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toxicanonymity · 1 year

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Non con sex pollen fic where Joel and the reader are waken up in a random room together and he recognizes who you are because he used to be friends with ur dad , he starts begging the people who took them to let him out because the reader isn’t the only person that’s ended up in this situation with him, and then there’s smoke that enters the room but it only has an effect on Joel, if you even decide to turn this into anything can you add oral f receiving pls and do the smut however you want! I’ll love it either way <3 IM SO SORRY ITS ALOT

Lazaretto (sex pollen)

2.6k ONE SHOT / joel x afab!reader / master

Part 2 HERE

WARNINGS: non-con, sex pollen, manhandling, oral f receiving, unsafe P in V sex, anal, reader menstruates. poorly edited. Horror elements apparently lol idk how sex pollen is normally written. 18+

You wake up in a heavy-duty four-wall tent with a burly stranger, both of you in hospital gowns. You were sedated and you're still groggy when a man in a biohazard suit explains you’re being quarantined in a makeshift lazaretto outside the overcrowded army hospital. Neither of you were bitten in the chaos earlier, but it’s a precaution. You'll be monitored for 24 hours, treated with an antifungal fog, then monitored for another 24 hours before they release you. You sign a release about potential side effects which include psychological and sexual disturbances.

He doesn’t elaborate, but Joel is clearly disturbed as if it’s not his first time.

“No,” he says. “No!" He screams, then begs, "Let me out, or let her out, I don’t care.”

“I’m not authorized to let anyone out.”

“Then put me in my own tent!"

“I’m afraid we’re far past capacity. Most units have three.”

“Can you at least tie me up or somethin’?”

“I’m afraid not.”

"Then get me away from her!"

You're offended and confused. The quarantine man leaves. For a while, neither of you talk except to say some variation of, “this is bullshit.” Joel seems genuinely distressed. You have your own problems to worry about. You’re at the tail end of your period and don’t have any provisions, not even any underwear. You want to check and see if you’re still bleeding, but not with this stranger in the tent.

You ask him, “What are you so worried about?”

He starts to say something but stops himself and says, “I’ll tell you later.”

"What did I do?" You ask and your temples feel weak.

He recognizes how mean he must have sounded. "Nothing at all, sugar. It's me. I had. . . a bad reaction in the past."

He changes the subject and tells you he recognizes you. It hits you - Joel Miller - he used to run a smuggling route with your dad. Life has hardened Joel into a much stronger, more attractive man since then. He’s not a big talker, but he occasionally indulges your questions about pre-outbreak life. You start to really enjoy his company. For a minute at a time, you manage to forget about the scary circumstances.

There’s one old cot and a blanket. He says you can have them because he won’t be able to sleep anyway. You’re not comfortable but you manage to fall asleep. You wake up shivering and ask if he’ll join you. He hesitantly agrees, then settles in behind you. You grab his hand and hold it tight. You’re gushing between the legs. You expect a nice red spot on both your gowns in the morning, but that should be the least of your worries.

“Do you think we’re okay?” you whisper.

“Yeah, we’re okay,” he replies softly in your ear.

You start sniffling. “I’m scared.”

He tightens his arm over you. “I know, sugar. You’re gonna be alright. We’re alright.” You can hear his heart beating faster.

As you drift off to sleep, it’s impossible not to notice through your gowns when his dick hardens against you. He backs off a little but you push your ass back into him and tighten your grip on his hand. His chest swells against your back and you feel him inhale your hair, but he doesn't make a move and neither do you.

When you wake up, he’s lying on his stomach on the floor using his massive bicep as a pillow. Before he notices you’re awake, you subtly dip your finger into youreslf to check for your period, and it’s not there. You were just wet. You sit up and look at the back of your gown. Nothing. When he sees you’re awake and sits up, the fear returns to his eyes. He says, “I reckon the fog will come soon, now.” There’s no clock, but he senses it. He moves his jaw side to side anxiously and his eyes dart around the tent.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

He opens his mouth several times then stops before he manages to say it. “Look, if. . . If I do anything after they fog us. . . it’s not me, okay?"

"Okay. . .do anything like what?"

"It . . . The fog has an effect on certain people." He swallows and looks away. "Like a sexual effect. It can make you . . . Aggressive."

"Oh. . ."

"Listen. You can fight me off, do whatever you have to do, okay?"

"Okay."

Your heart beats faster wondering what's in store. You can’t imagine it’s that bad.

Finally, one side of the tent ripples as a small, circular portal is opened and something clicks into it. The tent begins to fill with fog. The fog smells faintly like a thunderstorm and settles toward the ground before it slowly rises. Joel backs away from it, sitting in the very corner of the tent as it spreads across the floor. As the fog continues to pour in, he stands up and turns his face toward the ceiling. But it reaches him. He tries not to breathe it, with his mouth in his gown, but it’s no use. He squats down, facing away from you.

He swallows. “I’m sorry.” His voice is shaky. He looks back at you one last time apologetically, then pinches his eyes shut and takes deep breaths. The fog valve is shut. For a few minutes, you can hardly see him.

You hear the sticky footsteps of his bare feet on the floor, then he gets close enough to see him through the fog, just a few feet away from you. His whole face has darkened. And it further darkens as he looks at you in a trance. He wets his lips like you’re something to eat. His chest rises and falls with heaving breaths.

Minutes ago, it was hard to imagine being afraid of him, but he’s a whole different man now. You get up from the cot, walk backwards to the opposite side of the tent, and sit in the corner.

He crosses the tent in two long, swift strides. As he looms over you, it’s impossible to ignore the massive tent in his gown or his muscular thighs.

“Get up,” he demands through the fading fog. You look down and stay where you are, pulling your gown over your knees, shrinking into yourself.

“GET UP NOW!” he yells with his mouth wide open, face red, hair bouncing.

You still don’t.

"I’m sorry,” he says, then darkens again. “But you're askin' for it.” He squats down and gently cups your face. “Get up.”

You don’t. “You don’t want to do this.” A last ditch effort: “I have my period!” But it only makes him more feral. You see it in his face right after you say it.

Joel grabs you roughly by both elbows and manhandles you to your feet, then pushes you over to the cot. He tears your gown off and throws you down on the cot face-up. He scans you head to toe. You futilely try to cover yourself with your arms and hands. You’d feel even more naked without the fog though, which still hangs in the air. You start to sit up and he forces you back down, pinning you with an arm across your chest. "Starving,” he growls in your ear, giving you butterflies. He grabs your hand off your pussy then shoves his own between your legs and the butterflies swarm to your core. You try and fail to keep your legs shut tight but the pressure of your thighs around his hand feels far too good between your legs.

“Joel, stop,” you plead. “You’re not yourself.” You beg him to stop, but you're getting wetter by the minute. His intensity turns you on.

“No use, darlin’.” He inserts his middle finger and breathes heavily. “Nothin’s stoppin’ this."

You still try, though. You thrash and kick, then he grabs you by the arms so hard his fingers dig deep into your muscles, practically to the bone. “Sit still, damnit.” He softens only for a moment. “Don't wanna have to hurt you.” Then he darkens again.

Your face gets cold and you swallow. He kneels at the foot of the cot and uses your thighs to violently yank you toward him so your ass is at the end. He pries your legs open and holds them that way with his massive hands. His mouth latches onto your pussy and you’re flooded with a rush of arousal as the hook of his nose begins to massage your clit. He really digs in, pressing his lips hard into you, thrusting his tongue inside you. A ball of tension gathers in your traitorous core and you twitch.

He’s grunting “Mm” as he sucks and laps. You squirm and he forces you still again and continues, ravenous to consume you. He looks up with black eyes, and the animal between your legs terrifies you. He intensifies his eating and you feel it coming. The next time he thrusts his tongue inside you, his nose drags up your clit. You moan and your spine arches as you see stars. He stops and watches you unravel with his head still firmly planted between your legs. Your eyes water with your pulsations as you stare up at the ceiling of the tent. He lifts his head and a lighter patch of his beard is just barely tinged with your period. He dug it out of you. He inserts his fingers and you clench around him with the aftershocks. You close your eyes and catch your breath.

He must stand up, because before you know it, you feel his tip at your entrance. Your body wants him inside you. You could make it easy on him, but you don’t want him to fuck you and regret it. It’s not just your body – you’re realizing you want him, too. You may be getting ahead of yourself, but it’s the product of a near-death experience, of being sealed in a tent with him for 24 hours, and of getting head within an inch of your life. The perfect storm. If you’re going to have him, it has to be under different circumstances or he may never want to do it again.

He begins to push in.

“Joel, no!” You squirm and thrash.

He sighs. “You're just gonna tucker yourself out like that.”

You still give it your best try, but he’s right. You’re no match for his strength. He overpowers you, pins you down with his weight, then shoves his thick cock into you with a grunt. Your wet little hole can hardly take him. You yelp as his unforgiving girth splits you open and fills you up. When his length retreats, you try to push him off, but you can’t. “You’re takin' it one way or another, darlin’.”

He bottoms out with a guttural roar like he’s charging into battle. He pounds you brutally, slamming to the hilt each time. It hurts but it isn’t long before it starts to feel okay, then good, and then, the delicious stretch of his girth feels like something you never knew you needed. After a minute or two, you stop squirming and thrashing. It's happening, and you might as well enjoy it.

When you stop fighting, he takes his weight off you and stands at the foot of the cot, your thighs in his hands, pulling you back on his dick as his hips snap into you. His hair is messy and his face and neck are splotched red. His big arms bulge out from under the gown. You’ve never seen such intensity on anyone’s face before.

After a few minutes of him pistoning into you, you feel another climax building. You whimper and he rails you even harder, sweating, grunting, growling. When you come, it’s a burst unlike anything you've ever felt. You hear yourself wailing as he fucks you through it. Your walls are still contracting around his cock when he grabs onto your hips for dear life and plunges into you with more force than ever.

You realize he’s going to come inside and yell, “No!” You try to get away. You try to fight back, but he’s too strong and determined. Rage falls across his face. A groan rips out of his throat as his cock erupts into you, pulsing massively, extending your climax longer than you thought possible. It’s a feeling you’ve never felt before.

Your whole body is spent. When he’s finished coming, he slides out of you and you lie there limp with your eyes closed. It’s quiet for a minute. The fog has settled more.

He groans softly. Then, "I'm sorry. . ." You open your eyes and sit up. You reach for him at the foot of the cot, but he backs away. It seems like he can't look at you. His eyes are tearful.

"It's okay. Look at me, Joel. It's okay."

It's quiet for a minute.

"God damnit,” he whispers. He covers himself and when your eyes follow his hand, it’s clear he’s hard again or it never went away. The fog has faded enough that it seems he at least has the wherewithal to jack off instead. "Close your eyes," he says as he turns away and wraps his hand around his cock. You study his eyes and they’re dark, but not as dark as they were. You lie down with your eyes shut and listen to his breath and the squish of his hand around his cock, wet with your slick.

The rhythmic squish gets closer and closer. You open your eyes to the darkest look on his face. He’s standing there at the foot of the cot, gown pushed up out of the way again as he strokes his stiff, imposing cock.

“Flip over,” he demands but gives you no time to comply. He grabs you under the arms.

“Okay, okay,” you comply and he forces you down on your stomach.

He wedges the tip of his cock between your cheeks, aligning himself at your asshole. You’re terrified. You beg, "no, wait," but he's not there anymore. It's not really him.

He plunges into your tight, virgin hole and you yelp in shock. His hands on your hips lift your ass in the air and you bury your head in your arm, biting your own skin as he yanks you back into him, making your ass flush with his pelvis. You’re stuffed full of him, fuller than you’ve ever felt, even fuller than when he was in your pussy.

He pummels you with abandon and your eyes well up in tears. You're mortified, you've never done this before, and you have so many fears – is he going to ruin you? Is there going to be a mess? But each time he buries his length in your ass, it feels better and your fears fade into pleasure. The longer he pounds you, the better it feels. It feels surprisingly good, much better than you ever thought it would. The tent seems to echo with his grunts and the slap of skin.

Another orgasm is brewing as he pounds your guts. It builds faster this time. He grunts louder, then your whole body is seized by the deepest, most powerful climax. You whimper, then your whimper turns into a groan as your ass spasms and your pussy clenches around nothing.

And then he pulses inside you, filling up another hole. By the time he's through with you, you're filled to the brim with him. He slides out and you turn around.

He stumbles backwards in horror at what he's done.

“I’m sorry, sugar. I’m so sorry."

Part 2 HERE

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madschiavelique · 8 months

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Cursed Vampire!Miguel O'Hara

Okay so i came back from this tiny pause and idk why but a sudden hit of vampire diaries content has been multiplying all over my medias after i returned fully and ooo boi

vampire miguel

but not any vampire miguel

cursed vampire!miguel

on the 30th of august i did a spell for the blue moon in pisces and i was guided by my witchy friend who reminded me about the 4 elements and their usage in witchcraft : if you want something fast you use fire (candles), something that is a bit less faster and that purifies you use air (incent for instance), something that takes a little longer and that you use to heal you use water (rain, rivers, moon water etc) and if you want to make something to last in time, you use earth (burying something in the earth for instance)

and she punctuated this recall by “which is why curses are most of the time buried in the earth, because it lasts in time”

and I was like

yea cursed vampire miguel

but with a twist

content warnings : mentions of blood, killings, miguel trying to kill himself but failing, general vampire stuff and some personal lore i elaborated word count : 4,6k (not proofread)

Let’s imagine the setting. A little village lost in the middle of nowhere, Miguel being perhaps mayor, or even just chief of the village if we go back enough in time to a point where electricity was still just a thing you could see when lightning was striking in the sky but had no place in your home.

