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#the most vivid and important part
wander-wren · 2 years
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with the graphic novels i’m being prompted again to consider trc tv show teaser trailer concept that has lived in my brain for?? over a year at this point??
just imagine. a sleepy virginian small town from above, a girl pedaling down the sidewalk on a bike. blue’s voice narrating as we slowly get closer.
“being the only normal one in a psychic family is bad enough.” cut to blue’s face as she rides. “what’s worse is being the one with a curse.”
a series of quick flashbacks of various women looking nervous, sad, and/or apologetic to blue at varying ages. maura’s voice. “if you kiss your true live, he will die.”
blue, on her bike, skids to a halt near aglionby academy. she watches the boys in their fancy uniforms and their arrogant smiles, their raven emblems. still narrating, she says, “so i have two rules. one, don’t talk to boys, because they’re trouble. and don’t talk to raven boys, because they’re bastards.”
she pushes off again. pan out to a darkening, cloudy sky. “you can’t outrun fate. but i didn’t expect it to find me so soon.”
the graveyard, st mark’s eve, with the dead marching past. then blue’s perspective, of only one lone boy, and neeve hisses, “take his name. he’ll die within the year.”
blue follows as the camera zeroes in on the boy’s face, his aglionby sweater, his rain-soaked shoulders. he stumbles to his knee, fingers splayed in the dirt. blue asks, “what’s your name?”
“gansey.”
the screen goes black.
“is that all?”
“that’s all there is.”
music slams in alongside a montage of scenes, gansey, ronan, adam, noah. these have some dialogue and are long enough to establish their personalities and relationships with each other. mostly generic/immediately pre-canon things like the dolly/car dragging incident, but also a few early book one scenes. included near the beginning is gansey asking, “what do you know about welsh kings?” and explaining, “legend says he’s only sleeping, and whoever wakes him gets a favor.”
blue’s voice comes back near the middle of that: “i have my rules. we were never supposed to meet.”
half-second flashes of her meeting gansey in nino’s, adam outside in the parking lot, whenever she met ronan and noah officially.
“i guess i was never any good at following the rules.”
another montage like before, now showing all of them in various scenes from book one, getting faster, more jumbled, and soundless except for the music as we go. it culminates in flashes of the cabeswater scene, completely incomprehensible but full of fear. in the end, adam lands on his knees in the forest, hands splayed in the dirt. gansey’s voice screams, “adam!”
screen goes black again. blue says, “this is a year people die.”
[the raven cycle, coming 20XX]
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Also I am. Constantly forgetting how fucking funny Hunter is. We never give him enough credit for how funny he is because his life is so fucked up but I swear 90% of his lines are just bit after bit after bit. He's not even trying either. Anytime he actively tries to make a joke it falls flat but if you just put him in a Scenario he'll find a way to be so over invested and yet out of touch/at odds with whatever's going on. He's so autistic
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The Most Innocent Sinner
Dean Winchester Masterlist
Summary: For everyone, she's the shy, pure, little Y/n. Dating Dean Winchester is like going on dates with the complete opposite of her. So it is a very nice surprise when Dean learns how kinky she actually is by finding her collection of sex toys.
Pairing: Dean Winchester x F!Reader
Rating: 18+
Content warning: Sex toys, masturbation (male and female), dirty talk
Square filled: Dildos for @spnkinkevents / “Now that’s something you definitely shouldn’t try at home.” for @jacklesversebingo / masturbation for @anyfandomkinkbingo / “Unfortunately, I’m turned on by that.” for @anyfandomgoesbingo
A/n: Finding a title is so hard. I got stuck on this one for way too long. Big thanks to my friends that helped me!
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From the outside, Y/n looked like a Saint. Cute, she wasn't very tall and almost sickly shy, and her social anxiety didn't help her case at all. 
Since she didn’t have many friends, Y/n spent her time at the library surrounded by stories that made her forget how alone she felt. The characters on these yellowed sheets would never judge or criticize her, it was a comfort in which she really liked to immerse herself, especially after a hard day.
It was also where she met the Winchester brothers for the first time.
For someone like Y/n, the complete opposite of popular, invisible to people even when she was in the same room with them, the Winchesters were the pinnacle of perfection. Bodies built like gods, well-defined faces, piercing eyes, they gave off a strong and dominating aura that attracted the gaze of everyone in their path. And Y/n was no exception.
The moment the two brothers walked near her table at the library, there was no longer any need to read. Her book closed by itself in front of her, as she no longer held it open, her eyes fixedly stuck on the two men. Following their directions with her gaze, she turned her head, almost hurting her neck.
The colors around her suddenly seemed more vivid. The sounds, sweeter to the ear. She strained her ear to better listen to their conversations. And it was then that the stories she loved reading so much... Became reality.
Y/n had always had a habit of making herself fade away. Not wanting to attract attention, remaining discreet and making herself as small as possible. But the moment she saw them, it was like a light bulb went on inside her, and filled her with a life she had never really felt. And she decided to change that.
She didn’t want to hide anymore.
It was an adventure awaiting her, just like in her books. Filled with villains, monsters, but also angels, laughter, food and finally, a place where she belonged. It didn't take long for her to take part in their lives, quickly becoming a full member of their families. Although she wasn’t trained to be in the field hunting monsters, her lifelong experience of extensive reading was too vital and important to refuse her help.
Initially, Y/n was assigned to research. It was perfect for her, she could show them how efficient she was at this task so they would give her more to do eventually. Quickly, she climbed the ranks in the Winchesters' trust and became closer to them.
Everything about her personality was perfect to fit with Sam's. And yet, as the months stretched into years, she inevitably grew closer to Dean. Some will say that opposites flock together, and they are not wrong. Dean was the opposite of Y/n, stubborn, he didn't hesitate to say what was on his mind and loved seeing the adorable expression that invaded her face when he made inappropriate or worse, sexual comments. Immediately, Y/n would disappear from the room almost like magic, or she would become so embarrassed that he took pity and immediately changed the subject.
Y/n had a purity that Dean never had, and it was one of the reasons why even after all this time knowing her, he was still reluctant to let her come with them on hunts. Or even to involve her in anything that could endanger her or defile this purity. If he could keep her from losing that sparkle in her eyes, he would, no matter the cost.
After a few months of dating, Y/n finally agreed to live in the bunker with them. Dean helped her move in, putting her things in a room other than his, and although not sharing the same bed disappointed him a little, he understood why. She wasn't ready, and he insisted on her comfort. He was willing to wait for her as long as it took.
“If I had known you had that many boxes, I would have brought in extra hands,” Dean huffed, placing yet another heavy box on the ground. Straightening up, he raised his arms above his head to stretch his back.
“Sorry, all my books,” Y/n shrugged and lowered her head, embarrassed.
With a quick wave of his hand, Dean signaled that it was nothing. “It only takes a little longer but it’s no problem,” he quickly said to reassure her, so she wouldn’t feel bad about having so much stuff. After all this time knowing her, he knew how important her books were to her.
Her 500 books which weighed bricks to transport…
“I'll go get another box,” she accepted Dean's answer and as she passed him on her way out, left a quick kiss on the cheek. It was Dean's turn to react, his face quickly turning red.
“Okay, in the meantime, I'm going to start…” Glancing at the mountain of cardboard, Dean sighed again. “Cleaning a little…”
Sam wasn't there. Although he proposed his help for moving her stuff in, Dean's ego was more powerful. As a boyfriend, he had to take care of his girlfriend himself. Without help. Showing her that he was there for her, and that she would always be his priority.
Dean had been in several relationships in the past. And he loved each woman with all of his soul. But each time, his work, his family or the apocalypse had forced him to leave. It had been a very difficult task each time, but he had done it.
Just the thought of leaving Y/n had the same effect as losing a limb. It was unthinkable.
Ah shit. He was in love.
Him, in love?
It was the first time.
… Wait a minute.
He was in love with her.
This realization hit him harder than he expected. Dean took a few steps back, his head spinning quickly. He was in love. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. Never in his entire life had he felt this kind of thing for someone, feelings so strong, so true. When they were together, he felt so good, like he had finally found the thing he was missing. The person he needed.
Dean took another step back, and inevitably, his legs encountered a box. He lost his balance and, trying not to cause a landslide, had to hold himself against the nearest thing… Another box.
This one was strangely and unfortunately lighter than the others and failed to stop him from doing damage. Luckily, Dean kept his balance and avoided the embarrassment of falling on his butt, but the box fell to the ground.
“Son of a bitch,” he grumbled as he hurried to pick it up. As he took it, he noticed that it was not closed properly. It was definitely not his plan to go through Y/n's personal belongings, but when he opened the box to close it better, he couldn't help but see what was inside.
And it wasn't his fault. The first item on top was a box that displayed the inscription of its contents, and his curiosity, well… took care of the rest.
“What the…” taking the item in question, Dean examined it. His hunter's eye detected every detail, inscriptions, the wear on the cardboard and even the place where the packaging had once been sealed before opening. The sticky paper seemed to have been removed so quickly, the color of the cardboard remained stuck on it. It was exactly as if its owner, eager to have the object, hadn’t been concerned by the breakage of its packaging.
SO. It was still possible that the contents were not what was written in black and white on the packaging. It was still a possibility. Dean understood, it was his duty to get to the bottom of it once and for all. Otherwise, the question would haunt him for the rest of his life.
Heart racing for no good reason, Dean placed his fingers where the paper was torn off and pulled the tab. Then, breathless, he opened the box and peered inside.
