophistication with a hint of provocative charm for the grand gala.

On Vox’s left was Velvet, who had spent months perfecting her outfit for the gala, in hopes she’d be invited of course. She had begged the boys to keep a good public appearance, in hopes they’d be recognized and invited to the crimson gala. Velvette, deciding to ditch her usual style, embraced a lavish and over-the-top look that represented her brand. Dressed in a knee-length dress, the garment had a striking blend of black and red hues. The dress, fitted at the waist, flowed into a voluminous skirt, creating a sense of extravagance. The bodice of the dress featured intricate lace detailing. A white collar adorned with a velvet bow added a playful yet mature flair. The sleeves, a fusion of burgundy and white patterns, contributed to the overall lavish aesthetic she had been going for. Her accessories took on a more refined form. Velvet gloves, adorned with delicate lace, graced her hands, and a pearl necklace adorned her neck, adding a classic touch, completed with maroon heels, each step resonating with a sense of grandeur. Velvet’s transformation into this upscale attire reflected her desire to make a statement at the Crimson Gala.

In the middle, and the brains of the three vee’s, was none other than the head of Vox Tech, Vox himself. He wore a sleek and modern dark blue tuxedo, tailored with precision. Of course he could only have the best. The suit featured subtle futuristic patterns that enhanced his ‘perfect’ sense of style. To complement his high-tech vibe, Vox wore a light blue undershirt with an upside-down broadcast symbol. Vox's gala attire seamlessly blended power and control with his technological edge, creating a memorable look in shades of dark blue, which in his opinion, was the best color.

Upon seeing Alastor, Vox’s eye twitched noticeably. The gates shut behind the three vee’s, closing off the gala to the public. The overlords begin to get closer together unknowingly, Zestial finding a comfortable corner to watch things play out. Carmilla and Zeezie stand close together, whispering to one another as both Rosie and Alastor stand from the bench. Vox, Valentino and Velvet make their way to the Radio Demon and his colleagues.

“I see the grandpa’s were invited.” Velvet says with a scoff, scrolling through her phone.

“So disrespectful.” Carmilla says under her breath, looking away from the three vee’s.

“Hm, interesting, and I was beginning to think the only interesting thing tonight would be the dinner.” Bethesda said, her brother nodding.

“Well, it seems the children brought their play date to the public then.” Zeezie says. The other overlords laugh and Valentino sneers at her.

“Well an idiota like you would think so. Then again, don’t you all do the same with your diapers?” He asked, puffing the smoke into her face. She growls at him, fists clenching at her side, but Carmilla stops her.

“Didn’t they say this was an adult only gala?” Carmilla asked, Rosie chuckling at her words.

“Oh can it grandma.” Velvete said. But Vox remained silent, having his own personal staring match with Alastor, whose smile was stretched ear to ear, teeth on full display.

“I thought this gala was meant for real talent?” Vox asked, stepping closer to Alastor.

“Well it was until you showed up.” Alastor said with a smile. “There’s no originality in copying someone else.” He tuts. Vox narrows his eyes, face twisting with anger as he steps closer to Alastor again.

“You wanna tell me something, you old piece of-“ Vox is stopped, the lights to the exterior of the mansion dimming. The lights behind the large front doors opening slowly. Two tall black shadowy figures stepped from the door, smoke at their feet.

“Thank you all for your attendance. As we know, the annual Crimson Gala is held every year, and this year is no different. With the new extermination date, important decisions must be made. Tonight, ten individuals will be selected to sit at Madame’s table where she will discuss private plans on how to move forward.” The two said in unison. Everyone fell silent as more shadows appeared, each one sitting on the sides of the steps. Lights around the staircases began to light up, and people began making their way up the stairs.

“Well~ this should be fun.”

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