He owns the biggest house, a manor with multiple rooms and multiple people living in it ranging from normal villagers to servants. Is he a member of the aristocracy ? Not so much, let’s say that he was a hard worker in the fields or something that involved him getting them big muscles (lumberjack perhaps, who knows) and that he revolted against a previous higher up that owned the place.

Xina, his lover at the time, was a witch, hiding the village. She had helped Miguel with her magic without him knowing when he made the rebellion happen. See, she was ambitious, and if Miguel could help her reach her goals, then she’d use him to her own profit. But one more thing, she was deeply in love with him.

And he did love her, until one thing happened. Dana, Dana D’Angelo happened.

Xina believed in many things, in spirits, in demons, in deities, but if there was one thing she didn’t believe in was second chances.

And so, she cursed him, for you don’t play with a woman’s heart, even less with a witch's one.

It had been a few days since the symptoms of this curse still unknown to his consciousness had started spreading within his body.

First, the same night she was executing the ritual, he couldn’t sleep well. He felt heavy, and yet his head felt airy like it was full of cotton. He felt feverish, his shaking body boiling one last time before his life would turn to eternal ice. He had weird dreams that night, altering between horrors and his eyes opening to his window, looking at the full moon.

The next day felt odd, he had this sort of dryness that never left his mouth, and no matter how much he passed his tongue on the inside of it or drunk anything, it stayed parched. The difficulty and surprise settled in when he tried to eat his breakfast but his silverware burned him. He ended up taking something that did not necessitate him to cut, an apple, a fruit, something to satiate the sharp hunger that burned in his body.

He didn’t like seeing people much in the morning, but considering how many lived in this place, he’d have to face them some time or later. And the light, the light from outside felt… too bright for his eyes. The chandeliers that were still getting lit up in the corridors didn’t burn his eyes though, so why ?

That night, he couldn’t sleep. The next day, going outside felt like an army of ants were crawling under his skin as he got under the sun, and these tingles lasted all day, until at the end of it the tingles had turned into a slight burning. He didn’t understand, it was winter, and here he was catching sunburns.

And the next day, another symptom added itself to the list. Why did the people surrounding him smelled so good ? Why did he feel like being near anyone gave him the sensation that he had not eaten anything for days and that they were smelling exactly like the one thing he craved for and needed ?

And then he couldn’t see himself any more in the mirrors, and cutlery felt like he was touching hell, and being outside was like being in hell. And when he passed someone that felt so good, why were his nails elongated into claws ? He definitely ruined some curtains at some point because he was trying to retract them.

And… wait, Xina hadn’t been much around lately. Why couldn’t he get a grasp of her ? Why did he never cross her way ? Had she discovered about his affair ?

And then, one night, when the multiple symptoms had added and fixed themselves entirely in Miguel’s body, his entire property started acting weird around him.

He could hear their whispers, their hearts beating in their chests and pumping blood in their entire body, he could smell their singular perfumes from metres away : everything felt as heightened as dull.

More and more people started leaving their place from the manor. They had heard rumours, rumours saying that he was a malfeasant being, that he had organised the rebellion for power and that he intended to turn everyone here slaves to his demonic energy.

Soon enough, only Miguel remained in the manor. He was more and more absent, living as a recluse in his own part of his quarters.

And one night, as someone was banging heavily on his doors, he came downstairs. As he opened them, he saw that the villagers that had been living under the same roof with him for several months were armed, ready to stab or spike him.

Of course, Xina was at the center of the group. Followed what looked like a fight, but Miguel was almost twice bigger than most of them, and ten times stronger, so he massacred most of the rebels against him until the remaining ones decided to leave the village.

Xina came to him, and told him :

"You have grievously offended me by your cheating, and this crime against me is an affront I could not let pass. Hence, I have cursed you."

Miguel tried to attack her, but as his claws tried to dig into her, he was violently pushed away and his back came into contact with a wall, he fell to the ground, remaining seated against it. Xina walked towards him.

"You can't do anything to me," she said, a pale glow glimmering around her as the sort of crystal crisalide that surrounded her faded at the lack of impact against it.

"What have you done to me?" he breathed.

"I told you, I cursed you," she knelt. "I made you a vampyr."

he looks at her, his eyes finally turning red. She smiled. He had heard of these creatures of legend, these stories made to frighten children and the superstitious, but he had never thought that he would become one in his turn.

"You should be happy, I've given you the gift of immortality. I told myself that eternity would be enough time for you to reflect on your actions," she said, tilting her head to one side. "The few friends you have left will die, those around me will die too, and much later it will be my turn to die. But you, you will remain. Children age, lovers perish. Kingdoms are born and burn up, and you, you will go on."

He didn't want eternity. Why want it when you know the world you live in, but did he really have a choice?

"But you see, even in my revenge I will remain merciful. I offer you two solutions." she said, raising her hand next to her head to count the options. "The first, you find my curse, and destroy it, which will return you to mortal rank." Hope sprang up in Miguel's now cold mind. "Secondly, you find someone who will love you despite what you are and be prepared to forgive all your faults and misdeeds. However, they won't bring mortality back to you, you'll simply be able to change them into a being just like you, and to live with that person for eternity." She rose to her feet, looking down on him before saying her last words:

"Farewell, Miguel O'Hara. The secret of my curse will be taken to my grave. You were my first and last love. You took hold of my heart and crushed it. If you fail to find my curse, choose well." Choose well.

She left, leaving him alone. Remorse, Regret, Guilt and Anger mingled within him in his grey heart. He was alone.

The first decades and the first century were most complex. First of all, he searched the entire region, every piece of land and stone, for Xina's curse. His first instinct was to go to the room she occupied in the manor house, but she had taken everything she owned with her. He went to his family home, searching every room with great interest. But there was nothing.

He searched the library of his manor for information on witches and their rituals, and the only information he could find was that most curses were buried in the ground.

Days, weeks, months of digging everywhere, and nothing. Strictly nothing. The despair of loneliness overtook him earlier than he thought, and soon enough, he tried to put an end to it.

He tried many times. To make matters worse, all the silver objects he used for everything had been taken away by the villagers. The coup had been prepared, Xina had planned everything so that he would have to live with himself.

Hanging himself was useless, as he could no longer breathe, and the cutlery, which was not made of silver, bent against his skin when he tried to stab himself. All night he tried, and when the time finally came for the sun to rise, he placed himself in full sunlight, telling himself that the tingling would be enough to finish him off.

But nothing, the sun stung his pale skin slightly, but didn't go any further. The sensation was slightly unpleasant, but he wasn't suffering terribly. Trying to stay all day in the sun to try and burn himself was useless, for when night came, his skin healed by itself.

Rage hung in his stomach as much as hunger, but he smelt something so enticing that for a moment he wondered if normal blood was flowing through his veins again and he was alive. A simple passer-by had come too close to the village, and Miguel had let his gnawing desire for something to eat get the better of him, draining all the energomer's blood in just a few seconds.

It didn't take him long to become addicted to the feeling of life that filled him everytime he drank blood. He couldn't live like a human again right? So he would take whatever human life he could find on his path.

He knew of a small village nearby where he could feast. It took him a long time to learn to control his appetite, but it took less to learn that his curse had given him an intoxicating beauty that attracted all those he desired. Another of Xina's cruel tricks, he told himself, people will simply be blinded by my aura, thinking they love me when it's really just cursed desire.

He began methodically, taking the inhabitants back to his manor one by one. The first few times he drank them raw, but soon he got used to not drinking all their blood and making them his reserves. They were intoxicated, he could do whatever he wanted with them, but above all: their blind desire made them immensely loyal. None of them ran away, none of them refused to have their blood drunk, and even if Miguel told them to leave, they were far too pained by the thought and preferred to stay.

When the village was hit by an epidemic of a disease, Miguel went there to dump the few corpses that had not survived his bites, so that his business could pass incognito.

He knew of a town not far away and how difficult it was to house all its inhabitants. He went there, explaining to the mayor that he had recently bought a piece of land not far away with old abandoned houses that could help. "What a generous man," said the mayor, and soon enough much of the overcrowded town found itself reviving the village.

Miguel was an experimentalist in his approach to humans. It was so strange to have to deal with them in this way, not as people like himself, but as prey and how he would go about capturing them.

In particular, he was experimenting with his physical abilities. Some twenty years later, when the village was well established, he was tempted to go to the village pub. He could drink as much as he liked and didn't get drunk, he could carry heavy loads without any problem, and he gave himself over to the desires of the flesh with an excpetional energy that pleased all his partners - although they all complained about his icy body.

A century later, all was well, he had once again continued his trick of taking various villagers to his home and making them his delicacies, but he was doing it more sparingly. Humans became less foolish with time, and soon disappearances became too much of a topic in the village. Miguel was finally suspected, after a series of attempts to pin the blame on other suspects.

The slaughter was terrible, and the bottles of wine he filled with blood in the huge cellar of his manor house multiplied until he no longer had to hunt for a long time.

The company of men had become too boring for him. He had become bitter towards them, finding them profoundly idiotic. So he locked himself away in his books, and only left his manor occasionally to go and get more.

But Miguel was no longer interested in finding a way to end it all, he now wanted to get on with feeding his intellect and perhaps, who knows, one day help humans to make this world a better place and become less stupid.

Fifty years later you arrived. You had fled from a village further afield and found this one, which seemed untouched and empty, just what you needed to live peacefully.

You entered the manor house, and unlike all the other dwellings in the area, this one didn't seem so dilapidated and abandoned. You were convinced that someone was living there as soon as you saw one of the chandeliers lit. You arrived in the library, which was by far the least dusty part of the house, and for good reason - Miguel hardly ever went out of it. You found him sitting in his armchair with a book in his hand.

Miguel was 232 at the time, and had long since forgotten the second chance that Xina had offered him. And now that he was a more mature vampyr who didn't attack everything that moved, he managed to strike up a conversation with you.

He was intrigued that a human had arrived here, it's been a long time since he'd seen one. At first he was bothered that you were disturbing his calm and solitude, and he hesitated to kill you on the spot, just like that, without you having time to wonder what was happening.

But when you explained that you'd run away from your village, he was intrigued. And his interest was further piqued when he learned that the reason you had fled was that you were suspected of practising witchcraft, and therefore should be burnt. You didn't really seem like much of a threat, but then again, Xina didn't seem much of a threat either...

He also noticed that his charms weren't working on you, as you were obviously protected. His trained nose detected garlic in your necklace and bracelet, mixed with other herbs that wouldn't do him any good if he were to come to close to them.

Garlic cleanses, it 'purifies', it's a very good antibiotic like lemon (which repels spiders). Vampyrism would have been considered a blood disease, which in Miguel's eyes was not far from the truth.

Eating garlic purified the bacteria present in the blood and, according to some people, would either turn a vampyr back into a normal person or cause their death. The plague came from miasmas, and strong smells like garlic and spices kept them away, which was a reason in the collective mind for vampyrs to use them as a repelling weapon. These little things wouldn't do him much harm, but their influence was enough for you to not feel his hypnoze.

He agreed to let you stay with him, and went so far as to hunt animals for you and bring you vegetables from his garden so that you could eat properly. Why did he keep you with him when he could no longer stand humans and you could be a danger to him? It's quite simple.

Vampyrs aren't sentimental, the only state that comes close to love or attraction for them is obsession, and it didn't take Miguel long to develop one for you. Second, after so many years of loneliness, sharing some parts of his days with someone felt good. And then there was the fact that you were a witch, and that with a bit of luck you'd be able to help him put an end to his curse.

You started off naively enough, but you were curious about vampyrs and kept asking him questions on the subject:

"Why can't you see yourselves in the mirror?"

He sighs, taking you to a room in the manor where stood an old mirror. He took your arm and placed you with him in the reflection. You could only see your own reflection, and just as you were about to marvel in your shudder, Miguel explains:

"That mirror you see there is made of steel, a material that could be lethal to me, and is a formidable weapon against my kind. I'd advise you not to try and break it to attack me, that would be a serious mistake. Most of the mirrors there were in my time were made of steel, and since then they've started to make..." he led you further into a corridor where there was another mirror, "made of aluminium."

He placed you in front of it again, and this time you could see your reflection in the mirror. He was so tall compared to you, and so powerful... a shiver ran down your spine as your eyes met.

"With fae, they can't see themselves in lead, it's their Achilles heel." he said before letting you go and moving on.

You didn't feel any particular hatred towards vampyrs, more a certain curiosity, and obviously a fright. These creatures had been alive for so long, had seen empires fall, kingdoms be born, wars break out, and they had lived through so much...

Miguel had almost forgotten the need for humans to sleep. Fortunately, there was still one bed for you to occupy: Miguel's.

It was a bit dusty, and you even joked to Miguel that you were surprised it wasn't a coffin. He sighed as he got your bed ready, thinking that if you hoped to make friends in such a mediocre way he'd already regret his decision to keep you.