“Son of a bitch,” his mouth breathed along with the last of his oxygen. No... he couldn't believe it. As if he needed further proof that his eyes had already given him, Dean reached into the box and pulled out the object.
It was still in its bag, but an opening proved its frequent use. Both soft and very hard, it was of regular size and of a pretty pink shade. Dean didn't need to take it out of the bag to know that underneath was the little hole to get charged, the wire still in the box.
In his hand, Dean held the thing he never thought he would hold… Let alone find among his girlfriend's stuff. The sweet, pure, shy Y/n.
Scared that she would come back and see him like this, Dean quickly put the pink dildo vibrator back in its box. A thousand questions swirled through his mind and his heart still hadn't stopped pounding in his ribcage. In his eagerness and nervousness, Dean almost dropped the box, so he had to pull himself together to put it back exactly where he had found it.
And that was when he saw them.
There were plenty of them. A dozen even. Some had their original packaging, others had boxes without inscription. Curiosity rose in Dean who forgot the presence of his girlfriend and owner of these toys in the bunker. It was like suddenly he was alone in the world as he began to pull out everything he had in front of his eyes, his pupils dilating with each new discovery.
Small portable vibrator. One that looked like a butterfly, insertable and vibrant. A… dolphin? A flesh-colored dildo, including ball and base with suction. A magic staff. Purple, pink, black, the colors were added one after the other. And then suddenly...
Dean came across the largest box.
It was curiously and surprisingly big for what was inside. Dean couldn't help it. It was heavy, there was no doubt about the contents, but he had to see it with his eyes, hold it in his hands, and absorb reality.
It couldn't be that big... right?
And oh my god.
“Now that’s something you definitely shouldn’t try at home…”
Examining it from every angle, he still couldn't understand. The words “bad dragon” were forever imprinted in his brain along with the image of that purple and blue hued dildo. It was imposing, as tall as it was wide, and the different textures were strange but pleasant to the touch. And inevitably, his brain went in that perverse direction he imagined...
Her moans filled the room and the echo was carried throughout the whole bunker. Sounds of pleasure? No. Of frustration. She moaned as she tried as best she could to get the dildo into her entrance, which was still too tight for such a monster. But her determination only grew with her goal, and the idea alone of being able to have all those inches inside her was so exciting that she almost didn't need any lube.
“Oh fuck,” breathed through her lips as the head of the toy finally pierced the breach. Her head tilting back, she wiggled on the dildo to widen her entrance to accommodate the rest. Kneeling over the toy made it easier for her to maneuver her body and part her lips for guidance. And when finally the dildo was inside her, a long sigh of relief mixed with the pleasure of having succeeded hissed between her lips.
“I love the view…”
Dean hadn't missed a single thing. Standing in the doorway, he watched, admired, and nourished himself with the magnificent view before him. Kneeling on the bed facing him, she knew he was there. Even though her eyes were closed, she felt his presence, heard his heavy breathing. And then there was the rustling of his clothes every time he adjusted his position or reached for his swollen crotch.
It was one of the hottest things she had ever experienced. The desire was so strong it was palpable. The smell of sex filled the room. A moan passed her lips as she opened her eyes to look at him, her breath leaving her lungs, making the air almost unbreathable because it was so saturated.
"Oh. No."
The sound of a heavy object hitting the ground brought him back to consciousness. Then it took him several seconds to realize the voice that had spoken just before the impact, what it had said and who it belonged to. Turning towards the door, Dean's eyes were wide open, the green almost disappearing from his irises because his pupils were so dilated.
Her face was not in any better condition. As her eyes, wide with fear and shame, moved between what he was holding and the box behind him and finally settling on him, Dean could see the embarrassment quickly filling her being.
“What is this?”
Still shocked by his discovery and what it implied, these words were the first and only ones that had managed to escape his lips. Obviously, he knew what it was, and what it was for. However, he needed to hear it from her mouth. To confirm what his eyes had already understood.
His question only made her more uncomfortable.
“You weren’t supposed to see that,” she muttered under her breath, lowering her head and crossing the distance between them to grab the dildo and remove it from the hunter’s hands. All this to hide the evidence that had already been consumed, unfortunately. “Please, forget about it,” she pleaded, still refusing to meet his gaze. Her hand resting next to Dean's on the dildo, she tried to take it back, but was surprised to see that he didn't want to let it go. “Dean?”
“It’s impossible,” his voice was low, almost a breath lost in the tension of the air. “Unfortunately… I’m turned on by that. And here I thought you were all pure and shy…” Taking a pause in his words only made the state Y/n was in worse. Next to Dean, she felt his breath against her cheek, and the heat of his body. It was heavy, his chest moving in time with his harsh breathing. As if he had to do everything to hold back. “I waited for you to be ready, and I'll still wait but… Y/n…” As she still refused to raise her head and meet his gaze, Dean took his other hand, the one that wasn't holding the dildo, to gently lift Y/n’s chin. “Thinking about you touching yourself with that… oh fuck, it’s hot, sweetheart.”
“Yeah?” A shy smile appeared on her lips, her eyes watering at how she was embarrassed but still... Very excited by this idea.
“Oh yeah,” Dean swallowed, his green eyes darting from Y/n's lips to her eyes, then back to her lips. Like two magnets held too far apart, but at the same time too close, it was inevitable.
Dean pressed his mouth to Y/n’s, kissing her forcefully. The dildo was quickly put aside, both needing their hands to touch the other. Dean placed his on Y/n's waist, and her around his neck. Her nails scratched the soft part of his neck, leaving red marks he would never see. It was intense, they almost devoured each other with an insatiable appetite. Opening her lips, Y/n stuck her tongue out barely, just enough to give access to Dean who was quick to push his tongue into her mouth. The kiss became languorous, messy, even, and Y/n backed into a box and almost fell. Dean broke the kiss to ask if she was okay, but she silenced him by replacing her lips on his to continue the kiss.
Their mouths didn't leave each other as clothes flew around the room, some getting stuck on boxes while others fell to the floor. Eventually, they managed to maneuver through the mountains of boxes to get to the bed. Y/n plopped down on the mattress and laughed against Dean’s mouth which only took a second to find its way back to hers. Now both were shirtless and their hands explored each other without stopping.
Finally, Y/n broke the kiss to speak.
“I want you to watch me.”
“What?” Dean was panting, his erection so painful in his pants he was afraid it would explode at the slightest touch. Like a hungry lion demanding its prey, he tried to grab Y/n's lips but she refused him access by placing her fingers between them.
“I want you to watch me use the toy…” If she was an angel a few moments ago, the Y/n he had, lying under him on the bed, half naked, was a little devil hidden under the appearance of a Saint.
Just the thought of seeing her in real life masturbating with the monster he had found made Dean gulp and push himself up so he was on his knees. His face was so red, he had trouble understanding how there could still be blood in his length.
“Are you sure? I mean, I… I can’t say no to that, fuck, but… I don’t want you to feel forced or…”
“Dean,” she interrupted, a smile tugging at her lips. “I really want to. And I know you want it too.” Y/n took a deep, slightly shaky breath before continuing. “So… Bring me the one you want me to use… And get comfortable.”
Dean swallowed and looked at his girlfriend's face. Since he had known her, they had never been this far in their intimacy. And he would never have imagined that she had this in her. Obviously he was surprised, but it was a very pleasant surprise. Like an excited child on Christmas morning, Dean rushed to the box of adult toys and once again admired all the choices presented to him. Each of them infused an image, each more erotic than the other, into his mind. For a moment, he hesitated to take the monster he had found shortly before, but decided that for now, this view was better in his mind. And he didn't want to embarrass Y/n even more than she was, what she was proposing was very intimate, very sexy, but also terribly hard to do. To open up like this, to show yourself like this...
Dean returned to his girlfriend, a box in hand. “This one,” he held out the box, knowing full well what it contained. Y/n took it, hesitated for a few seconds while staring at it in her hands. Just as Dean was about to repeat that she didn't have to, that they could continue to just makeout and that was okay, she opened the box and took out the toy.
It was a simple one. No vibration, just a flesh colored dildo with suction at the bottom. It wasn’t the biggest she owned, but it was still big, almost as big as Dean’s cock. So to see her use this, he could easily picture him in her…
Just the thought sent another wave of arousal down his pants.
“Do you need a moment, or lube or…” Dean was still standing up near the bed as she was on her knees on the mattress. For the first time, he was clueless and didn't know what to do. And yet, it was not his first time, nor the last, that he had more kinky moments with his partner. But Y/n was different, she wasn't just his sexual partner, but the woman he loved. And the prospect of getting even closer and more intimate was worth more than any sex he could have.
“I want you to watch the whole thing,” Y/n replied, lifting her ass off the mattress just enough to undo her pants and pull them down along with her panties with just one hand. In an almost expert manner, she finished undressing herself with one hand, her other never letting go of the toy. “You can sit down, you know,” she laughed when she saw Dean still standing where he was, stiff as a stick.
“Yeah, yeah, sorry,” he sat on the edge of the bed and turned his body towards her. It was like he was back at 15 with the most popular girl in school, ready for his first time. Nervousness filled his entire being, along with excitement, and if he wasn't so experienced years later, his erection would have disappeared or he would have come prematurely in his pants.
Dean silently thanked all the girls he had in the past that strengthened his stamina.
“How do you want me to use it?” 