But that didn't stop him watching over you while you slept.

You seemed so peaceful like that, abandoned to the world of dreams, of your insignificant little life. Your frailty fascinated him. And to think that he himself had once been like that...

Your days were quiet, there weren't many exciting activities. You were used to picking and working all day in your village, but here you had nothing to do.

So you chatted to Miguel, listening to him tell you a bit about his whole life. In 232 years of existence one must have a few amusing anecdotes to tell, don't you think? You spent almost all of your time together, and it wasn't long before you started to have feelings for him.

You were afraid, afraid of what he would think, that he would tell you that "it was to be expected, humans are so easily corrupted. You don't love me, you're simply attracted by the beauty that was given to me to attract you."

But you knew it wasn't that evil charm that had got you, it was him all over. Perhaps you should avoid him? Maybe you should leave...

Miguel had felt the change in you, heard how your heart beat a little faster and stronger when you spoke to him, noticed the change in your attitude, especially when he caught you deep in thought. You were hiding something from him, and he was curious to know what.

One evening, when you'd pretended to go to bed, you came down the stairs, grabbed a few provisions that you'd packed in your basket in the kitchen, and silently walked through the big door. It wrung your heart to leave, but a human and a vampyr are an impossible love story. It was only a few minutes later, as your smell and the presence of your warmth began to disappear, that Miguel looked up from his book and your absence hit him right in the throat.

You trudged along on the muddy ground, the snow falling on your body and chilling you despite your coat. A sound of wind as swift and as a sharp blade on a stone brushed against your ear when Miguel was standing in front of you. You stopped walking, watching the prince of the night who was not afraid of the cold let himself be caressed by the snowflakes. None of them melted on his skin.

"What are you doing?" he asked, even though the question sounded almost like a threat.

"I realised that my humanity would be my undoing soon enough in your presence, and so I chose to leave."

"Why," he questioned as he moved closer to you until you had to tilt your head back in the hope of continuing to look him in the eye.

Your heart raced, "My personal affections towards you have shifted."

"Shifted?" he enquired as his hand gently came to clear the melted flakes from your cheeks, or was it your tears? "How have they shifted?"

"They became... omnipresent."

A slight smile stretched his lips as his fingers passed under your chin

"Tell me about them." an order, a necessity.

"They... they make me feel different." you say as your voice shrivels.

"How different," he says as he leans in and brings his face close to yours.

"Warm, and fuzzy," you whispered, "and make my every thoughts come back to... you."

Your breath catches on his lips, his red eyes never leaving yours.

"Am I the object of your love, mi vida?" His breath was cold, and exuded death.

"Yes, you are," you confirm as your voice cracks.

He came to kiss you, the coolness of his lips even colder than the night, and you shivered as the contrast with your skin and the sensation of passion in his kiss sent tingles to the back of your skull.

In as many years of existence, you're the only one who's managed to make him feel human again, and that's enough for him.

"Let's bring you back inside, alright?" he said as he parted from your lips to lift you up in one fell swoop into his princess arms.

And so your relationship gradually metamorphosed, each day sweeter and more fused than the last, until finally the time came for Miguel to think about making you his eternal bride.

What a vile gift she had given him, to allow him to turn you into such a loathsome, despicable, odious being. This choice was going to deprive you of so many things. From the sunlight going from caress to crush, your appetite capsizing, your inability to sleep again. And he didn't want to deprive you of your life.

He didn't want to turn you into such a monstrosity, but you reassured him, explaining that there was nothing in the world that would make you shy away from being with him. Besides, was a life without him by your side really worth living when you were growing old and he remained eternally young and beautiful?

So, with determination, he finally sank his fangs into your skin and set about turning you into a vampire. He simply let the venom infect your veins without ever, ever drinking your blood.

And your change took place just as his had, over the course of several days. He mopped up your fever, held you close to him when your dreams were strange, got you used to going out in the sun without going too far, and then introduced you to drinking blood. He had forgotten how hungry and powerful a new vampire could be, and seeing you almost empty his entire wine cellar made him shudder: not with regret or disgust, but with euphoria.

Never again would he be alone.

The years went by, and your couple survived every era. The good thing about living forever is that you can always find ways to entertain yourself, and it stays with you over time. You still remember so well, for example, that moment when you swam in that lake moving a poor piece of wood and people nicknamed the legendary creature you had inadvertently created 'the Lochness monster'.

It wasn't until years later, out of curiosity, that Miguel wondered what had become of Xina. And after several months of intensive research around the world, you find her grave.

He had read some of the records of what she had achieved. She had climbed far enough up the social ladder until her decisions were taken seriously by certain governors. But soon enough, when she passed the age of 110 while still looking pretty young for her age, she was accused of witchcraft, and instead of dying at the stake, she stabbed herself in the heart, her relatives burying her here.

The two of you stood by her grave and still insisted on bringing her flowers. But it was as he lowered himself to the ground that Miguel remembered what she'd said: "The secret of my curse will be taken to my grave."

Could it be...

So you both set about digging it all up, digging until you finally found her coffin. You were, after all, creatures of blasphemy, but opening her grave made you hesitate at first. Who knows what spell she might have put on her coffin to ensure that anyone who opened it would be cursed?

But when he opened it and discovered her skeleton, he found nothing.

"You were my first and last love. You grabbed my heart..."

"And you crushed it," he whispered.

He plunged his hand between her empty ribs, until he touched something hard, something that didn't have the texture of bone. He reached for the object, a wooden box sealed with black wax.

"Is it... what I think it is ?" you asked.

He nodded, silent. He wouldn't open it, he'd learned from some of his lessons. With his powerful hand, he crushed the box between his fingers with ease, a cascade of dust mixed with sand, herbs and other objects from the ritual surging through his fingers.

And his body burned with a delicious warmth. The familiarity of the humanity in him completed itself, while for you, too, vitality returned to your veins.

The curse was lifted, and now you could act normally. What a surprise it was when your two bodies touched and the warmth they emanated made you smile. And what a joy it was to be able to eat normally and not get a rash on your skin if you spent too many hours in the sun.

Thus your life ended in peace and love, both of you continuing your lives together peacefully.

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olderthannetfic · 10 months

Note

I'm not sure if I'll be explaining this very well, but I see a lot of asks and general discourse disparaging the use of "quippy" dialog and using humor to break up heavy moments, often specifically pointing to Whedon and Marvel as examples of this being poor writing. Recently the ask about The Kaiju Preservation Society, which I just started reading and have been enjoying, made me want to stop reading it out of shame. Honestly it just makes me feel bad about my own writing - I use a lot of humor, both in dialog and in descriptive text. When I want something to hit hard I can remove that aspect and let the impact sit.

By contrast, when I read something that has no give, no breaking up between the angst or horror elements, I start to feel taxed and emotionally drained, like I cannot keep reading because it only gets worse. I love a good horror or psychological thriller, but if it's all downhill with no peak for it's valleys I can't finish it without forcing myself to.

But then I think back to all those people pointing at writing styles that are similar to my own and my preferences as 'bad writing' and think 'am I a terrible writer?' It's disheartening.

So my question is this: is it a specific type of quippy dialog and humorous asides that makes the writing bad? Pop culture references aside, since those are things that very much lose their impact, are there other tips to would be writers to improve their writing? Is writing humor into horror a mark of poor writing skills?

Uh...

Literally every bit of reputable writing advice ever will tell you you have to vary pace and tone. They may not reference humor or quippy dialogue specifically, but that's one way to do it.

The objection to Whedon's rancid dialogue is that it is bad at what it's trying to be, at least in the opinion of the critiquer.

I have some ideas here, but honestly, I think I need to stop spending so much time writing out writing advice on tumblr and stick to my patreon. Others are welcome to chime in.

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placeinthemiddleofnowhere · 2 years

Text

Bring me a dream

Part 5: Watermelon Bloody Mary

Status: Ongoing

Masterlist

Pairing: The Corinthian x F!Reader

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, smut, horror elements, body horror, manipulation, angst, oral f! recieving, PinV, dirty talk, corruption kink (Corinthian) , shy inexpereinced reader

A/N: Ok guys, this is a bit of a departure from what I've written already, moving away from purely soft and cuddly stuff and into some nightmare territory. Hope you guys still enjoy 👀💕

Also P.S Thank you so much for all of your lovely comments and reblogs and for being so invested in my lil fic. Much appreciated everyone ✨

-🍰-

Even after an hour of you being gone, Corinthian lay in bed, gently caressing the empty spot where you’d been laying all morning. Your warmth had long since faded from the cool sheets and the feel of your lips on his felt more and more like a ghostly memory than a physical feeling. Though, it didn’t stop him replaying your needy touches over and over in his mind like they had been imprinted into his every neuron.

That settled it. He was addicted to you.

It's not like it hadn’t been clear for a while, he had inkling that what he felt was…well more than he’d ever felt for anyone before. He just wasn’t expecting it to hit him so hard was all. Even with the warmth of your love, it still felt like stumbling headfirst into a brick wall when he thought about how vulnerable you made him feel. Like he’d never get enough of you, and if anything should ever happen between you both he’d crumble into a pile of sand.

“Fuck,” he moaned out loud, running a hand through his roughed up hair. “What’s she doin’ to me?”

It didn’t feel like he had enough breath in his lungs anymore. His chest felt achingly full and if he really thought about it, it didn’t feel like such a bad thing at all. It was as if he’d never have to leave that bed as long as he knew you’d return.

What the hell had happened to him?

He hadn’t even felt a hint of the need to kill. The thought of blood dripping through his fingers no longer appealed, it was overtaken by you and your nerve-flushed skin and giggles and big innocent eyed stares long ago. And now that he knew what you looked like writhing underneath him all breathy and begging for him…well that was enough to make him live up to his promises all on its own.

He couldn’t do anything that would jeopardise how you felt about him now. He couldn’t lose you.

He finally found himself sitting up in bed and casting a look over to himself in the mirror in the corner. He distantly hoped it would have captured an image of the two of you caught in a fit of passion, but instead he only saw his own reflection. His pensive face and bare chest were paled in the afternoon’s glow and his glasses were gleaming jet black.

He swallowed thickly and pulled the shades off of his face, tilting his head as the gnashing teeth met the mirror. His thoughts became clouded and he looked away from himself, gritting his jaw and grunting softly.

It was always the same after you left him. Always the onslaught of anxiety that made his head thunderously heavy. He was always reminded of the man he truly was, not the man you saw him as. The nightmare.

Not good enough.

Not what she really wants.

You couldn’t even please the one that made you. How can you think to please her?

How can she even stand your presence?

Corinthian had done all he could to be the best nightmare he could be and still Dream had tried to erase him as if he were an awful sketch of a failed masterpiece. He couldn’t even live up to his intended purpose, so how on earth could he be what you wanted? What you needed.

Furthermore, he was corrupting you and he didn’t even have the shame to stop himself. He was turning you against Morpheus’ vision after all those years of being his perfect creation. He loved listening to you moaning for him. Listening to you begging for him to do all sorts of nasty things, it was like a hit of cocaine. It made his head tingle in ways it hadn’t before when he saw you making breathy requests in the dark hollow of his room.

As much as he didn’t want to turn you into something you hated, something like himself, he couldn’t live without you now.

He breathed deeply and tossed the sheets away from himself, walking naked from his bed and toward the kitchen. If he couldn’t settle his mind with his usual pursuits, sex and killing, then at least he could fall back on a stiff drink. That would take the edge off of his souring thoughts.

The air in there was brisk, made his muscles tighten as he reached into the cupboard and poured himself a glass of whisky. The bitter honey liquid washed down his throat like cooling lava and after he’d downed the whole glass, he poured another few fingers. Yes, this would distract him. Would let him forget his propensity for fucking up for a little while.

“Goes down smoother ‘n lead,” he chuckled to himself, thinking of a surly bartender that he used to know years before.

With a shake of his head, he took his tumbler and slunk over to the record player, sticking an old Waits record on low. The growling melodies crackled out and sent him into a blissful fog as he draped across his sofa like a renaissance painting. He felt pathetic, like a lovesick school boy. He couldn’t help it though.

After a few merciful seconds of silence in his mind, he swivelled his head from the back of the couch and was greeted with another reminder of the night before. The plate of brownies had been abandoned there, left uncovered in the haze of passion you’d both been overtaken by. And now there was a full stack left, all for him.

“Oh man…”

He could still remember the last vision he’d had, could still feel the raw emotion that laced them. You had been so nervous, and in turn he’d thought that he’d be greeted with some terrible vision. Though, when he’d finally saw you both there on the dance floor, locked in each others arms, well that was enough to shatter through his veneer and make him weak.

He didn’t need to think about reliving that twice. He took another gulp of his whisky then grabbed a brownie from the top of the pile, sinking his teeth into the rich chocolate and smooth nutty textures. The flavour soon faded away and once again he was transported to another realm far away. His living room dissolved before his eyes and soon enough he was back in the club under the golden LEDs and you were wrapped in his arms like something out of a movie.

He could feel the bass vibrating through his body, could feel the way your breaths were tickling by his neck. Gods, and your soft skin brushed against him like Egyptian cotton. His heart thrummed with the rhythm of the faded music and his head felt like it was swimming in the reverie of your hold on him. He could stay there in that vision forever.

You were a dream in every way. And he was the shadowy figure that crept upon you like a sickness. Though, while lost in the fantasy you’d created he couldn’t bring himself to think about that for even a second. No. He wasn’t a nightmare there, he was your dream. And his horrible thoughts couldn’t penetrate that vision for as long as he was inhabited by your magic.

And he had a whole lot of magic to get through.

-🍰-

“Casey!”

Your entire face felt like it was going to melt in embarrassment, you’d never been so mortified in your life.

“I’m just curious! I swear I won’t judge. Like was he big big or was he like…big big?” Casey asked, putting on silly voices and gesturing wildly with her hands.

“I’m not answering that!” you squealed, shutting your eyes and running toward your bedroom door.

You’d been in the house for less than five minutes and within that limited space she’d already interrogated you within an inch of your life. If you weren’t the subject on Casey’s hands, you’d of course be delighted by her ability to get information, but unfortunately you were. And you'd cracked like an egg.

Jeez, she could be relentless! You shut your door with a rattling bang and slid down it, giggling as you processed what you’d just done the night before.

Of course you’d spent the entire morning with Corinthian and cuddled and kissed and even gone another round, but even now you couldn’t wait until you saw him next.

Your heart was beating like a humming bird. And just as you’d begun to linger on the soreness between your legs and the heat that was rushing through your body you were rudely interrupted.

Although, you couldn’t say you were even surprised, in fact you were shocked Casey hadn’t stopped the door before you’d even shut it.

“You better open up because I’m not leaving till you do, roomie!”

Ugh! You absolutely weren’t going to disrespect Corinthians privacy, you couldn’t….

Well maybe you could share a couple details.

“Fine. I’m not answering questions that are specific to certain body parts though!” You sighed, humphing yourself up so you could open the door.

You grabbed the handle and opened it only to be greeted with her best Stanley Kubrick impression, jumping as she pounced through the doorway. Apparently there was no time to waste! She grabbed your wrist in her iron grip and dragged you over to your bed, ready to begin her round of questioning again.

You had no choice but to sit down with her, crossing your legs and trying not to let the gleeful grin escape your face. She would be able to practically taste your excitement in the air, she didn’t need to be further encouraged. Though, the minute she opened her mouth you couldn’t help but squeal and clutch a stray cushion to your chest.

Ok, you were maybe a little more than excited to get to share some details with your friend.

“So…moving on from my earlier question - was he good?”

“He was amazing,” you sighed, avoiding meeting her eyes. “He was so supportive and sweet and- and he was so gentle even when he- well… um…”

“What!”

“He asked if I wanted it harder and I said yes and oh my god- I thought I was gonna scream the place down,” you laughed, collapsing back onto the bed. “My legs were so shaky after I didn’t think I was gonna walk again!”

Casey’s laugh chimed with yours and soon enough you were both in a fit, shaking the bed with your full bodied giggles. It was the first time you’d ever talked about sex like that with someone and it felt good to be able to share the experience. It felt human. Like nothing you’d have even thought about in the dreaming.

“I can’t believe you!” Casey snorted, “you’re little Miss innocent baker one minute, never talking to any boys and suddenly you meet this dream guy and next thing I know you’re getting paralysed by dick!”

“Ah, Casey!” You squealed, throwing your pillow.

“Getting it so good you can’t walk right after is a badge of honour! Shout it from the rooftops!”

“I’d rather not scare him away, thank you very much,” you retorted.

“Scare him away! That’s like a badge of honour to men,” Casey grinned, “he’d be thrilled knowing you thought he was that good.”

You thought in her words for a minute, and as it circled in your mind for a few minutes a grin spread across your face. That morning, it actually had been you telling Corinthian how amazing he’d made you feel that had led to round two. It made you think there really was something to Casey’s advice.

“Well, in any case, I can officially say that I’m hooked,” you smirked, lying back against the sheets.

“Hooked on that magic thing,” Casey said, raising her eyebrows.

You rolled your eyes and watched as she widened and closed her hands, looking pointedly at you. Ok, so she wasn’t going to let this go. There was the slightest temptation to give in and nod as she widened the gap between her palms, though you decided you’d stay resolute.

“Not answeringgg,” you sing songed.

“Well it was worth an extra shot,” she huffed, throwing her hands up in the air. “I can’t believe you’re off getting to have passionate movie sex and I’m stuck in all night without my bestie to help wing-woman me.”

“As if I’m ever the wing-woman” you snorted. “Lurking in the shadows and watching to make sure no one spikes you.”

You laughed at your own joke, thinking back to all the times you’d watched as she talked to a guy and you anxiously hoped that he wouldn’t be the one to sweep her off her feet. Sweep her away from you. Though, it was Casey’s expression getting more serious that made you realise that maybe you’d underestimated yourself.

“And it's that kind of vampirey stalker support I need to be able to have the courage to talk to those guys on a night out,” she said matter of factly, “Like, really though. I miss you coming out with me. We never do spontaneous nights out anymore! When was the last time we even went out together?”

You breathed in a heavy sigh and felt your face fall as you’d looked at your friend. You’d been so wrapped up in the excitement of being around Corinthian and exploring your lies together that you had blown off Casey for a little bit. Sure, you still had your late night chats and made sure to catch up in the downtime, but you hadn’t made any intentional plans with her.

If you really thought on it, you hadn’t really been an amazing friend as of late. And what’s more, you had been the one discouraging her away from guys at the club in the first place because you didn’t want her to abandon you. Yet now you were off galavanting with Corinthian. The same person that was able to call you out on your jealous streak.

Well, you decided then that it was time to stop being so selfish. She’d taken you out and was the reason you’d met Corinthian, you could take her out and find someone to give her some ‘magic stuff’ too.

“You’re right. I’m really sorry I’ve been totally man crazy and we’ve not gotten to hang out like we normally would. It’s been a total whirlwind lately with him! But, you know what? It’s payday this weekend which means there’s going to be plenty of people out looking to buy my super pretty, funny, amazing best friend some drinks,” you grinned.

“Oh my god, yes! You have no idea how excited I am right now!” she said, jumping up into action and presenting her phone to your surprised self.

You had some idea of how excited she was.

“So, there’s this new cocktail place that’s opened up and I’m thinking we head there for a couple of drinks and then we hit the club, and we can go on the hunt for some classy guys to take with us and then-”

You listened as she continued to rattle off one of the most packed itineraries she’d mapped out yet and settled against the wall by your bed, smiling and nodding along through her excited breaths. You truly had it all at that moment. It was a feeling that you never thought that you’d have again ever since Morpheus had abandoned you. The feeling of contentment - of being whole.

Everything- or rather everyone that you needed was right there in your life. You had Casey, your rock and your constant source of excitement, and you had Corinthian. Slowly but surely you were building a family, you were developing a new purpose. You were living for you, and not for the whims of your master. And honestly? That felt much better than the life you had before.

-🍰-

Soon enough the weekend had rolled around and you and Casey’s getting ready routine was fully underway as you sat in her scattered bedroom. While you’d managed to find a floaty black dress that you liked, Casey was still shoving random things over her head and huffing as she found that they weren’t quite right. Apparently that night had to be perfect, and she couldn’t accept a dress that was any less than that.

“Ah! What am I supposed to wear! It feels like a gremlin’s been creeping around my wardrobe and stolen all the things I like,” she fumed.

You giggled as you watched her stomp and huff behind you in the mirror, footfalls fading on the worn cream carpet and hands outstretched to the ceiling. She was always like this, but it never got any less entertaining to you. In fact, she was such a distraction that you almost smeared your mascara, causing you to bite your lips and stop your makeup while your face wasn’t a scribbled mess.

You were a getting ready veteran, and you knew Casey had more nonsense to get out before you were both through. So, you knew it was your time to shine.

“And what is it you think you would like better than what you've pulled out, hm?” you asked teasingly, turning in your chair.

“I don’t know! Just something better than whatever all this is,” she groused, folding her arms and aggressively falling onto her bed.

You laughed again as the bed creaked with her big flop and walked over, looking at the array of scattered fabrics that now littered the surface. You could hardly see the cartoon puppy print of her sheets under the multicoloured clothes. And so, as usual, you decided that if she couldn’t choose after going through this many outfits you would. As was commonly the case.

“How about this? What was wrong with this?” you asked, holding up a forest green playsuit.

“I’ve worn that so many times,” she moaned, rolling around so that she could see your pick. “Plus that ones too ‘I’ve just come back from a day at the beach and now I want to sit around with a glass of wine’. I want to give a ‘sexy, just jump me’ sort of vibe, you know?”

You snorted and tossed the playsuit down amongst the other discarded clothes. Well you were certainly in for a performance tonight. Hopefully there would be some decent guys and you wouldn’t have to rescue her away from too many creeps, you thought, trailing your eyes over the other options.

You held up a couple of other choices, going through a nice top combo that didn’t have good enough bottoms to match and a hot pink dress that was apparently the result of a drunken SHEIN purchase. It resulted in a few laughs when you held it up and realised how revealing it was, it was less of a dress and more of a napkin really.

However, you eventually hit the jackpot when you went diving into the back of her bursting closet and found a sparkly gold dress that you hadn’t seen her wear in months. You knew that one thing was for sure, she’d be hard to miss in that! It shimmered with sequins and would cling to her legs, showing a little skin from the opening in the back. It wasn’t one she wore often, it was pretty striking, but apparently confident Casey was out to play.

“It’s perfect,” she squealed, hugging you and taking the dress from your hands. “This is the one!”

“I’m glad,” you said, jokingly rolling your eyes. “I was afraid we’d have another January twelfth on our hands. How long did it take then? An hour, two hours…?”

“Oh, hush you!”

You smirked and walked back over to her mirror, hovering your hands over a set of different lipsticks, wondering if you should go dark or sparkly. Then, as you escaped into your mind for a minute you couldn't help but let your thoughts stray to earlier in the week when you’d last worn lipstick. When you’d trailed kisses all over Corinthian’s chest and then lower toward his-

“Getting lost in a thought again?” Casey interrupted, flicking your shoulder.

“Hey!”

“Hey, yourself,” she tsked. “This is our night!”

“I know that,” you defended, finally picking up a sparkly lipstick you were always fond of. “I just can’t help it sometimes.”

“Mhmm, well you know what you can help?” she said with a smile, leaning in close to you in the mirror.

“What?” you asked, narrowing your eyes suspiciously.

“Covering up that big ass hickey he left on your neck,” she said, nudging you with her shoulder.

You gasped as she said it and twisted, looking at the side of your neck in the mirror and realising that now that you were wearing something that was more revealing, you could see it clear as day. Your entire face heated like a radiator and your hand shot over the purple bruise, acting like the faster you covered it up, the faster she’d forget about it.

“Shame you can’t do that the entire night,” she grinned.

You huffed and shot her glare, picking up the foundation you’d thought you were finished with and hastily finding your brush in amongst the mess on the vanity. How could you have forgotten about that? Ugh, why had you even suggested it in the first place! Though, you had to admit, even with the embarrassment that was flooding through you then, it had felt damn good to receive at the time…

“Focus woman! We can’t be late to the reservation!”

“Jeez! Ok, ok, I’m going,” you grinned, applying a thick blob of makeup to your brush. “Not my fault he’s so hot!”

-🍰-

So apparently hickeys were a bastard to cover. Who knew?

Despite that though, you’d both made your way out of the house and rushed over to the new cocktail bar, overly excited to try out the menu. Of course, according to ritual, you’d both read out pretty much every drink there was on your phones while you both rode in the taxi, already choosing out your first orders. It wasn’t like you could just walk in blind after all!

And at this place especially, you were glad that you hadn’t. When you’d both walked through the dark wooden doors, you were in awe. You were both ushered in by the doorman then were promptly swallowed into shadow and bathed in pink lights and trailing faux flowers that dangled from the ceiling. There were several tables all illuminated by their own pink haloes that all had dark velvet chairs pushed into them and glossy black tables, one of which you were led to by a server.

She had a pressed white shirt and an excited walk, swaying as she led you to the table. Her long blonde ponytail moved with her and you watched it swish back and forth, entranced before you sat at your table.

“Welcome to The Dahlia! Have you been here already or is this your first time?” she asked, looking between both of your amazed faces.

“This is our first time,” Casey answered, quicker to snap out of her reverie than you.

“Exciting! Well, here we like to offer table service, so I’ll be coming by to get your orders. So if you need anything at all, just let me know! We have our cocktail menu here,” she said, handing you both a shiny menu card that you more than knew off by heart, and then handed you a bigger book as well. “And then this is our beer, wine and spirits here. We have plenty to choose from, and there are descriptions for what everything is, but if you have any questions I’m more than happy to help! Should I give you both a second to decide?”

“Actually we know what we both want to order,” you smiled, setting the menus down. “We might’ve had a little look in the taxi coming over…”

“Oh, amazing! Love a customer that knows what they want,” she giggled, throwing you a wink. “What’ll it be?”

You bit your lip as Casey smirked from the corner of your eye and listed off your orders. Then of course, the blonde had given you another wink when she left. That was enough to make you break and join Casey in a fit of poorly concealed giggles once she was a little ways away. Out of earshot, you had hoped.

“Do you think you could stop being so damn alluring for like a second and save some for the rest of us?” Casey said, sighing sarcastically as she settled into her chair.