Dean could see how nervous she was. It was the first time she was completely naked in front of him, and her body was shaking ever so slightly, shivers that covered her soft skin in goosebumps. But yet, through that nervousness, she was freaking sexy. Still kneeling, she was slowly stroking her intimacy with the toy, coating it with her wetness. And without asking, Dean knew she wouldn’t need any lube.
“Just… Like this, you can ride it…” The words got out of his mouth by automatism. Truth was, Dean was half there now, so excited and focused on her, a part of his mind was shut down. It was so hot, he couldn’t detach his eyes from her body, the way the toy rubbed through her lower lips, how her hips rocked back on it, and her face, so soft, so cute, so embarrassed… With eyes burning in a strong passion.
“Okay,” she whispered. Time seemed to slow down. Dean could feel his heart beating in his head and in his crotch, the intensity growing with each movement she made. Straightening up, she placed the dildo behind her, careful to align it with her entrance, and opened up her legs to let Dean continue watching. 
And he could see it all.
It was better than everything he could ever imagine.
The toy was big, but she was probably very wet and very used to it, because it didn’t take long for her to lower down on it. Inch by inch, the dildo disappeared into her entrance until it was almost completely gone. Her body was bent back, her chest glistening with sweat and the cutest moan left her lips.
“Fuck,” Dean groaned. It was too much, so he rushed to open his pants, just enough to free his aching cock. The simple touch sent thousands of electrical shocks of pleasure through his body, but still, his eyes were fixed on her. “You’re so hot, I don’t think I’ll last long,” he held the base of his cock stronger to avoid his climax.
“I don’t think I’ll last long either,” she whimpered. She had started moving already, slowly, up and down on the toy. Since she was on the bed, the succion was useless and she had to hold it with one hand. Dean could see how wet she was on the dildo, and imagined how warm it had to be inside.
Another groan whistled through his teeth.
“Hmmm,” she moaned, picking up speed. “It feels so good… Dean… Look at me…”
He didn’t notice, but his gaze was so focused on the toy and her pussy, he didn’t even look at her face. Blinking hard, he looked up, and when he saw her face, twisted in pleasure, he couldn’t help it.
His hand started moving on his cock at the same rhythm as her.
“Can’t wait to be inside of you,” Dean muttered through his rashing breath. “Must feel so warm in there, and you’re so wet, fuck, sweetheart, you’re killing me.”
As an answer, she moaned and closed her eyes for a second. But quickly, she set her gaze on him again, even if it had to be the most embarrassing thing she ever did. She wanted to watch him watch her, watch him stroke his cock, watch him cum with her. “Soon… I promise, soon, you’ll have me, you’ll fuck me as much as you want, whenever you want… I'm ah... All yours, Dean..."
"Y/n." Dean could only say that. Again and again, moaning her name as she continued moving on the toy. "Y/n..."
"Dean, I’m gonna cum, oh my god, I’m…”
It was stronger than her. Never before did she come with only a dildo in her, it always took her hands or a vibrator on her clit to reach the end. But right now, in front of her boyfriend masturbating with her, it was too much. It felt so good. 
In an explosion of pleasure, her orgasm ripped through her in a scream. She closed her eyes, her body shaking, her wetness flooding under her and on her bed. But she so didn’t care about this right now.
It took a few moments for her to regain her hearing back, and a few more moments to open her eyes. It was strong, and she suddenly felt so tired, like the world came crashing back on her. Feeling like she could sleep for a whole day without waking up.
Y/n landed her eyes on the man in front of her. Dean had his head bent back, eyes closed, mouth parted. Lower, his cock was still a bit hard, and his release was covering his hand.
“Oh,” she said sadly, realizing she didn’t see him cum. At least, they came together.
“Oh,” Dean repeated, finally opening his eyes to land them on her. “That was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen and done,” he admitted, a silly smile filling up his face. So he was too, drunk on pleasure.
“Yeah,” she admitted, feeling her face flush with embarrassment. Wow. They did it. They actually did it. Her joy, thought, left her face quickly as she realized something. “Fuck.”
“What is it?” Dean immediately went on protective boyfriend mode when he heard the change in her voice.
“I think I…” Y/n’s voice was small, so small and shy as she lifted herself from the spot she was in, removing carefully the dildo from her, and looked at the mess she made. “It never happened before, but now my bed… I don’t think I can use it anymore… Oh no…”
“Sweetheart,” Dean rushed to her side, quickly putting himself back in his pants even if he was messy with his release as well. “It’s alright. There’s plenty of other room in the bunker, with other beds.”
“But,” she stammered, her gaze looking down at her hands. “What if I want to… Use your bed, with you?” 
Y/n ended up looking up at him, their gaze meeting.
A soft kiss on her lips answered her question, and all of her insecurities washed away.
“My bed is yours, sweetheart. We can always use this room for your books, I’ll ask Sam to help building shelves and-”
Another kiss, this time, more powerful, interrupted his sentence. “God, I love you so much.”
Babum.
The words he never said back before.
Dean thought they would be hard to say. Impossible, even. But he surprised himself with how easy it actually was.
“I love you too, sweetheart.”
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Forever taglist: @nitnat6245 @eevvvaa​​ @wickedinspirations​@fictional-affairs @awkward-and-indecisive​​ @peachyaliien @katbratsupernaturalwhore
Supernatural Tag List: @peachyaliien @sexyvixen7 @stixnstripesworld @charred-angelwings @treat-winchesterswith-kindness​ @lyarr24 @fiftyshadesgrl @this-is-me19
Dean Winchester Tag List: @akshi8278​​ @kazsrm67​​​ @wtrpxrks @deanwanddamons @thoughts-and-funnies​​​ @charred-angelwings @jensendreamland​ @deanswaywardgirl​​​ @happyt0exist @waynes-multiverse​​​ @djs8891 @mimaria420 @this-is-me1​​​ @syrma-sensei
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carionto · 9 months
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Humans really like space wildlife
As Humanity integrates itself within the Galactic Coalition ever further, trade and travel between Sol and neighboring member systems is growing at exponential rates. In particular, their interest in the native wildlife of other planets is the most widely expanding sector for tourism and commerce.
Even though it is also the most heavily regulated and restricted one, Humans, who typically display a desire to subvert the normal procedures to expedite any process they can, for this they are surprisingly willing and eager to fill in all the necessary paperwork and spend hours upon days making sure they follow and adhere to all the requirements to import some of these creatures.
While such level of determination is not uncommon for new member species who discover a certain non-native creature or something that to the respective natives is commonplace but for them is the pinnacle of exotic, the variety of requests made by Humans is nearly as great as the entire list of known fauna species. And the reasons listed on the forms are even more diverse:
"That's a unicorn! I've always dreamed of having a unicorn and you're telling me there's a dozen subspecies?! Yes, please!!!"
"After reviewing their behavior, this bear-sized fluff-ball is the perfect cat I've always wanted, but couldn't because of allergies. I'll treat them with love and care, my life is incomplete without this fella."
"Tiny. Elephant-duck. Want."
"Our company was looking for a mascot, and these six-legged spindly beaver-crabs are perfect. Here's our mission statement and prepared accommodations for a flock."
"They all said I hallucinated the lizard sasquatch when I was on that acid trip, but now I'll show 'em. It's real. I knew it all along!"
"Aww, these baby puppies are so adorable (referring to the four meter, 800kg Fanged Widowmaker of Abyss Valley predator). My kids were looking through your alien picture books and instantly fell in love with these ones."
And so on. At first we had to reject quite a few, mainly because half of them were deadly beasts from Deathworlds that are almost impossible to capture in the first place. Then the Human officials informed us that, while they will try to stop it from happening, if we don't make importing and adopting even the most dangerous animals in the known Galaxy reasonably possible for them with Human help and expertise in the field, some Humans will set up illegal smuggling rings to "fill the market gap" as they said. Historically, they explained, that causes more problems and expenses than just handling it through official channels.
Reluctantly we were persuaded and have set up a new organization to quell this, apparently, unquenchable Human pack bonding condition. Even if said pet can kill them. We think, as horrible as it may be, that for some that is part of the appeal. Even the ones that breathe out literal poison.
"We'll wear a mask around them. This wendigo-like one is too cute to not get belly rubs."
Said the OFFICIAL Human Representative of a monstrosity that can only be described as the living incarnation of countless teeth, fangs, claws, vivid seizure inducing iridescent feathers, and a body that extends from a inconspicuous ambush pose to a fully 8 meter tall six limbed nightmare machine of Death!
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polaroid-petals · 5 months
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Something I really love about Sunny that I don't see mentioned a lot in discussions about his character is his guilt over ruining Basil's life and how it manifests in his vivid fantasy.
Basil appearing in black space and getting killed over and over, first by the environment, then by the others, and finally by Omori has gotten many interpretations. Less believable ones like Sunny secretly having hated Basil all along and more believable ones like Omori wanting to protect Sunny from the boy who knows the truth.
But what I like is how it could also show a part of Sunny he doesn't express often, and that is the guilt he feels for dragging Basil into the accident and making him an accomplice by being the one who caused there to be a situation that made Basil act so inhumanely. When Sunny finally leaves the house, he sees the effect that had on Basil for the first time: he has lost all of his friends, one of his closest friends now leads a band that bullies him, he lost his most prized possession, and that bright, sunny, sassy boy now barely dares speak, exhibits signs of suicidal ideation like giving up his hobbies and giving away his important possessions, and has lost all that personality that made him such a charming little kid when he was twelve. And through it all, Sunny wasn't there for him. Like being trapped wandering in black space, Basil had to face it alone.