“Well I can’t help that I’m clearly such a catch round here,” you said, wiggling your eyebrows conspicuously. “I’m irresistible, darling!”

“You’re such a goof,” she snorted. “I’m glad we’re out together though! This place is amazing. It’s like being in some kind of fairy den.”

“I know right! I love the flowers, they’re so pretty.”

You both took a second to look around again and let your eyes trail over to the bar where the server had gone to relay your order. It had a dark tile splashback and a wall full of so many different spirits you didn’t think you recognised them all. Though, really you were just keeping your eyes on the prize, looking out for the sugary candy floss that was bound to come your way. Ugh, it had been too long since you’d had your last sugar fix!

“This reminds me of a garden I used to walk through sometimes,” you said absently, trailing your eyes to the ceiling above, admiring the soft pink flowers that dangled from it.

“Oh yeah? I’m surprised, you always made home sound like it was…well not great,” she shrugged, trying and failing to find the right words.

“Well, yeah, this was before- uh before things fell apart. I had this…neighbour that used to have the most beautiful flower maze. Kinda reminds me of that,” you smiled, trailing as you thought of one of the few dreams you’d known from back home.

“Aw! That sounds so cute! We used to have a cranky neighbour that was obsessed with his apple trees growing up and my brother always used to sneak into his garden and steal them. Then, one day, I was supposed to be his lookout but I got distracted by a butterfly that had flown right by me. Then, when I tell you that that man was the same colour as his apples, I’m not lying, man he was furious! All I heard was this scream one second and the next my brother comes jumping over the fence, apples flying everywhere out of his hoodie and then the neighbour is SHOUTING down the door for our mom to come downstairs and then they ended up in a screaming match together. That man hated us,” she laughed, shaking her head as she recounted her tale.

You’d both laughed it off and after a little while longer, you got your drinks which were just as impressive as the bar itself. You’d been given a wide pink coloured martini glass overflowing with candyfloss and it tasted so sweet, you could practically feel rainbows exploding in your eyes. It was pretty strong as well, in fact just a few sips in you were joking and laughing around with Casey even harder than you ever had before.

It was already shaping up to be a fun night out. You’d barely even felt a single itch to text Corinthian, and even though you’d felt a notification buzz in your purse you stayed resolute, not wanting to give into your base instincts. Casey had been right earlier, this was you guys’ night out together. No Corinthians allowed.

Though, later on in your evening, as Casey found herself trailing to the bathroom yet again, you found yourself about to give into temptation. Just as you’d reached your hand down to unbutton your purse, your server wandered up to you and placed a tray down on the table, setting down a couple of very tall, very red drinks onto the shiny back surface with a smile. You frowned as she went about her job, wondering what she was doing. You hadn’t ordered any more drinks yet.

“You two are lucky girls,” she beamed, catching your furrowed brow. “You got these compliments from a secret admirer, he said he ‘wants you to drink up for the night ahead’. They’re our signature watermelon bloody Marys.”

You tilted your head and simpered, not quite sure what to do with your face. A secret admirer? Was it actually her and she was pretending otherwise? Could you be bold enough to even ask?

Though, as it turned out you were wrong, you weren’t kept in the dark for long. She gave one of her signature winks and looked over to a man that was getting up from his stool at the bar. He had a long black coat and scraggly hair that covered his face as he whisked past, moving through the shadowy room before taking his leave through the heavy wooden doors.

“And he’s not even sticking around to chat. Must’ve just wanted to pay you guys a compliment,” she said with a shrug, quickly picking up her tray and whisking herself off.

Odd.

You frowned again and studied the drink, sitting up so you could see its contents. You weren’t normally one for a bloody mary, they were usually so bitter and you much preferred sweet things. Though you couldn’t deny, there was a hint of something syrupy when you smelled it. When you looked over the red salty rim it seemed to have two balls of watermelon bobbing alongside the usual celery, rolling around in the glass like a pair of bloodshot eyes.

That struck you as being even weirder. It seemed like something that Corinthian would’ve bought you in the early days, something to tease you with. It was such a strange choice of cocktail to send to you both. Not that you were an expert, but it seemed like most guys would send something prettier.

“Ooh, did you order something?”

You broke out of your thoughts as Casey returned to the table and shook your head, looking from the drinks and back to her as she sat down. You bit your lip and turned to the door for a second again, but when the stranger made no sign of returning you sighed and explained that they’d been bought for you.

“Free drinks and we didn’t even need to speak to anyone yet?” she giggled tipsily. “Tonight is gonna be great!”

You smirked and soon enough, you’d forgotten all about your ‘secret admirer’ and relaxed back into the night. Things were running smoothly once again. Or rather, so you’d thought. After leaving and paying the extortionate bill you’d both run up, minus the bloody marys of course, you’d both hopped in another taxi.

You were both game to hit up your usual spot, ready to do some dancing and find Casey someone cute to talk to. The backseat was now a strategy room and you were both the chief councillors of the plan of attack, talking animatedly about how you were going to get Casey laid - much to the driver's chagrin. Though, halfway into the journey you were held up in traffic. The taxi had come to a full stop, settling for a few minutes at at least several points.

Casey had threatened to jump out and sprint, thinking that she was being funny. Though soon it became a reality that getting out and walking actually would be faster than driving. So, after paying the reduced fare and giving a small tip you both stalked down the street, determined to get to the club before you’d be caught in an endless queue and refused, heels clacking down the street like castanets.

Then, just to top things off, you were getting endless calls all of a sudden. The buzzing was easy to ignore at first, afterall, you and Casey were on a mission. Though soon it became more annoying as the vibrations ceased to stop and they ran through your already chilled body, making you regret walking through the cold night without a jacket on.

“Oh my god! Who is that?”Casey laughed, “Is it who I think it is?”

“I have no idea,” you frowned, folding your arms over your chest. “All I know is I’m not doing anything till I can feel my fingers again.”

She nudged into you from her spot at your side, but continued to keep at your pace.You were both speed walking down the street like a couple of suburban fitness fanatics. The club was all you could think about. The warmth, the dancing and the drinks. However, just as you were about to turn the corner and reach your coveted spot, you were both stopped in your tracks and ripped from your thoughts.

A scream rang out in the night, followed by shocked gasps and chatterings. It had you both turning to each other with gaping mouths and wide eyes, holding each other fast with your confused stares. However, you weren’t held there for long. You both turned the corner and were shocked as you were met with flashing blue lights and noticed several police cars and an ambulance parked outside The Annex club.

“What the hell?” you both gasped in unison.

The two of you strolled over toward a gathering crowd and peered over their heads, thankful that you had heels on so that you could see past the onlookers without getting too close. You couldn’t see much at first, all you noticed was streams of people leaving the club, racing away in their uncomfortable shoes and hardly taking a look back. You had no idea what was going on, but It was enough to get your throat constricting.

What could have so many people running like that, you’d wondered. Why are they so scared?

However, after a few seconds of peace, when there were no more people fleeing the scene you finally realised why. You heard him at first, heard a blood curdling scream that tore through the night like a knife slicing against metal. It had you wincing and covering your ears, heart beginning to thud like a jackhammer. It was the scream of someone that was terrified, someone in pain.

“Holy crap, what is that?” Casey gasped, clutching your side as the wail continued.

You weren’t left in the dark for long. The culprit came struggling down the stairs and through the doorway, being dragged by several police officers, squirming in their grasp. He was waving his arms and kicking his legs, roaring like a banshee and desperately trying to get free. He looked in terrible shape, his clothes were ripped and he was covered in blood, his hair was a matted mess on top of his head.

“It’s so dark! It’s so dark, please, why is it so dark? Please, please! Help me! Help me!” The man screamed, still scrambling against the officers in his hold.

You gasped and covered your mouth as you studied him further and noticed his eyes. They weren’t dark and hidden by shadow, they weren’t obscured from your view, rather they weren't there to be seen in the first place. He only had empty sockets where two orbs should be…

“Oh my god, what happened to him?” The crowd asked, everyone erupting into questions as you all watched the man get dragged toward the ambulance.

“Where are his eyes?”

“What’s happening?”

“Get this on film, someone take a video!”

You opened your mouth a couple of times, gaping like a fish as you listened to the crowd and focused on the scene before you. You had no idea what to think, you could barely process what was happening. Nothing could’ve prepared you for what would happen that night.

And nothing prepared you for what Casey would say as the figures drew closer and the man came further into view while they dragged him to the nearby ambulance.

“Oh my- isn’t that…that’s the guy- that’s- that’s the guy that I was talking to when we were here before,” she stammered, “That’s…the same thing he was wearing when we were talking. It was on the news…”

You blinked a few times, trying to process what she was telling you, feeling like you were floating in the ocean, witness to a violent shark attack as you wobbled on your feet and stared ahead. Casey’s grip only got tighter on you as the realisation came to her and the buzzing in your purse continued to go, seemingly never ending and adding to the waves of shock that roiled your stomach.

You couldn’t help it. You broke away from Casey, away from the crowd, and released the contents of your stomach, dancing on your feet and falling to the ground as your head swam.

How could this be?

What the hell was happening? Who did this?

-💕-

Tag List

@ravenous-says-stuf @jvybirrd @padawansubscription @pinkybee926 @heurimariquinha @the-corinthian-og-begay-docrimes @autistic-dream @heartache97 @juniebugg @mischiefmanaged71 @loonylunalovegood77 @suzubeans @proximateez @aureliel @belle643 @hollybell51 @seraferna @anotherromanticpoet @pinkcyclewitch @nebulastarr @terzoskaz0o @baarishkiboond @philiasoul @tea-effect @ryethebrokengae @maysrain @gortycs @lucienmikaelson @rosaren2498 @dais-hime

#the sandman #the corinthian #corinthian #corinthian x reader #boyd holbrook #sandman fanfiction

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elemit · 3 months

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A Gift, A Curse

A story in which we discover just how damned an ascended vampire can be, and just how far you will go to save the spawn you loved.

Read in full on AO3

dead dove/not beta read

fic warnings: Abuse, Angst, Biting, Blood and Gore, Blood Drinking, Bondage, Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, Food Restriction, Hate Sex, Horror, Mental Coercion, Mind Control, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Sex, Sexual Coercion, Torture, Total Power Exchange, Trauma, Vampire Bites

Chapter 22: Relief

You freeze. Though the voice is vaguely familiar, its source remains a mystery to you until the speaker steps forward out of the shadows that hide him.

“I asked you a question, monster.”

Your eyes go wide as the moonlight reveals his face to you. Marshall Bormul, the Flaming Fist that Astarion had made you… perform for.

He gives a cruel chuckle. “Those big doe eyes won’t work on me. They’re only further proof of your aberration. I should run you through with a stake right now,” he says, prowling towards you. You back away from him, fearing the manic glint in his eye, desperate to tell him that he’s got it wrong, that you’re not a monster, but the words cannot come.

“How’d you do it, hm? How’d you gain control over a good man like Lord Ancunín? A spell? Some ghoulish charm?” He tuts in disgust. “You might have charmed yourself pretty today, but you didn’t before, did you? I could see there was something wrong with you the moment I set eyes on you. And when you touched me with those cold, dead hands, I knew.”

Your back hits the bookshelf that lines the wall as your eyes grow watery with frustrated tears. It is so desperately unfair that in your tongue-bound state, you cannot even speak up in your own defence. In all your life you don’t think you’ve ever seen so intense a hatred as the one that twists over his face right now.

“Your poor husband doesn’t have a clue, does he? No matter. I’m sure the charm you have over him will break when I kill you. He’ll thank me for it, most likely.”

He licks his lips, eyes bright with anticipation. He knows he has you cornered.

“But if you’re going to die anyway, why not have a little fun with you first, ey? Your lord said you like it, after all.”

He lunges at you, and you let out a cry, surprising yourself. You cannot remember the last time you made a noise.

I cannot speak, but I can scream.

This unexpected boon gives you a brief flare of optimism. Your cry, however, is quickly cut off by Bormul’s heavy palm as he presses it against your mouth. You struggle, twisting your head until his grip is slightly loosened, and then you bite, hard, with teeth made for ripping flesh, and you taste the intoxicating hot metal rush of blood in your mouth. He lets out a stifled curse and pulls his hand from your mouth, then slams his other hand around your neck, cutting off your next budding scream before it can even reach your bloodied lips.

“Keep quiet, you undead brat,” he spits. Your bite only seems to have spurred him on, as his movements are redoubled in effort. He clumsily pulls off his belt with his still-bleeding hand. The smell of his freshly flowing blood is almost making your eyes roll back in your skull with thirst, even as your vision grows dark around the edges from his choking grip. He laughs as he shifts his trousers down, mistaking your hunger for lust.

“By the nine hells, you really are a salacious little whore, ey?”

You’ve never felt fear like the feeling that churns in your chest now, but your spluttering gasps are growing fainter as his hold on your throat remains. You wonder hysterically if he’ll have killed you before he can have his fun. You hope so. The ostentatious layering of the silk and lace of your skirts seems to be giving him some difficulty. The call of the darkness has never sounded so appealing. You could follow it happily to your own end. Until this moment you never fully understood the appeal of Shar, but now that she holds out her arms you find yourself craving that cold, eternal embrace. True death would be a kindness. You’d sought it out yourself so recently - how strange that your body still tries to fight it when it is delivered by a stranger’s hand. Hadn’t you once told Astarion - the old Astarion, the true Astarion - that if you had to die, you’d want it to be like this? Strangulation? You’d laughed about it back then, bonding over morbid jokes as if your lives weren’t really at risk, and you’d laughed more when he declared beheading would be his method of choice. A perfectly noble choice for your perfect noble love. Your faculties are fading now, but you still feel faintly pleased that your last thoughts will be of a happier time, rather than the horrors of the present. The blackness is complete now. Your mind empties. All but one sensation fades.