Knowing that, black space can take on another layer: look at what I've done to you, taking your life away from you and turning your friends against you. I might as well have killed you myself. It's a reel of the outcome of Sunny's actions, put on display as another point of shame and regret in his life.
And I think that's pretty neat. In the good ending, I can see him struggle with facing this part of what he's done as it makes his reconciliation with Basil tougher, albeit that much more cathartic when they do reconcile.
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iaure · 1 year
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𝔦 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱 𝔪𝔶 𝔟𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔱𝔥𝔰 𝔬𝔫 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔫𝔢𝔠𝔨, 𝔴𝔥𝔦𝔩𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔰𝔩𝔢𝔢𝔭
𝖞𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖒𝖎𝖌𝖚𝖊𝖑 𝖔❜𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖆 𝖝 𝖋𝖊𝖒!𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗
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𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 1: 𝔩𝔬𝔯𝔡 ℑ 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔯𝔶; 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔦𝔰 𝔳𝔦𝔬𝔩𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 2: 𝔴𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔦𝔫 𝔪𝔶 𝔞𝔯𝔪𝔰, 𝔶𝔬𝔲'𝔯𝔢 𝔪𝔦𝔫𝔢 𝔱𝔬 𝔨𝔢𝔢𝔭 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 4: 𝔰𝔞𝔡𝔫𝔢𝔰𝔰 𝔰𝔴𝔢𝔢𝔱 𝔢𝔫𝔬𝔲𝔤𝔥 𝔱𝔬 𝔰𝔴𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔬𝔴
CW: delusion, attempted kissing, chase sequence, snitchery, thoughts of reader being a mother, vivid fears of dying, reader is temporarily locked away, reader gets hurt, SpanishDict translated Spanish.
This part switches between Miguel's POV and the Reader's. ♱ stands for the translation being at the bottom of the post. please let me know immediately if there are any errors!
Severe spoilers for Spider-Man: Across The Spider-Verse.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ we making it out of nueva york with this one !!!! maybe. there's a poll at the end to determine fundamental plot! please vote after you read and share your thoughts!! i had the she's homeless x spider-man india mashup on loop and reached a higher place of ascension.
wc: 3.8k
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𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟-𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.
Miles Morales had escaped, run amok to another world. Jess and Ben were trying to hunt him down, but with no back history on the Go Home Machine, they were stuck playing the waiting game. Margo was working on it, but Miguel had a hunch that her heart wasn't in on it. Traitors, everywhere. And the most painful traitor of all refused to meet his eye. Miguel sat on a chair in front the containment bubble, elbows on his knees with his hands laced together. Y/N had been sealed away, red filament twisting around her like a hamster ball, or a puffed up cocoon. The grapefruit glow bounced off her skin, casting an ominous light over the blooming bruises around her midsection, where her suit had torn from the glass, where Miguel had hurt her. He hated self-confliction. Y/N had betrayed him, the Spider-Society, the multiverse-willingly aided Miles in his escape. She probably was the reason he got away. Y/N had made the conscious choice to forsake the canon. She had known Miles for all of an hour, at most. Y/N threw away everything to help a teenager that (to Miguel, at least) had no idea the damage he was causing. She completely the deserved the situation she was in. It didn't matter what the reasoning was. And now she sat, curled up in a fetal position on the floor, trapped inside a containment bubble, her back to him. Y/N didn't meet his eye, but he knew it wasn't an act of shame or cowardice. It was the idea that he wasn't worthy of it; the idea that he didn't deserve to see her eyes. That she wouldn't even grace him with the idea that she was looking at him. She was being punished like a toddler with time out. Y/N had made a mistake.
But Miguel loved her.
He couldn't dance around the word anymore. There was a monster clutching his beating heart, and it haunted his immortal soul. It was love, as twisted and convoluted as it was. Love for a woman that had her back to him, pointedly refusing to speak. Miguel had seen her anger before. Being on the receiving end felt like a nightmare. Just silence, as thought the two of them were preschoolers and the silent treatment was the most lethal weapon in the schoolyard. He expected her vitriol to be loud, the kind that breeds screaming matches-not this.
"Y/N." Miguel was met with (shocker!) more silence. "Where did Miles go? This is important." Silence. "Why would you do this. You've potentially damned the multiverse." Y/N shuffled a bit, if only to wiggly further away. "You've helped disrupt the canon." Miguel sighs. "You're an adult. You should know better. Miles was a stupid kid-" "That you body-slammed into a train." Y/N finally spoke, biting like a viper and tilting her head a bit to look at Miguel out of the corner of her eye. "A 15-year-old that you saw fit to chase on all fours. His reaction was reasonable." Miguel's conflict swelled. Y/N was talking in that dulcet angel tone, so succulent despite her anger. But her insistence was irritating. She absolutely should've understood, better than any of the teenagers, her little acolytes. Miles was new. It was true that his reaction was...understandable, to a degree. Hobie always broke the rules anyway. Gwen was going through a rough time, and Pav was there to have a good time. But Y/N's brother died because of an anomaly. She of all people should know the threat they pose.
"We tried explaining it to him. It was his choice that he didn't listen. You, on the other hand, you knew the consequences." "I'd rather be a proper hero and fight for what's right, to help those that need help. That's a concept that's hard for you to understand, right?" "Oh, so trying to protect the multiverse is wrong. Okay, okay. Esto es ridículo.♱" Miguel rose from the chair, muttering under his breath and turning with his hands on his hips. His head was reeling. He knew Y/N was stubborn, but this was absurd. "I'm holding every Spider, every world, together!" "Says the guy who didn't even get bit!" Y/N counters, quick as lightning. "If your canon events are so true, then how is Nueva York standing? You answer me that!" "Canon events can differ-" "By so much that there's not even a spider? Get real, Miguel! The kid isn't doing the-the-the-!" Y/N tripped over her words, rising from her curl on the ground and talking with her hands, trying to get her thoughts in one row. "The devastation that you think he is! Canon isn't infallible!" Miguel whipped around, realising he'd come face to face with Y/N. She was panting like a dog, a scowl buried under a grimace buried under a glare. Her eyes were steely, finally meeting Miguel's eyes like rocks crashing with the sea. It was a clash of wills.
And Miguel hated how much he loved it.
What a woman, honestly. If she was this passionate about protecting a teenager she'd just met, what would she be like with her own kids? Miguel was sure that Y/N would be wonderful, always coming to the kid's defense, without question. That venomous tongue would be soft-spoken to a child, one that would have Y/N's eyes and Miguel's hair. Maybe a little girl, a Gabriella that would truly be Miguel's own. No switching places with the dead. No feigning love for a woman he didn't know. No technicolour nightmares. His own little girl, from his own wife. And god! Y/N as a wife! She'd be so sweet, waking Miguel up in the mornings with light kisses, whispering sweet nothings to him, letting his hands water as his slips out of groggy dreams. The rising sun on her skin would light her up like a holy statue, and the moment Miguel was conscious he'd be happy (honoured) to worship. From the second he woke up, to the second he fell asleep, he'd be worshipping, down to his dreams being dictated by Y/N. Holidays, weekends, family trips, saving the multiverse together...it would be-
"What, you going brain dead? Are you even listening?"
Y/N's biting words dragged Miguel back to reality, as hateful as the idea of reality was. His daydreams were so much kinder than this. She was still upset, still trapped behind that red barrier, and they were still enemies. But after the vision of what they could have, it was like a tease to just keep playing cat and mouse. It would be cruel and unusual punishment to torture himself like that. It'd take convincing. A lot of it. But Y/N wasn't unreasonable. She was noble at heart and maybe a bit naïve. But she was a Spider at the end of the day, always looking for the best solution to terrible problems. And that's where it's important. That's okay. Relationships were about compromise, after all. "Y/N." Miguel spoke softly. He really couldn't hide his affections for much longer. It was spilling out of him like a cup, pouring through the cracks and spilling over the sides. And he saw how Y/N shifted. He could tell that she was figuring it out. She could see how he moved. And she slowly backed to the other side of the containment bubble, moving further away until her back was against the wall. Did it break his heart? A little bit, but this was going to take time. All things would.
"Y/N," He repeated. "We...really shouldn't fight. We're-we're special, you and I." Miguel got close to the containment bubble, watching Y/N.
He didn't realise it, but sometime in the last fifteen minutes, the bubble's purpose had changed. It started out as capturing a prisoner, a traitor, someone who was dangerous and could be a threat to society as a whole. But it changed to a shield, protecting a prey animal from a predator. It was Y/N's last safeguard from Miguel doing anything unwise. The dynamic shifted. Y/N could tell it-every hair was on end, every sense was on fire. But Miguel was oblivious. "I'm gonna shut this off," He tapped on the filament, and Y/N swallowed. "Promise me you won't go running off. We can have an adult conversation. We can talk." And maybe Y/N should've protested. She could've asked to keep it on, but who'd admit they were scared in a situation like this? So she stayed silent. She kept in her corner, and irritation reared it's ugly head again. Miguel was trying to be cordial. Why wouldn't she just promise? He was offering her freedom.
(Somewhat. Details didn't matter, not here, not now.)
It's not like he was going to hurt her. It's two measly words. Two words in exchange for a lifetime and some of love, affection, devotion. Was that really too hard of a deal?
"Promise." Miguel growled.
Instantly, Y/N put her hands up in mock surrender. "Promise! I promise." Miguel's heart bloomed. She could be so charming when she wanted to be. So disciplined and playful, a good wife, a good lover. Listening was the first step, and she was listening. Miguel could only grin. "Okay." He put his hands to the barrier as his heart raced. He was so close. A step or two more, and he would have the love of his life in his arms. And Y/N was staying still. There was no tension that he could see. She didn't look like she was about to run. She was just nervous. The red barrier folded out of itself, and quiet suddenly, it was just Miguel and Y/N in a room. When was the last time they'd done this? Miguel couldn't remember the last time it was just them. It was always either in fleeting moments or with other Spiders around. It was impossible to get Y/N alone, no matter how hard he tried. But here she was, just him and her and them and an empty room where no one was going to stop them. She didn't move, watching him like he were a predator in the savannah. Miguel didn't like to say that he was excited, per se. But there wasn't really another word for it.
His eyes scanned over Y/N's pretty face, every inch memorised in Miguel's mind. Her sharp eyes. Her cute nose. Her pretty lips. Her pretty lips. What would they taste like? Did she use lip gloss? What would that taste like? How would it feel to have her lips linger on his? These were dire questions, and Miguel was done waiting. He walked up to Y/N, slow and purposeful. He had to seem as non-threatening as possible to pull this off. And quick, because chances were Y/N was going to do something harsh, like slap him. But it was a small price to pay. After all, he had his whole life with Y/N ahead of him. He just needed to get it started.
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Y/N was by no means a stupid woman.
She grew up with the same precautions every other girl did. Don't talk to strangers, they don't have candy in their van, and know when men are about to jump your bones. And in this case, she could practically smell Miguel's thoughts, like the gears in his brain were making smoke from how hard they were churning. She trusted him as far as she could throw him, if she tried throwing him when she was 12 and before she got bitten. That is to say, she didn't trust Miguel at all. He was a stupid, stupid man, and she needed to bolt. So, that's exactly what she did. Promises, schromises. Y/N could say whatever it took for Miguel to let her go, but at the end of the day, she had a responsibility to herself. For all his talk about having an adult conversation, she knew what the look in his eyes was. And when he began reaching for her cheek, Y/N knew it was now or never. Miguel's body weight was enough that she could web him up and hurl him into the nearby wall. It was like watching a cannonball get launched a Mach speed, and his surprised yelp was far more satisfying than it should've been. But he'd done this to himself, and as Y/N booked it down the hallway, she knew she was on a divine clock. Either luck or skill was going to get her out alive, and luck was unreliable at best. She had her hands, her webs, and her brain. That was going to have to make do.
A vast majority of the Spider-People were out, either in their own worlds or helping hunt down Miles. Poor Miles. He just wanted to save his dad. Y/N did her best, did the most she could, but right now? Right now, she had to focus on getting out alive, preferably with her pride intact. And as she heard Miguel's thundering footsteps behind her, an anguished yell, she found it in herself to go impossibly faster. Maybe if she was an outside observer, it would've been funny-a woman booking it past someone standing, only to be followed by a massive, 6'9 blue and red bullet on all fours. Wow. Miguel really did like just running like a dog. Y/N dove down into the lobby of the Spider-Society, ducking and weaving under bridges and platforms. Miguel leapt like an animal, clawing his way onto a platform above and dropping down.
"Stop running!" He barked, getting up to two legs again and reaching out. Y/N could feel his claws miss by a hair, and she leapt off the edge, swinging around and swerving to a platform above, stumbling into the containment room. Rows and rows and rows of sunset orange, anomalies staring at her with wide-confused eyes. None of them were the ones she'd caught, and as she heard Miguel claw up the side of the wall, she knew running wouldn't work forever. She had to do what Miles did-hide, outlast, outplay. These kids were getting too damn smart. Y/N dove behind the anomalous Rhino, praying that it wouldn't elect to shuffle over. It was the biggest thing in the room, the most stationary-and now Y/N realised she was putting far too much stock in luck. If Miguel found her, she genuinely didn't know what he would do. Would he cage her again? Hurt her? Kill her? It all seemed to be a possibility, all at once.
Now, all she could was hope the anomalies didn't sell her out.
In all honesty, she wouldn't blame them. The Spiders didn't have the most ethical treatment of anomalies. She wasn't even sure if they got fed, or what. But maybe a shared hatred for one particular Spider-Man would get it across. Y/N shared a look with a Doc Ock, and he stared at her. She grit her teeth, praying that somehow, the silent prayer would get across. A twitch throbbed in her neck from sheer tension, before the Doc Ock gave a barely noticeable nod. He looked away. It's a cold day in hell when the villains understood Y/N better than the 'good guys' did. Miguel burst into the room, claws tearing up the metal floor. Y/N could see a handful of the anomalies jump, all eyes on him. She had her back to him, and part of her hated how she'd put herself in such a compromising position. Short of her spider-senses, she wouldn't have a clue if she needed to run, and right now, she was having a Spider-Woman check engine light with how much the sense was going off already. It was rendered useless, because thank you very much, she was aware she was in danger.
"Vamos. Prometo que seré gentil.♱" Miguel cooed, heavy steps reverberating throughout the room. Maybe he was muttering to himself, or he genuinely was trying to speak to Y/N, but she knew better than to just leap out and go 'I'm here! Come and get me!'. Spider-Man was funny, but he wasn't stupid. And the same went for his 7290 variant. The anomalies all went silent, and Y/N felt her mouth go dry. It'd been so long since she'd last felt this genuinely terrified. Last time, she was 14, sobbing in an alleyway as she watched her uncle die. This time, she was being hunted by an obsessed, genetically infused daddy longlegs. This was absolutely, totally, completely fine.
"Mi corazón es tuyo. ¿Qué más se puede pedir?♱" Miguel kept muttering to himself, low and quiet and enough that if Y/N didn't have superior hearing, she wouldn't have picked it up. "I need you, I need you, I need you...you need me."
Mm. Y/N wrinkled her nose at that. That just sounded stupid.
Y/N kept her breathing controlled, trying to tame the soreness in her lungs and the shuddering breaths. Bile pooled in her throat as she heard Miguel slowly walk past the rhino, a shake in her hands that she hated acknowledging. But Miguel was terrifying. He was the ultimate predator, trying to hunt Y/N down like prey. She was prey, for the first time in years. She figured that maybe, if they'd done a better job of convincing Miles, then it would make sense. But if this was what the boy was seeing, feeling, then no wonder. She would've jumped off the bullet highway, too. Abruptly, there was a sudden crash, and Y/N's head whipped around to see that Miguel had thrown one of the containment contraptions, hurling it to the wall opposite to her. She practically jumped out of her skin, the bile leaping to her tongue in a bitter, acidic taste. Miguel swore hard in Spanish, howling like an injured dog, damaging more equipment and clawing up anything that wasn't an anomaly. With every hit, every swipe, Y/N flinched, because holy shit that could be her. He could pop her head off with a single slightly hard hit, and it'd be over.
He stalked out of the room, leaping down to the Go Home Machine below. Y/N's sigh of relief felt like it was shared with the whole room, all the anomalies relaxing at once. It's like a thread had been pulled out of a fabric, letting it finally fall the way it was meant to. One anomaly, a fucked up Green Goblin, did a dramatic flop to the floor. Y/N shut her eyes, taking a deep breath. At this point, she'd just abandon ship-leap out the nearest window and web her way out of the city before Miguel could deactivate her watch. And even if he did, then she'd hide out. Nueva York was insane, a metal jungle. She could spend the rest of her life hiding out there, if she had to.
"Beep beep."
Y/N's eyes flew open, looking to her left. Her gut plummeted. Miguel's golden boy, his favourite, one of their best, stood next to her, exactly 4 centimetres high. LEGO Spider-Man, with his teeny little watch. Before, Y/N thought he was cute, like a dog or something. But as his watch flickered to life and the visage of Miguel appeared, she regretted every single instance of her almost stepping on him. "H-Hey, wait-!" She whispered, harsh. "Don't-!" "Miguel, I got eyes on Y/N!" LEGO Spider-Man moved in a way that only a LEGO minifigure could, his head rotating a little bit. The Miguel avatar slowly turned, locking eyes with Y/N, and her blood froze. "Thanks, Peter. You're one of our best for a reason." "Beep beep." LEGO Spider-Man shut off the watch, looking to Y/N. "Sorry. Nothing personal." There was silence for a second.
"Peter." Y/N said. "You fucking suck."
She picked up the LEGO and proceeded to chuck him as far as she possibly could, launching him into the lobby and watching him fall. Some of the anomalies groaned, and already Y/N could hear Miguel barreling his way back to the room. Why the hell could she not catch a break? She only had a handful of options, most of which weren't actually options she could do. There was turning herself in-a non-option. There was calling for help-another non-option. And then there was simply...jumping out the window. The same thing Miles did. Which...felt cliché. Would Miguel really fall for the same thing twice? Literally? Miguel ran into the room, sliding across the floor. There was a moment where he looked up to Y/N, eyes wide and wild. His grin was wide, panting hard with his fangs poking his bottom lip. A flush had bloomed on his face, his eyes blown out like he was on drugs. "There you are," He hissed.
Well. The window it was.