Relief.

#astarion smut #astarion x reader #bg3 fanfiction #astarion x you #astarion x tav #bg3 astarion #astarion #bg3 spoilers #astarion romance #a gift a curse #astarion fanfic #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #baldurs gate astarion

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bengiyo · 6 months

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Shadow Ep 4 Stray Thoughts

Last time, GIRLS. Girls from their sister school visited to workshop and then held auditions for Hamlet. A girl named Cha-aim took a shine to Dan, and Nai noticed! I like Cha-aim; she knows herself and told Josh to take a chill. Earlier, Nai took Dan with him to see a monk, who gave us some lore about defunct practices to float bodies down to the lake to help manage wild ghosts. The monk also taught Dan about lucid dreaming, giving us all new horrors to consider including domestic violence, institutionalization, and drowning. We left at Dan seeing the ghost of his father, which Nai confirmed, and the drama teacher told Dan that his father was in a coma.

Lots of trigger warnings for this episode including domestic violence, guns, institutionalization, suicide, child abuse, and cancer.

Oof, Dan definitely does not care for his father.

Let me just say that I greatly appreciate how they aren't lightening everyone's skin in this show.

Episode 4: Chess

Of course they put Nai in a closet. 🙄

The Brother really believed that excuse? More likely he just wasn't concerned.

Oh, here comes the terrible backstory. Bracing.

We've seen Took quite a few times around GMMTV, Dee Hup House, and such. She worked with Singto a bit on Friend Zone. I haven't seen Kik myself before, but he's experienced.

Thankfully, Dan wasn't hit by that bullet, but of course the mom was institutionalized and not the dad who's drunk and beating his family.

Incredible lighting choices on this hospital scene where the mom is unwell. She's in the blue, and Dan is in orange.

I am a person who believes in forgiveness, but I wouldn't spend my energy trying to make Dan forgive his dad.

Oh, interesting. Why is Anurak addressed as a priest in the past but only as a brother now? I've never heard of someone giving up holy orders but maintaining his vows. Tempted to view this as a means of avoiding cultural confusion with the dad.

Man, this dad is insufferable.

I don't like this goodbye at all. She's going to hurt herself and she knows it.

I'm so sad that Dan is the one who found her.

When he says he met someone at home and such... I hope this isn't a different kind of abuse.

Dan spends years alone with a drunk, abusive dad.

Holy fuck. Is Dan allergic to shellfish and he forced him to eat shrimp? He tried to kill his own son. What the fuck.

Whose identity is hidden in this shadow, and are they the person who potentially abused Dan?

Okay, I do love when a supernatural element lets us have moments like this. This was so ugly and foreboding, but it is one of the most stylistic and impactful things I've seen all year.

What the fuck happens to Dan every time he goes into the water, and why is he seeing Trin again??

I'm so heavy after that episode. That was so ugly. The implications of abuse surrounding Dan are so worrisome, and I'm also worried about that last gross line about becoming like his father before he died. I suppose if we had to start doing horror BL, I'm glad it's as emotionally nuanced as this and reckoning with the reality of this kind of trauma.

#shadow the series #thai bl #thai drama #bl series #Ben watches

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ianthe-is-a-bitch-and-i-love-her · 4 months

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Decided to break my recent novel dry spell with In The Roses of Pieria, and it was a great choice. Strong character-driven plot, strong characters to drive that plot (I absolutely loved Fiadh), and some really solid world building that managed the very difficult balancing act of keeping the details sparse without making the setting feel either underdeveloped or surreal, which is a real achievement in my opinion. Lots of great references to Sappho and ancient Mediterranean history, which was a happy coincidence for me since I've been reading a bunch of collected history on pre-imperial Rome and its contemporaries recently. The main romances were really compelling - lots of heavy passion and longing and elegant prose that really made those Gothic romance feelings hit hard. I do think the Gothic horror elements could've been more intense though. I liked what was there, but having recently watched Fall of the House of Usher, I couldn't help but find it lacking. The atmosphere of tension and mystery and unease just kinda falls away around the 2/3s mark. Nitpicks aside, I'm excited for the sequel. If you're interested, you might also have a glance through the author's tumblr @villainapologistsanonymous - I've recommended some of her work on this blog before.

#the wlw review #in the roses of pieria #seriously though fiadh is so hot clara has excellent taste #and I won't spoil it but the ending set upbthe next book to dig into what i thought was the most compelling #part of the worldbuilding not yet explored

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eaglefairy · 3 months

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We hit Agniratha today, folks! We're getting close, and it's very apparent that my roommate still believes in the Bionis as a force for good. *pained laughter*

We were fooling around with the appearances (after accidentally wiping all the appearance options on Sharla oops) and like. Ok I'll try to get the picture later but the legar II shirt with eryth I everything else looks really good as an outfit on Melia. She looks like a knight or like she's armored for war or something, it's super cool

Literally right up to the transporter she was talking about crashing into the city and being ready for resistance from the people living there and I'm just like. :(

She still loves Dickson btw. She was worried for him fighting the Mechon in the Havres at Sword Valley

"It's so sad, like I know they're destructive but they're just animals. It's just in their nature, it's not their fault they're from a bygone era and they don't have a place in it anymore." - roommate, about the fossilized Telethia, shattering my heart into a million pieces

"So is Zanza just evil? Why did he attack?" Yes.

Vanea: "[Fiora was chosen] because you are close to Shulk, the Heir to the Monado." Roommate: "Oh, so you picked her so that Meyneth wouldn't hate the Bionis anymore." Me, internally: Weeeelllll...not quite...

Ok but seriously that plot point makes barely any sense. How did they know that Fiora is close to Shulk? Did Mumkhar tell them? That's all I can think of, but even then the timeline makes no sense! Before the attack on Colony 9, Shulk was just a weapons researcher with a heavy interest in the Monado, that's all Mumkhar would've known about him when he went to the Mechonis. It requires quite the leap of logic to get from Mumkhar, for some reason, telling Vanea about who spends the most time with the Monado these days, and also explaining who his sweetheart is, to "this must be the Heir to the Monado and I need to kidnap Fiora to be Meyneth's vessel". It just doesn't make sense (although I do like the way it plays into my funny little retelling thoughts)

Wait uh Vanea just teleported. I. I forgot she could do that. Apparently. Apparently she can do that??? I'm going to chalk it up to being in Agniratha and move on

Man I don't know what is wrong with this Shulk but he's physically incapable of not drawing all the aggro all the time. He has an aggro down V gem! Stop drawing attention!

Ok well like. part of it is the arts spam. but that's not her fault hitting buttons is just fun that's why I like to play Melia and just spam elementals until things die

As we were wrapping up, we had this conversation: Roommate: "Yknow, I'm going to be sad when Alcamoth blows up." Me: aware of the Horrors Me: "Yeah, it's a good city." Roommate: "It's a good city."

#xenoblade chronicles #xenoblade chronicles 1 #roommate chronicles part 1 #I think we're on track to hit Mechonis Core next weekend #I'm sad that we're almost done but it's eclipsed by being so. so. SO excited for the Core #she does already know that shulk dies but honestly that's like 5th on the list of Absolute Fuckery happening in there

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heartfullofleeches · 2 years

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I hope you don't mind hypotheticals, but I had an idea. What if, through some miracle, love of the reader became intrinsically linked to not just Lee, but her physical form as well, to the point that it might even influence Lucille if she were to become a separate consciousness from Lee. Imagine then the two becoming separated physically, yet Lucille has a completely human body, whereas Lee still has some shapeshifting capabilities you mentioned a while ago. Imagining Lucille as a separate entity that, while more aggressive and distant, is still attached to reader to the same degree Lee is, to the point of "cooperation" being achievable.

(What an interesting idea! I did some slight editing where Lee has the "human" body as she is the "host" personality. Hope you don't mind!) Tw: heavy body horror elements, small mentions of cannibalism and self harm.

The young woman stares at herself in the bathroom mirror. Lee, or at least the one who calls herself by that name, gazes into her own sunken eyes. The memories have started to blur together; the ones that make her who she is- and the ones she choose to forget. The crimes committed in the name of love and hunger. The reality of what she is, lying right beneath her skin.

Branding a kitchen knife, Lee braces herself for what's to come. She stabs the blade into her flesh, pulling it up the length of her arm. It takes a moment for the wound to bleed; a single, misplaced second her body takes to replicate a normal cut. It doesn't matter. Even without the passable anomaly, she can see what hides within her body. The red tendrils that make up her entire form; mending back together to repair the muscle and tendrils she'd torn through. She had even felt the knife hit bone.

Lee lurches over the sink, gripping her arm in disbelief. She didn't want to accept this- who she really was, but every time she closes her eyes she sees the what she has done or rather, what the other her had done. The other Lee, who snuffed the hungers of both her stomach and heart. Lucille.

Lee was weak. She couldn’t act on her true nature herself, she couldn't stand between you and the other people who longed for your affection, but Lucille could. She had everything Lee didn't, except for a heart - until recently. Lately, that starved, animalistic side had found a new appetite it needed to satisfy. The lust for companionship.

Lee's love for you had bleed over to that side of her; turning that sentient urge into its own complete conscious mind. A hostile entity with only two goals and would go to any extreme to reach them. Evolve and to protect her new found heart by any means. Lee didn't want that kind of life. She wanted to be free from the desire to consume human flesh and to live a normal life with you. She wanted to be human.

Lee digs her nails into the skin of her shoulders. She wanted to get rid of it all. This body made of roots and stolen flesh. Her fears of being unloved. Lucille- but she knows she's not strong enough to stay hole without it. That she'll fall apart, and become something completely incapable of earning your love. All she wanted was that, but it went so fat beyond the human understanding of the word. Even now, she could feel that other side of her growing; swallowing her doubts as it had done in the past. What is she if not a mockery of nature.

Breathe...

It speaks- she speaks. That voice in the back of her head that now had its own agenda; its own name. Lucille tells her to calm down; to gain control of her emotions. Lee doesn't want to. She just wants it out. Her inhumanity; the burning desire of being by your side.

"Get out. Get out!"

You need me.

Her nails break through the flesh; splitting tears that rip down the curve of her spine. Her entire body hurts. It feels so heavy. Something, something is growing from the root of her spine. Fingers protruding from the holes in her flesh; extending into the length of an arm as the roots within her body mend into another form. She falls to her knees as the mass continues to grow. A torso- a face. It separates from her as it grows beyond what her body can take; writhing on the bathroom floor as the rest of its tendrils weave together into a humanoid form.

Lee exhales; holding her shivering body as her eyes remain glued to the floor. She can feel her mangled flesh repairing itself as the entity on the other side of the room stands. Hesitantly, Lee looks over at it.

It was like a copy of her, but at the same time not. Its body was still the bright red color of her roots; holes littered throughout the woven structure of its new form. It had no face, only two narrow, grey eyes that bore into Lee's soul as their eyes met. Lucille lets put a shutter of a hush as she kneels before Lee, wiping the tears that stream down the other woman's face.

"Shhhh."

"W... what are you?"

"You already know the answer."

Lee looks down at her shaking hands. "What... what am I?"

"Human..."

Lucille lifts her her arm, stabbing a finger into her "flesh". It doesn't bleed, the roots simply merging back together when she removes her hand. She points at Lee's, blood dried into skin and staining the sleeve of her shirt.

"We are not the same, but we coexist as we have a common goal."

"You mean... them?"

Lucille nods. "Amongst other things. You have a face, a heart. Something we both do not possess, but you coward from what needs to be done. You are my face, I am your impulses. We are one"

She holds out her hand. "Do we have an agreement?'

Lee looks around at the floor. At the blood stained into the tiles. Not a drop of it came from Lucille. She takes her hand.

"...Yes."

#Lee my oc #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #yandere insert #female yandere #yandere drabble #yandere fic #yandere writing #yandere monster #yandere female

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zenatness · 27 days

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Finished Rogue Trader.

The journal is probably the weakest part of the game. The information in it is often too vague to be helpful and several of the rumors don't update and hang around even when you've dealt with them which effectively renders the whole rumor section useless.

Unfortunately, leveling up was a chore rather than a reward. There was simply too much to choose from and my lack of familiarity with the system made a lot of the decisions guesswork, and you constantly leveled up. It was a relief when I hit level 55 and could just enjoy the game. An auto-level option for the companions in particular would have helped immensely.

That being said, even coming straight from Baldur's Gate 3, I found the game to be really fun and engaging. Solid Warhammer-vibes and enjoyable characters, art was on point, good writing, good voice actors. Could do with more voiced parts and more character portraits for the npcs though. It also had a lot more different game elements going on than I thought it would.

I also learned that some people are just determined to always be the worst and apparently embarrassing a lord by flirting with his wife in public is how you make him a loyal subject. As for the ending...