Y/N's sides still hurt from the last time she got tossed out a window. This time, she gave herself the courtesy of bracing herself with her arms, but the glass still hurt like hell. It cut into her arms as Miguel genuinely shrieked, running out after her. There was a moment where Y/N was just in a free-fall, taking a second to reflect on her situation. Did she wake up this morning expecting any of this? No. If she had, she would've texted her neighbour to keep an eye on her fish. But nooo. She just had to get herself mixed up in super-hero shenanigans. She crossed her arms, a petulant scowl on her face. Maybe she still could call to make sure her fish would be okay. Miguel hurtled out the window after her, a hand reaching out to catch the front of her suit. His claws were out, the extra inch and a half proving far more of a threat than Y/N liked. She spun down and webbed Miguel's foot, yanking him down and using him as velocity to shove herself up. He tried the same trick on her, but if there was one thing she had on the 'kilogram of steel vs kilogram of feathers' built Spider was that she was that much faster. She yanked her foot out of the way, webbing to the side of the Spider-Society and slamming into the glass of a floor she'd never even been on before. Miguel plummeted like a brick to the ground, webbing to a building that was that much lower. Y/N had a total of two minutes to decide what the hell she was going to do. So...what was she going to do?
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♱ - This is ridiculous. - Come on out. I promise I'll be gentle. - My heart is yours. What more could you ask for?
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╰・ 𝙜𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙘 ⸜❤︎⸝‍ 𝙢𝙞𝙜𝙪𝙚𝙡 𝙤'𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖 ⨯・ ⨯・@ishqani ⸜❤︎⸝‍ @pix-stuff ⸜❤︎⸝‍ @localdepressedvampire ⸜❤︎⸝‍ @cantchoosejust1 ⸜❤︎⸝‍ @tired-writer04 ⸜❤︎⸝‍ @neteyamsbulletwound
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welcomingdisaster · 2 months
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halls of mandos dashboard simulator... part 2
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evilminji · 8 months
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Actually? WOULD Earth be the ones to petition Oa?
They are interstellar Space Interpol. You don't usually call them on different parts of your OWN settlements or systems. You call them in when someone is breaking THE Laws. Not necessarily YOUR laws, though obviously by breaking THE laws they clearly ARE. But THE Big Laws(tm).
Like Geneva Convention for Space type laws.
You have discovered Planet or King X is committing WAR CRIMES. Call Oa. Tax fraud? That's an inter-personal planet side issue they can't help you with. Pointing Nukes at your nursery settlement and threatening to blow up the infants there unless you give them sex-slaves?
Knock-knock! Taste HARD Light Constructs!
But if so? Then how would the situation get so out of hand on Earth? With the G.I.W.? Simple. Tell me, Mr. President, what do you know of the current day to day life of villagers in rural Siberia?
That they exist? Could you even NAME their village, if I referenced specific individuals? Likely not. And no one would realistically expect you too.
There are countless planets out there! With Leaders busy with local industrial conferences and infrastructure bills. Farming regulations. Talks with that planet a few stars over. Very busy. What do THEY know of Earth? Why would they NEED too?
But! As we know, Ectoplasm is EVERYWHERE. Not just earth. And? Thin spots are not just an Earth-centric phenomenon. Other planets most CERTAINLY would have them too. And depending on the species? The culture? To quote the wise sage Bill Wurtz "you can make a religion out of this!"
After all, chosen few, returned from death... glowing and more powerful then before? Immortal? It's a pretty reasonable conclusion to come too. They are clearly Gods Touched. Some sacred task they must complete.
It would likely even shape the ghosts of the region themselves. After all, they TOO, would believe they were chosen for some Important Religious Task. Be it study or collecting rocks. To what end? Unknown. Who are they to question The Gods?
But! Oh happy day! The old tyrant is no more! A chosen Hero! They go to greet him! Honor him, as you do. Traditional gifts and ballads. Maybe some sacred rocks. A fancy hat. But? Oh? The Champion is wounded! Gasp! Still? But the fight with Pariah happened-
And then they are given Grave Warning(tm). Don't go to Earth. Heretics attacking people. KILLING souls! Trying to KILL the king of all the Infinite! He is somber because his living parents were hurt. Preventing the END OF ALL THINGS!!!??
WHAT!?
These "People In White" tried to EXPLODE the very FABRIC of all realities!? Several of them faint. Truely, these Fentons MUST be chosen by the Gods! Heros. Legends. Such bravery in the face of such HORRORS. Please, let them be brought to their Living counterparts! The hospitals are quite good!
And you know what? Fuck it. Danny will take that. Because his Mom n Dad got hurt. BAD.
They learned he was Phantom at probably the SINGLE worst time imaginable and still chose HIM. Chose THEM. The GIW were coming for him. Gonna hurt Jazz. And his parents told them, with fire and blood, it'd be a cold day in hell before they let them so much as TRY it.
They BLEW UP their own life's work. Went literally scorched earth. And now? They're not doing so good.
Because the Zone isn't made for the living. No food, no water, and no real human-safe medical supplies. They've run out. Danny will take what he can get. He'd even go to Vlad but... his Portal's gone too. And the Buzzards said he looked... spirally. Very... "suicide runs until everything BURNS".
So, yeah. No one's doing so great.
Alien planet it is.
They are greeted with fanfare and respect. The best medical teams on the PLANET. The King and his family is there, to welcome him. It's... it's beautiful. Hardly some perfect utopia, but the air is lite. Art everywhere. The stars vivid and so easy to see, at night.
The King kinda reminds him of Mr. Lancer to be honest. Balding and a bit round around the middle, stern but endlessly fair about it, wants people to do their best and succeed in life. Maybe that's why Danny finds himself opening up. Because... because here is a real, honest to God, KING king.
Somebody who was actually TRAINED to do all this King stuff.
Unlike Danny.
And Danny? He's scared. People expect him to Lead now. To know what he's doing. To somehow just... suddenly KNOW how to do all these things he's never even heard about. He only barely just died. Has BARELY been keeping everybody safe.
BARELY stopped Pariah.
He doesn't know what to do. But he pours his guts out. All the things that have bottled up. And King Not-Lancer listens. Somber and thoughtful. There is little, if anything he can TRUELY do to help. But... there ARE things he can do. Lessons on statescraft, while he's here, for one.
As for the other? Well, as King, he does have the local Lantern's Call Sign. Not to be used lightly, mind you. But what Danny describes? And from what the Sacred Ones have reported? THAT must be reported to Oa. He can show Danny how to do that.
(He does)
[The Lanterns of Earth get a VERY exciting call from Oa. Are every different shade of pissed. But? Whoops! Looks like they ACCIDENTALLY put the Watchtower into a complete Quarantine! Well, dang. Guess we're all stuck here for two weeks!
Reset it? *sound of smashing computer terminal* Yeah, don't think that's gonna work! :)
WHO WANTS TO PLAY 20 QUESTIONS?? We'll start! :) Who here has heard of an organization called, and I quote, The Ghost Investigation Ward? :) ]
@hdgnj @ailithnight @nerdpoe @the-witchhunter
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castieltrash1 · 1 year
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the devil has come home → charlie w.
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summary → during one of your regular movie nights, charlie asks to take your relationship a step forward
word count → 3.4k
warnings → smut; virgin!charlie x f!reader, oral, literally an entire fic dedicated to charlie eating pussy idk what u want me to say, dirty talk, switch!charlie, established relationship, almost fingering, premature ejaculation, cumming untouched, overstimulation, and hair pulling
a/n → everyone and their mother is in their rory culkin era rn so here u go, whores (affectionate) <3 no but fr i watched scream 4 the other day and knew what i had to do so pls enjoy xoxo
+ bonus points to whoever can figure out the title ;)
---
Charlie shifts beside you, gnawing at his bottom lip to restrain the interruption on the tip of his tongue.
“Did you know,” he suddenly begins, unable to stop himself. “That the school is actually called Ewen High in the book?” On the screen in front of you, a meek Carrie White stumbles through the library in a scene oddly similar to your boyfriend’s own reclusive attitude, and you drag your tired eyes to meet his; wide, with an excited glint reflecting off their pale blue hue. “They renamed it in the adaptation as a nod to Psycho.”
“Really?” you ask, surprised. “I don’t think you’ve told me that one yet.” The comment, while honest, makes Charlie flustered, and he unconsciously shifts closer to the opposite end of the couch. “But I like hearing about all the facts you know,” you reassure his silent insecurity, nuzzling closer. Pressing your lips to his shoulder and kissing the soft cotton sleeve of his shirt, you continue, teasing: “Even if I have heard most of them before.” He groans, but his chest rumbles beneath you with his own restrained amusement.
Peering up at Charlie, you prepare for what is bound to be a lengthy explanation. “So, what, it’s like Norman Bates?” you ask, but Charlie simply nods, mumbling a quiet affirmation under his breath. Already, his eyes are locked back on the television, colorful lights bouncing off his face. It must be his tenth time watching the classic horror film but he stares with the amazement of a first-time viewer, as if he wasn’t rambling about something called a split diopter shot just a few scenes ago.
You can’t help but smile at his quick shift in attention, ultimately content with settling down and letting him focus. As long as a scary movie is playing, you’ll always be the second most important thing in the room to Charlie; a title you hold with pride. Unlike others in his life, his passion doesn’t bother you. In fact, you find yourself admiring his ability to juggle a film studies degree, the leadership position of your college’s cinema club, and weekly series rewatches with the rest of his busy life. Your only complaint would be having to share the small couch in his apartment with Robbie, whose presence makes the already rare mid-movie makeout session completely non-existent. Thankfully, he’s visiting family this weekend, but the lack of a clingy roommate has seemingly had zero effect on Charlie’s inclination to make a move.