There I was, unwittingly raising a god-son (very different from a godson) and setting a good example to ensure that this little corner of the galaxy would become as close to a utopia as we could manage. I'd somehow only managed to max out relations with one faction, but it was the navy so a good chunk of them decided to side with me when the Imperium threw a hissy fit over the *checks notes* Emperor worshipping, Chaos-smiting, tithe paying rogue trader establishing a successful territory on the outskirts of the Imperium where people just don't suffer as much. Oh and something something xenos collaborating blabla god-son etc etc. The Imperium overreacted is what I'm saying. So now they can't come over anymore.

The game was so aeldari heavy that for a while I forgot there were other xenos factions (I was, admittedly, twirling my hair and batting my eyes at Nocturne the entire time). But that said, the first introduction to the necrons was both smooth and delivered on the "oh shit." It, uh, didn't keep giving that horror and fear when they proved embarrassingly weak in both space and regular battle, but still.

Heinrix informed his boss that the von Valussy was worth being branded a heretic for, as expected, and became my new master of whispers which... made so much sense that I had to take a moment and wonder how I hadn't even considered that. Good on him for becoming more than a trophy husband.

Jae disappeared from my ship and I couldn't find her, and after two turns around Footfall I gave up. To nobody's surprise I got her bad ending - dead in a gutter. Welp :I

Argenta... yeah pretty sure becoming a sister repentia was her bad ending. Not sure what I could have done to change that outcome.

The rest of the humans had either neutral or good endings, though I honestly can't tell with Idira's because it was so lackluster. Compared to everyone else's it was barely an ending tbh. Even Opticon-22 got more of an ending (second favorite npc, bless his lovely circuits etc, but like... Idira deserved more, you know?)

As for the xenos... Both Yrliet and Marazhai hung around on the ship for years and then went off and did their own thing. Their own thing being, ah, yes, becoming corsairs and pirates respectively and raiding in my corner of the galaxy together. After everything I did for you and your people. Ugh. You better invite me to the wedding. Abelard... will stay at home. Marazhai knows what he did.

At least Nocturne stayed in touch in his own way. Maybe he can do me a favor and take the wayward xenos allies by their pointy ears and teach them manners and gratitude.

Tease.

#rogue trader #fifth Warhammer game I've played #(if you can even count Inquisitor Martyr)#easily the best of them #still needs a bit of polish but definitely enjoyable #one major flaw is obviously the way that there's missing dialogue options when you bump into Nocturne after chapter 3 #I'm sure there's supposed to be an option that lets you pick the 7 foot tall man up and spin him around #but it just wasn't showing for me for some reason?#I had to settle for stiff politeness?#tragic

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ac-liveblogs · 1 year

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The tl;dr on Trigun Stampede is that it’s a good show, but*

This is the show that I watched on a whim bc I thought Vash was cute and it consumed my brain for the next three months. I do not regret that decision.

Heading into Trigun, I knew jackshit about it. I think the only character I could’ve recognised prior to this was 90s Vash (whose design I didn’t and still kind of don’t like!). I was too young for Adult Swim in the… very brief period of time that it was actually airing on Cartoon Network in Australia and I’m not sure if Trigun was even on it anyway, so I had absolutely no expectations walking in.

Obviously, the most notable thing about this show to a newcomer is the animation. It’s been interesting watching RWBY vol 9 and Stampede back to back, let’s say that much. It’s stellar. I think this is one of the prettiest shows I’ve watched in a very long time, and the combat animation is fluid, energetic and full of so much personality. I was still deciding how I felt about the show right up until episode 3 - Millions Knives’ debut - and as soon as I saw the attack on Jeneora I was hitting up my WatchPal to recommend it. I think you can definitely see where Studio Orange cut corners - some locations can feel very empty - but for what they actually want you to focus on, the show looks great.

Episode 4’s reveal of Wolfwood’s Punisher (and what it can do) lives in my head rent-free to this day, and quite frankly episode 12 is one of my favourite fight scenes in pretty much anything. A lot of love and attention to detail goes into these fights, and the choreography is fresh and exciting. Vash shooting at Nai resembling a 3rd-person shooter was so much fun. WatchPal was very patient with me constantly asking to pause, rewind, watch that scene again, pick out this or that detail. Sorry dude. Worth it to see how terribad a fighter Nai actually is, though, shit’s hilarious. I think that even if you don’t care for the plot, this show is worth watching just for the fight scenes and set pieces.

I think no one’s going to argue the plot is rushed, but what’s there is solid and interesting. This world is absolutely fascinating, and I had a lot of fun speculating on what was happening or what Nai’s goals were. The most fun I had was picking out the biblical themes (which I surprisingly know more of than I thought I did) and working out who was what was where and why, and I’ll be very curious to see where that all goes. I’m also an obnoxious Final Fantasy 7 purist, so I was obviously enjoying the heavy-handed pro-environmentalism themes and psychological horror elements. Nai was right until he was wrong. I’ll be… interested to see how this all resolves next season, because I’m not sure I’m meant to think Vash is right, exactly.

Vash is an enjoyable MC, though he’s kind of a woobie, huh? I watched Badlands Rumble in the middle of all this and was shocked at the difference in characterisation (incidentally, not a good movie!) He was definitely a lot goofier in eps 1 and 2, but things took a real turn in episode 3 that he never quite cheered up from so I’m hoping to see him in his natural habitat once things chill out. “He’s both the hero and the heroine” is a phrase that’s stuck with me since I learnt the screenwriter apparently said it, and it’s certainly made the way he’s written incredibly interesting to dissect symbolically.

Picking apart symbolism in this show is one of my favourite things to do with it.

Surprisingly, I think William Conrad is one of the more interesting characters in the show. I’m so fascinated by the logic behind everything he’s done. I want more of this dude, I thought Meryl was gonna murk him and was pleasantly surprised when she didn’t.

I like Wolfwood. I like narrative foils and homoerotic subtext. I think Wolfwood is potentially really interesting and didn’t get to shine in Stampede, but he’s got at least one whole season ahead of him and I am already predicting that Trimax is going to make me exceptionally mentally unwell about him. I can pick ‘em. I can sense it. I can smell blood in the water. I am also saying, right now and for posterity, that Wolfwood is going to die. He’s gonna die in Stampede, he’s gonna die in Maximum, he probably died in the 90s. Sorry. It’s gonna happen.

If this weren’t a 12 episode series and it would’ve been unsatisfying for it to happen here, I would’ve expected him to die redeeming himself after betraying Vash in July. Now we’re past his Judas phase, I’m wondering what the New Biblical Imagery he’s going to pick up to replace it will be bc as is, uh... dude by all means should probably just power walk really fast in the other direction and never be seen or heard from again.

Nai is a really fun and sympathetic villain right up until he's fun and an absolute monster, and I respect his deranged manner and willingness to wrangle that twincest subtext as close to actual text as he could possibly get it. I am SO curious how much of that was in the original because jesus christ. I felt bad for the guy and agree with him to a certain extent, but my feelings about Nai’s handling are going to have to wait until I see how Vash’s arc continues and what happens to Plants going forward. Vash doesn’t seem particularly motivated to change the status quo at this stage which is... interesting. We’ll see what happens.

I was very lukewarm on Meryl until eps 10-12. Now it’s the Zazie-Meryl Power Hour. As soon as I realised they were parallels my brain woke up. While I’m really ??? unsure about Wolfwood’s trajectory going forward, I am very excited for Meryl’s. It also helps she turned into a chain-smoking disaster senpai in the timeskip. She’s Mary Magdalene also. That’s really cool. I felt really smart when I figured out that really obvious connection, finally, in episode 11. (I know some bible but not that much bible.)

I… I don’t get points for figuring out which two biblical figures Vash is representative of. No one does. I do get points for noticing he yanked Wolfwood’s entire colour scheme when he started trying to kill Nai, though. That was cool. That fight was so fucking cool.

Trigun Stampede is a really fun show.

*But.

It is a show absolutely hamstrung by its episode count. When you’re dealing with either 12 or 24 episode seasons you’re inevitably going to run into problems when you’re not working with original material, and Stampede was having serious problems fitting in all the plot points that it needed to before the finale. This show’s pace is absolutely breakneck with absolutely no room to breathe, and in the end that means the main cast’s relationships suffer for it. I was very disappointed to find that I really liked Roberto in the episode that he died, and that was episode 10.

Episodes 10-12 leaves the implication of shenanigans and much stronger relationships than we got. That’s a real shame because the show roughly broke into Vash-Wolfwood, Vash-Nai and Meryl-Roberto with very little crossover - I know Vash/Meryl is a classic, but she ended up having more chemistry with Wolfwood, and any semblance of party dynamic evaporated once we got to Home. And speaking of Home, that lack of space between episodes and the necessity to explain Vash and Nai’s backstory ended up with us teleporting in and out, and the rest of the trip to July getting crammed off-screen. Integral scenes are missing - I had to consult a more knowledgeable coworker about the missing pieces of Wolfwood’s backstory so I could get his rough timeline (and age) actually explained to me, and I did find myself wanting to explore this world a lot more than we had time to do.

Like. Seriously. What the hell is up with Legato. Who are you. How are you doing that. Why are you here. Why is your hair blue.

The photo of the group in episode 12 in particular really makes me feel like there’s a lot we missed out on without a couple of breather episodes here and there. I think with the exception of Vash and Nai, whose relationship is quite interesting and intense, I enjoyed the concepts of the characters more than the actual execution. However, I’m also 100% sure that Nai and Vash was the Absolute Main Focus of this season, so, I can let this go if season 2 delivers.

Sorry Vashwood, you’re very fun in theory and I like you a lot, but we’re kind of pulling at threads here. Trimax is apparently gonna be an Experience though.

I try to take the circumstances of a work’s creation into account when I talk about it, and between a 12 or 24 episode series I understand why Studio Orange chose 12, but Stampede really needed 15 or 16 to shine with the narrative it wanted to tell. I also understand why Stampede chose to seed future plot points that went absolutely nowhere this season - Wolfwood’s beef with Livio, Legato and Elendira being prime examples (christ this guy is gonna be busy in season 2), and the trip Home specifically after the Sand Steamer feels a bit pointless at this stage - but I can’t help but wonder if that time would have been better spent elsewhere.

Although, a lot of fans couldn’t even deal with Milly’s absence even though it took about 5 seconds for me, someone who confused Trigun with Cowboy Bebop until quite recently, to work out what Meryl’s rough character arc was and why Milly was absent (but pretty clearly coming back later in very predictable way), so maybe Studio Orange was being wise by assuring, uh, certain fans they hadn’t forgotten or maliciously chosen to delete these characters.

I’ve heard Trigun wasn’t as popular in Japan as it was in the West, so maybe that 12 episode pick was playing it safe, but since S2 has been greenlit and Stampede seems to have been a pretty big success, hopefully Orange can spring for 24 episodes this time and make this show really shine.

Anyway, I’m gonna read the manga now.

#ac watches trigun #belated stampede review

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shouts-into-the-void · 1 year

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Dear Endless Expanse of Space,

Just finished These Fleeting Shadows by Kate Alice Marshall and I was pleasantly surprised. The ending left a bit to be desired and I found the main character a bit melodramatic at times, but Marshall really nailed the horror elements and the plot twist hit me like a truck. The main themes are eat the rich, fuck the patriarchy, and the all-consuming power of love, which it deals with pretty well even if it becomes a little heavy handed towards the latter half of the book. If you're not a fan of body horror, I might sit this one out though.

*Spoilers/Plot*

The story surrounds Helen Vaughn as she, her mother Rachel Vaughn, and her mother's boyfriend Simon reconnect with Rachel's estranged family for her father, Leopold's, funeral. We're told that he died of heart problems, which was unusual as "The Masters of Harrow" (the significance of which I will explain in a minute) tend to live a long time.

So they go through the funeral proceedings, the family is rich and snobby with the few exceptions of Helen's uncle Caleb and cousins Desmond and Celia, aaaaand then Helen sees some foxglove in Leopold's corpse's ribcage and hears him telling her to "Find the center of the spiral" because, oh yeah, the house is modeled after a labyrinth, and she understandably freaks out.

After the funeral, Caleb, Leopold's widow Iris, and his brother Eli, pull Rachel and Helen aside to inform them that Grandpa Mansplain Manipulate Manslaughter has left all of Harrowstone Hall and $40 million to Helen if she stays on the grounds for one year and if she says no then everyone else in the family except Iris also loses their inheritance. Apparently the will was mysteriously changed shortly before his death and everyone agrees this was to punish Rachel for abandoning the family, as she is pretty much terrified by Harrow for reasons she can't remember.

She initially refuses, but the car breaks down at the end of the driveway and while waiting for Rachel and Simon to go back and fetch help, Helen wanders into the woods in pursuit of a little girl with an obscured face who randomly appears asking her for help. The girl leads her to a cemetery, where Helen meets The Harrow Witch, who just so happens to be a really cute girl named Bryony who absolutely hates her and her family, but is the only person to tell her the truth about anything. Helen is obviously in love immediately, and goes back to the house. Far what are actually really unclear reasons, Helen decides to stay after all.

She begins to try and find answers as to what happened during Nicholas' experiments, who killed Leopold and Caleb's daughter Jessamine (both whom The Other takes the form of in order to speak, called Figments), why local girls with the family eyes are going missing, and how to survvie the year as Helen becomes increasingly more sick. While Helen and the Vaughns believe The Other is a monster that needs to be contained, Bryony believes it's simply misunderstood and wants to free it.

Helen slowly gleans that Harrow is actually a cage built for a creature called "The Other" that seems to be a god from another world that founder of Harrow Nicholas Vaughn, his wife Annelise, and friend Dr. Raymond accidentally set loose in our world after their experiments trying to make the human mind able to comprehend The Other (in which they lobotomize Dr. Raymond's ward Mary Beaumont and open her up to it, causing her to go insane) accidentally binds it to a child which Nicholas claims appeared when she saw The Other, but is suggested to actually be his due to some...interesting journal entries.

Throughout the book, Helen develops a romantic relationship with Bryony and becomes close with Desmond and Celia, the only Vaughns outside Rachel who don't suck, likely because they also have no idea what's going on.

Eventually, after months of sleepwalking, being attacked by The Other's monstrous creations, Celia's father dying, Helen slowly dying and nearly contorting into one of the monsters, and everyone being shady af; Helen, Bryony, Desmond, and Celia translate the last of Nicholas' diary and discover he killed the child bound to The Other and dismembered her in order to keep it confused/use its powers for himself, and the family is a pretty much a murderous cult that repeatedly binds The Other to an illegitimate Vaughn child and repeats the process every time it starts to heal. The four decide to dig up the girls' bones and put them back together so they can talk to The Other, but Desmond and Celia leave because Desmond knows information the reader doesn't.

So they go into the murder chamber and arrange the bones and ask it what's up.

Helen is The Other.

Um. What.

In a twist of events that hit me over the head with a hammer, it turns out that Helen is actually a piece of The Other that it split off itself so that at least some of it could be free, and then changed Rachel's memories so that she'd believe Helen was her daughter and escape with her. We did see throughout the story that a lot of Helen's personality was similar to The Other, in that she could see inside of people (ie. The foxglove in Leopold's chest because he was poisoned with Foxglove) and has an unavoidable need to create things (using animal bones). Also Simon is one of The Other's creations. Helen then erased her own memories so she could live a normal life, although people were afraid of her because they could tell she wasn't normal and was altering their minds.In another twist, Bryony knows this already because she can't be fooled by The Other and so does Desmond because Helen told him while she was sick and then forgot.

And so does Caleb! And everyone else...in the family...and Celia just told them that Helen remembers to try and help...

They kill Helen.

She doesn't stay dead, and they just keep killing her every time she tries to escape. Eventually they trap her in an endless loop in which she wanders the halls in a trance because it's "more humane" and the rest of the year passes as they prepare to sacrifice her and make Caleb Master of Harrow. Caleb has also told everyone that Helen killed Jessamine, even though it turns out to be him after they tried to kill Celia and it failed because Eli and Victoria whisked her off to London.

Desmond, Celia, and Bryony try to devise a way to break the loop, but Rachel ends up doing it by accident when she demands Helen to tell her why she made her think she loved her, slaps her in the face when she calls her mom, and then starts crying in the hallway. Helen runs away, pursued by Caleb, when Eli shoves her in the library and clears her way to the door. She sees Rachel again and stops, Caleb catches up and shoots her but Rachel jumps in the way and nearly dies, so Helen just reshapes reality so the bullet doesn't exist. They will still proceed to try and shoot her, btw.

Helen flees, finds Bryony, and hides in a derelict cabin. Eli finds them and reveals that the last child to be murdered was Leopold's, and Eli had formed a bond with her after seeing how his brother used and abandoned her mother. In revenge, Leopold had made him be the one to dismember her, but Eli had instead given her a proper burial which allowed The Other to heal enough to form Helen. Eli has been on Helen's side the entire time, because two years ago she got sick and remembered again, and the two made a plan that involved Eli poisoning his brother, changing the will, and also cutting off Helen's hand at one point.

To conclude the plan, Helen turns herself in and goes through with the ceremony, before refusing the poison Caleb gives her and proclaiming herself Mistress of Harrow with Caleb as her sacrifice, as she had previously carried out the necessary components for the ritual and Desmond, Celia, and Bryony all recognise her as the rightful heir. Caleb gets stabby, so Helen fully sheds her flesh-suit and kills him and Iris, sparing Victoria. Eli makes the decision to remain in the chamber while The Other demolishes Harrow and the others flee, and so she turns herself into his niece and alters his mind so he believes he's spending one last day at the park with her while he dies.

Fully The Other now, they remain at the ruins of Harrow and creates, up until Bryony returns (presumably a few years later as she mentions her father wouldn't let her live on the grounds) and refuses to leave until they decide who to be, promising to love them no matter what they decide and revealing the others haven't returned because they believe Helen is dead. The Other decides to be Helen again, and live together with Bryony in a cottage on the grounds, promising to one day leave and see the world.

...

So that was a very long synopsis, but I like explaining things so this is what you get. There were a lot of little details I left out, so definitely give it a read yourself.

#I think my favorite part was Eli basically telling everyone to go fuck themselves as his secret. I love him #I hope he and Mary are talking shit about the Vaughns in the afterlife.#these fleeting shadows #kate alice marshall #plot summary #do you think Bryony spent the time Helen was bedridden googling “cute things to call your omnipotent god girlfriend”#blog #letters #horror #tw body horror #body horrow cw #mystery #sapphic #lesbian #lesbians #sapphic horror #does a genderless primordial god in the body of a girl count as a demigirl?

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risu5waffles · 10 months

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Always on TEN Time, Except When We're Not

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i never really got too into the meme/IP/copypasta horror stuff in LBP. Not a knock against it, but i was already pretty thoroughly aged out of most of the stuff, or too out of the loop to really get the hook; like Jeff the Killer and whatnot, i knew of, but i didn't really know. It's also, i just think you've got to push the kit a bit harder to get a horror feel from it. Like, you can definitely get horror out of cute things, but you're working at a bit of a disadvantage. Even levels that go heavy in on atmosphere and vibe still have to deal wiv the fact that the player character, regardless of how you costume them, just radiate pleasantness. Impossible? Definitely not. Difficult? Absolutely. But there was that kerfluffle wiv CrimsonFang9's stuff getting taken down recently, some of it having been sitting up on their Earth for actually 10years, and i figured i'd have a look. However i feel about horror levels, they were (are still?) a big part of the LBP community pot. i hadn't realized this was going to be a Nightmare on Elm Street level, honestly. i figured it would just be a general horror; but it still wound up working out. The presentation is all solid, both the "real world" and Freddy's boiler room of doom. The house just sitting in an empty create mode was... eh... but, you know, fine? The Freddy costume too, was pretty nice. i would be lying if i said i hadn't had fun wiv this one, but it didn't give me the spoops either, unfortunately.

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This one's actually a pretty decent little survival challenge. Nicely presented environment, clearly defined hazard behaviour, parse-able field, and limited, focused mechanics. Of course i played like crud, but i still had fun. i'm pretty sure the idea for my score bubble spawning ghostbulbs came from here, tho' i'd need to check dates to see if it was just a parallel evolution thing.

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It was a real disappointment when this one broke, because it's a real good one up to that point. Some very neat bits of grappling hook gameplay, and lots of character to the level; although i would say the reliance on browns and tans, while thematically appropriate, could leave things looking a touch washed out. Also, positive, but the way they had that one bounce pad climbing section timed out so the next train would be right beneath you when you hit the apogee of your jump? Chef's kiss. But then we get to the break, and it just breaks. It feels like a pure physics issue, but... it's weird? Usually, unless the bit has been just set up horribly wrong, leaving the level and trying it again can kind of joggle things a bit? Like, what ever random bits of timing and impact that added up to something not deploying the way it should won't in another circumstance. We saw that back in... i think it was called Golden Chain Reaction? i can't find the episode number right now. Anyway. Like, looking at the video now, and i'm pretty sure those are just regular bolts, so i can't figure why they don't just drop wiv the momentum. The could be spring bolts set too tight, but that feels like something Porkyfern should have noticed? There was one try where the bit was juuuuuust about to swing out enough that gravity should have taken its course, and at the last moment popped right back up again, and i was a little crushed.

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i really wound up liking this one. Very straightforward as far as gameplay, but lots of little mechanical interactions, and a good sense of momentum throughout. But what really sells it for me is that great music track, and the implication that the decorative elements are synced to it. i say implication, because i have exactly no rhythm, so i honestly can't judge it on a granular level, but i kinda get it well enough that if you can make a good show of it, i'll usually buy in. i feel like saying Just Shapes and Beats is one of my favourite examples of the genre is a slight on the devs, but i really did love that game, and how they worked the music into things.

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This level... Like, presentation-wise, it's a solid example of a common style i've always liked. It doesn't really push it much, but it does it well. The gameplay is pretty fun. i've always liked using the paintinator as a tool for level interactions, as opposed to just going shooty on enemies (also, a lot of creators do a terrible job judging how many hit points enemies should have before it stops being fun, and starts being spongy-boring). Some of it was actually pretty tricky, tho' that felt heavier on the front end, when it should have been on the back. By all rights, very solid high end of mid-tier (i don't mean mid-tier disparagingly here, either; i've found a lot of levels i've really enjoyed that may not be quite polished enough to be top of the pops). But then you get to that level break, and i still don't know what the heck is going on there. chronos says that's a thing that can happen wiv Attract-o-gel, and i trust him on the point, but i've literally never run into it before. And the way it just totally bricks the run if you die there even once. It was just serious weirdsville.

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We talked about this Friday, and it's just as awesome now as it was then. Go play Sacklantis.

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[ed.'s note: see below the part II video]

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i wound up bundling the gameplay levels wiv their respective cutscene counterparts, just to keep the Archive a bit tidier, and because the parts flowed into each other so well (honestly, if i had been xSLEVENx i would have published the second part of each set as a sub-level, so you wouldn't get the scoreboard break in there). That being said, i love these levels. The story is engaging and the character interactions are pretty cute. The robo-buddy as an actual object is quite well put together. The both play very well, wiv a clear, if gentle, difficulty curve; and the presentation... just *mwah*, so good. This is probably just selective perception, and it's definitely anecdotal, but i feel like sci-fi levels tend to go heavier in on visually busy environments, generally to the detriment of presentation. Lots of decorations, lots of heavily textured materials, and it's just so easy to get lost in it all. i feel like it's a hard balance to hit between "this is a recognizable sci-fi place" and "ok, but now i can't tell what's going on," but Obscurity pulls off the whole thing quite deftly, and it was a delight just looking at. Did have a bit of a funny sequence break in the first one, where you can skip a whole chunk of gameplay if you're willing to do it in perfect darkness. i wonder if i still have that b-roll lying around. i have to ditch stuff pretty quick, because the ps4 only has so much space on it.

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This one took a lot longer than it should have, because i was trying to read everything, and my Japanese reading ability is, at best, passable; but i really wanted to know if i could get the joke. i guess the joke is... grampas are inherently funny/creepy? Something something maybe it's funny if you have the cultural background? The level itself is fine. Pretty kludgy, but it is an LBP1 meme-level, so that's to be expected. The boss was kind of neat wiv needing to slingshot to hit it, using momentum and physics and all. i mean, it was also a total pain in the ass, but i did appreciate it. Eh... not every Jside level was a winner, even if there was a solid density of great creators.

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i really should have bundled all the Neon Dimension levels together, but when i first started the Archive, i felt a little leery about giving too much space all at once to one creator, especially one who is also a good friend. Which, typing that out feels also shitty and unfair to chronos, so... yeah, i just should have bundled them all together. i think of the main ND levels, this one is my favourite. It really nails the whole "level building itself" vibe, and keeps things very visually clean and parse-able. The gameplay is super fun, and the secrets were a nice, neat addition (i did ask chronos some pointers so i could definitely get all of them in the recording, but i'm pretty sure i've found them on my own before. They're well hidden, but not impossibly hidden, which i feel like some creators struggle wiv). i'm honestly a bit shocked this one never picked up a Team Pick, because it is really a super high quality level.

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So that's our ten for this go about. Some real winners in there, if any of the folx reading are still actually playing. Tomorrow's my day off and there's nothing i absolutely have to do, aside from a little editing that i'm going to make a strong go of getting done tonight. There are a few things i probably ought to do, but these last few weeks have been pretty intense emotionally, both in the good ways and the not so good ways (i feel like it's important to let y'all know i do have very good days sometimes, and even the very bad days aren't an all the time thing, they just kinda feel like they are, you know?), and i really want a day were i can just chill. i finally managed to get This Is How You Lose the Time War (it was a whole thing where, i couldn't buy it on my iPhone, but it turns out i could read it on it, but i had to do the actual purchase off my paperwhite for... reasons, i guess? Which meant i had to find where i put the darn thing, and then charge it, 'cause i haven't used it forever because i have the fucking Kindle app on my iPhone <pant, pant, pant>). i'll probably sit down a restart reading it from the start. i like what i've read so far, but reading it in momentary chunks while working the register is maybe not the best way to appreciate what's going on. Or, given the subject matter, maybe it is? It's no good for my absorption or memory, tho', that's for sure.

#littlebigplanet #little big planet #littlebite-sizedarchive #lbsa #lbp1 #lbp2 #lbp3 #lbp #Youtube

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