So, when your boyfriend awkwardly clears his throat, you quickly tune back in, caught off-guard by the scene unfolding. On-screen is a vivid reminder of the part of your relationship that, up until now, has been virtually unexplored. Despite being unphased during the naked locker room title card, Charlie now fidgets uncomfortably as one of the male characters, whose name you can’t remember, receives a blowjob in his car. The actual act is offscreen, but there’s enough crotch-leveled head bobbing in the camera’s view to surmise what’s happening below the cutoff.
When it comes to anyone else’s sex life, Charlie is as interested as you could expect any newly independent young guy to be. If a couple is getting handsy during a party or other gathering, he’s the one to speak up and tease them about getting a room. When one of your friends unknowingly makes an innuendo, it’s him who laughs, derailing the conversation with some form of that’s what she said joke. Even during the gratuitous nudity scenes popular in his favorite genre, your boyfriend usually pairs his reddened cheeks with a low whistle of appreciation.
Simply put, Charlie is not a prude.
That fact had been what stumped you as your relationship grew, regular milestones coasting by at average speeds. It took three instances of him not reaching under your bra during makeout sessions, happily groping at your chest through two layers of clothes, for you to realize that his personal experience ended abruptly atop second base. Even when it was physically obvious he was ready to move on, Charlie had never mentioned or hinted at continuing, so neither did you. Now, it’s almost as if the glaring depiction of a couple being intimate has finally reminded him how little you two have done.
Thankfully, a bout of bad editing eases the sudden tension. “How is she talking right now?” you snort, referencing the actress’ voiceover poorly edited into the scene. Charlie flinches at your interruption, but you barely notice, too busy jabbing your pointer finger directly at the screen. “She’s still got John Travolta’s dick in her mouth!”
“Billy,” Charlie tensely corrects.
Assuming his tone is just a result of your outburst, you roll your eyes. “Whatever. All I’m saying is you can barely remember how to breathe while giving head, let alone start… I don’t know… monologuing about the girl you hate.” You huff, shaking your head. “Sorry, I won’t interrupt again. Promise,” you apologize, feeling a wave of guilt wash over you when Charlie doesn’t immediately reply. You hadn’t meant to insult him or the movie, but maybe your attempt at a bad joke had fallen short, too personal and poorly timed to do anything more than hurt his feelings.
You start to pull back, intent on apologizing again but are surprised to see Charlie already staring at you. Thinking he’s waiting for your regretful spiel, you start to speak. “I’m s-”
“I want to try,” Charlie says at the same time. The rest of your words suffocate in your hitched breath, offering a subsequent silence that he quickly tries to fill. “Giving you head or, like, e-eating you out, I mean.” The admission makes him swallow heavily, wide eyes unblinking, and you sit there motionless in surprise. When you offer little more than a shaky exhale in response, Charlie squeaks out an excuse. “Not that we - not that you have to or anything, I just…” Regret spreads across his face and you quickly recover, grabbing his shaking hand with yours.
“Okay,” you agree, trying to steady your breathing as the image of Charlie between your thighs flashes through your head.  “Are you sure?” He nods so quickly that you almost blink and miss it.
“I’m definitely sure,” Charlie reassures, squeezing your fingers between his. “A-are you?”
“Definitely,” you echo, already feeling a steady warmth spread across your body. Despite your shared revelation, there’s a long moment where neither of you moves even an inch, hands clasped together as if carved from one marble stone. It isn’t until Charlie’s gaze flickers to your still-parted lips that you take the bait, reeled closer and closer until your mouth meets his.
“Fuck,” Charlie breathes, words becoming a muffled vibration when you press harder, tongue dragging to gather the taste of him. You reach for his hair now, dark waves weaving themselves between each of your fingers, and he lets out a little whimper when you tug, pulling him against you. His grip seems to have no end in sight, blindly reaching at and grasping whatever parts of you he can, fingers meeting your thighs, hips, chest, and neck. His thumbs prop up your chin, giving him the angle to lick needily inside your mouth, and you melt in his grasp, letting him take what he needs.
“Can I…” Charlie leaves a shallow bite mark on your bottom lip, soothing it with a gentle pass of his tongue. His fingers dip to the hem of your shirt now, tips brushing the inside seam. Faintly, you remember he’s never felt you here. He inches back just enough to speak clearly, voice filling the thin space between you. “Y-you can take it off and…” Already, he’s trying to pull the offending garment over your head, and you let go of his hair to help, tossing your shirt to the side the second you can.
Despite your arching into him, Charlie doesn’t immediately kiss you again, lashes fluttering as he stares shamelessly at your exposed skin. Without thinking, you reach back to undo your bra clasp with ease, straps sliding down your arms until they fall off completely. Still amazed by the previous sight, Charlie inhales sharply, pupils blown out with lust as you become barer in front of him.
“Woah…” he finally breathes, fingers tentatively brushing right below your chest. Slowly, his touch inches higher until he gives in, cupping your tits softly. The warmth between your thighs grows as he feels you in ways you’ve only imagined alone at night, eyes squeezed shut and fingers under your panties. “Holy shit.” Each exclamation falls under his breath as if he can’t contain them, commenting only to himself. “Fuck…” His grip tightens, thumbs dragging over your hardening nipples, and you sigh. “You’re so… soft.”  With a grin spreading across his face, Charlie looks to you for reassurance, squeezing harder when you nod and let out a pleased sound. “D-does it feel good?”
“Mhm.” You wonder if he can feel your heart pounding, skipping beats against his hands. “You can be rougher, though,” you tell him, reaching up to lay your palms on the back of his. “I’ll tell you if it hurts, I promise.” Growing more confident from your words, Charlie begins experimenting with different levels of pressure, nails digging into your skin one second and then pinching and tugging at your nipples the next. His breathing grows heavier with each passing moment, and you can’t help the low moans escaping your lips at the feeling of his desperation and the excitement radiating off of him.
And then, without needing any reassurance, Charlie replaces his hands with his mouth, sucking eagerly at every inch of your heaving chest. “S-shit,” you gasp, then let out a breathy laugh. You push some of his long hair back, tucked behind his ears, and smile at the sight of him. His eyes are closed, face red and warm, lips slick with spit as he runs his tongue against the contours of your body. “You’re so good,” you tell him, panting when he moans against you at the praise, the vibration tingling your skin. He wraps his mouth around your nipple before pulling it between his teeth, the sharp sting sending a shiver up your spine.
“I could do this forever,” Charlie lets go to admit, and then, remembering the task at hand, begins to descend lower, kissing and licking down your bare stomach. His hands steady your twitching hips, ticklish as his soft hair brushes your sensitive skin. You continue to whisper praises until he reaches the waistband of your pajama pants and halts. He swallows heavily, the movement of his bobbing throat almost audible above the drone of the television. You blindly reach for the remote and crank down the volume until it plays a low buzz of sound you can barely make out. God help him if your boyfriend gets distracted by a bucket of pig’s blood at a time like this.
“Do I just…” Charlie trails off, unable to vocalize his thoughts. Instead of answering verbally, you lift your hips, fingers meeting his. You drag the elastic past your thighs, letting Charlie pull the rest of the fabric off once it reaches your knees. He stares intently at every inch of your exposed legs, amazed by the sight, as he mindlessly tugs your feet free. It’s only when you start to move, making yourself comfortable against the arm of the couch, that Charlie finally shifts, offering you more space. He moves closer the second he’s able to occupy the emptiness between your legs.
It’s not the most ideal position but if you stop him now, Charlie might lose his boost of confidence in the few seconds it takes to walk down the hall to his room. With one knee pressed against the back of the couch, your opposite leg balancing precariously on the edge of one of the cushions, you spread out as much as you can, offering yourself to Charlie entirely. Even with your whole body on display, his eyes stay locked on one spot: the center of your underwear, where a wet spot is surely visible. You love knowing the only other time he has this look is when one of his favorite films is on.
“Is this good?” you ask, breaking him from his stupor. He blinks, confused. “The position,” you clarify, smiling at the blush that rapidly coats his cheeks.
“Y-yeah, it’s…” Charlie clears his throat, leaning in slowly. “It’s perfect. You are, I mean. You’re perfect,” he whispers, gaze darting from your face to your panties before returning. “I can see it… Does it - do you feel good?” Even with the physical proof, he seems unsure, the tone of his question bordering on disbelief. Before you can find your words, he moves in, shaky fingers meeting the inside of your thighs. “What can I do?” he asks, skin growing redder with desperation. “I-I wanna turn you on more and-”
“Charlie,” you interrupt, propping yourself up on your elbow. “You’re doing so good.” Your amazement thankfully doesn’t embarrass him, and soon enough you feel his warm exhale right where you’ve imagined him so many times before. “I-I’ll probably cum pretty fast,” you tell him, unable to make the desperate confession sound like a tease. “If you want, you can tease me through- fuck,” you gasp, feeling Charlie’s nose bump against your clothed clit, his tongue darting out to tentatively lick at the damp fabric covering you. You whimper something that vaguely sounds like his name when he presses harder, now dragging his tongue over the entirety of your core.
“Charlie,” you repeat breathlessly, grabbing at the hair that frames his face. “T-take them off, please,” you suddenly find yourself begging, hips arching for more. When lithe fingers brush against you, you almost whine at what is surely an attempt at teasing, but then Charlie is pushing your panties to the side and tentatively sucking at your now exposed cunt. Overwhelmed by the change in sensations, you buck into the feeling, immediately rewarded by the slow drag of Charlie’s tongue circling your clit before lowering to ease inside you. The technique in his actions is not lost on you and you heave in a breath, trying to speak.
“Y-you’ve really n-never?” you squeak out, thighs squeezing around his cheeks when he attempts to shake his head. When he pulls back, you shiver at the feeling of your panties sliding back into place, fabric sticking to your wet skin. Charlie looks up at you shyly, instinctively licking his lips clean of your arousal.
“I’ve… I’ve imagined this a lot,” he whispers, tone rising as he grows more confident. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this.”  His cheeks are flushed and his body shakes as he clings to you for support in every form. “I’m just gonna take off your panties and- and I want you to cum, okay? Don’t hold it back or anything, please. I-if you need to hold me in place or move me, just do it. I’ll…” Stunned by his proclamation, you wait in awe for him to finish. “I’ll be good for you, I swear,” he finally promises.
True to his word, Charlie immediately resumes the task at hand, finally tugging your panties completely off and shoving them to the side. Despite the vulnerability of your position, laid bare for him, you can’t stop yourself from bucking your hips when he leans back in. Charlie drags a soothing palm down the inside of your thigh before his mouth is on you again, now slower and more precise. His gaze is focused, flickering between your expression and body, taking in every shift of your features and shiver that runs across you.
He starts by tasting the entirety of you, tongue flattened and firm as it glides against your cunt. He repeats the motion a few times, letting you grind onto him until you both build a steady rhythm. It’s not enough to make you cum, but it isn’t meant to be; a consistent sensation that keeps you wanting more, without unbearably teasing you. That comes when Charlie begins to flick his tongue against your clit, so quickly and effortlessly that it takes your breath away. A litany of sounds escapes you as he dedicates all of his attention to your most sensitive spot, torturing it endlessly. His own moans only add to the sensation, a low vibration that seems to trail up the rest of your body, filling your head with a rhythmic buzz.
“Fuck,” you gasp, vision blurring and thighs trembling as Charlie replaces his tongue with his thumb, calloused skin circling your clit in a steady motion. With his mouth free, and between quick inhales, he starts to speak again.
“You taste so good,” he says, the vulgarity of his words no longer seeming to phase him. He rubs harder, faster, and his breathing hastens. “I-I want you to cum on my tongue, please?” His question sounds more like a plea, especially with the way he seems to pant around each word. “I’m gonna keep licking h-here, okay?” he asks, thumb dragging lower until the tip sinks into you with ease. Both of you still, the motion propelling the room into complete silence. Charlie lets a bit more of his thumb push into you before he pulls back completely, shakily exhaling. “It… You’re so warm,” he remarks, staring intently at where the arousal slowly drips from you. Like a moth to a flame, his mouth returns, messily licking clean your wetness.
You cry out his name, tugging on his hair so harshly you know it must hurt, but he doesn’t relent. Your hips buck and you grind your clit against his firm thumb, his tongue pressing inside you just as the thick digit had moments prior. Your mantra is only quietened by the sound of Charlie’s, a muffled please, please, please mouthed against your core that has you spiraling, desperation mirroring his. A quick glance shows you that while his head and hands are focused, the rest of his body is uncontrolled as he ruts against the sofa, so turned on he can’t help but chase release.
The sharp edge of your own impending orgasm hits you so hard it seems to isolate the rest of your senses, body and mind falling into an endless abyss with only Charlie’s touch anchoring you to the present. His incessant effort to satisfy himself with your pleasure intensifies everything until you find yourself succumbing to his ultimate desire. A broken admission falls from your lips as you cum on his tongue, neverending high propelled as his licking and rubbing only grow in speed and desperation. Even after you’ve stopped grinding against him, Charlie tastes you like it’s his last chance, his hips bucking wildly into the cushion below. He eventually slows, but his tongue doesn’t stop, and you’re too overwhelmed to realize what’s happened.
It takes you whimpering from overstimulation and pulling Charlie back by his hair to make him stop, his mouth chasing you even after you’ve pressed your trembling thighs together, knees digging into his heaving chest. After a few seconds, he seems to blink back some clarity, swallowing heavily and shifting back awkwardly, cheeks flushed bright red. “Charlie?” you breathe, shakily pushing yourself into a sitting position. “Are you - oh.” Despite his quick maneuvering, the new angle allows you to see the slowly spreading wet spot at the front of his jeans.
“I-I’m so sorry,” Charlie squeaks out, trying to yank himself from the couch. “Let me just - fuck, uh - go to the bathroom or something and…” When he tries to cover his crotch with his hands, you bat them away, immediately reaching for the zipper and button on his pants. “W-what are you doing?” he asks but doesn’t stop you, even when you ease his sensitive and spent cock out from his stained underwear. His expression is pure shame as he quickly hardens in your grasp, hips bucking to escape the overstimulation of your fingers wrapped around him.
“Let me return the favor,” you tell him, tilting your head softly in silent questioning. He must only think of the wetness of your mouth on him since his blush deepens, cock twitching against your slick palm. You stroke him slowly and softly until he stutters out a yes, which you reply to with a widening grin, unknowing that he’s imagined this moment more than you could ever guess.
You lean down with a teasing imitation of his previous word and Charlie suddenly feels all of his wet dreams come true.
“I want you to cum on my tongue, okay?”
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the-one-that-weeps · 3 months
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The day people realise that Niigo symbolises life and rebirth and Wxs symbolises death and farewells is the day I can die in peace. No I will not elaborate further.
...
Actually yes, I will elaborate further. Much further.
If you take a closer look, all of the units represent rebirth, even if their portrait of it varies: Leoneed broke apart but came back together because whatever sets them apart isn't as crucial as what brings the together, More more jump almost gave up on their dreams but came back and came back stronger with newfound passion and Vivid Bad Squad are literally the ashes left behind by the dying phoenix that was Rad Weekend. They're bringing new fire to good old Vivid Street. If that's not life and rebirth I don't know what is.
And Niigo... Gosh. Niigo is about love. Niigo is about care, about healing, about despair and rage and joy but most of all it's all about love. Mizuki and their journey towards self-love and trust, Ena's fight and frustration to recover her love for art, Mafuyu's path through self-discovery, freedom and the cage of conditional love that keeps her locked away from it, and it all spins around a lone composer who carries around the rags of past love and comfort just as closely as her neverending guilt.
Just... Look at what they were during the main story and look at them now. They've grown so much stronger and so much healthier and it's all thanks to love.
It's also important to point out that none of these alliances have a reason to end. Niigo will keep composing for a brighter future even after 25:00 disappears from the clock, Vivid Bad Squad are on their way to not only surpass the ultimate legend but also expand outside of that (and potentially take over the world), More More Jump are doing better than ever even after they switched to the credit based course and Leoneed has a whole promise about never disbanding again!
It's devastating to know that Wonderlands X Showtime... Don't have that.
The disbandment arc has been teased for years and it will continue to be part of their story whether we like it or not. They have different objectives and different paths to cross. In other units characters fight to hold onto one another time and time again because of their love, but wxs love each other enough as to let each other go in order to secure a better end for everyone.
Wxs' themes and happiness and dreams, and obviously neither of those can last forever, but you can hold them close and relish in them while they're here. Isn't that what life is all about?
The thing is, feelings and people are ever changing, perhaps that’s what makes them so beautiful. And never and forever are a long time. But they don't exist. Not for you, not for me, not even for the sun and the stars. One day the music will stop and we'll know it's time for the curtain call to fall one last time. And then we'll begin again
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comicaurora · 5 months
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Hi! I finally got the chance to read Aurora a bit ago. It's a wonderful story--all I was expecting and better! I was particularly amazed and delighted by the artwork and visual mechanics used to tell the story, so I wrote a post to yell about how cool it is and break some of it down. (No criticism, just praise.) I'm mostly a hobbyist, so I'm hoping I've done it justice.
That said: zero pressure to read it or respond to this ask. Normally I wouldn't send it since I tagged, but I know Tumblr's notifs are a mess and things get lost very easily. I've been in both the "one (1) word of praise will feed me for a year" and the "oh gods don't talk about my writing/art because anything that seems Off will break my brain" modes before, and I absolutely don't want to push or make you uncomfortable!
If you are comfortable, however, I wanted to ask about your use of what I'm assuming are Screen and blending modes in sound effect words. (I'm only guessing that's the technique, though, so I could be totally wrong about how it's done! I'm mostly experienced in image manipulation in Photoshop.) Making them semi-transparent over the actions is genius :) What inspired you to do that, and are there specific techniques you use to make it work?
Same questions go for using specific colors to distinguish different characters' words and actions. I really noticed it in the cave sequence with Falst and Dainix, since their colors are so vivid in the dark (ex. Falst's little swats and Dainix's swooping kick at 1.20.9). It lends excellent clarity to busy scenes.
Thanks! Have a lovely day, enjoy your break, and happy holidays <3
You're correct about the technique! "Screen" is the blend mode I use most often for sound effects. I stumbled on it mostly through trial and error - I love how sound effects add depth to a comic panel, but it's very easy for them to obscure the art in a way I find counterproductive, so "Screen" lets me put the sound effect directly over the origin of the sound while still letting it be visible through the word. Early chapters didn't have it as much-
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Most of the sound effects in early chapters are just solid colors with reduced opacity if I'm feeling fancy. But I started figuring it out around chapter 8 and 9, because Falst is kind of a sound-effect-heavy guy, especially in his fight scenes.
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In order to make sure they don't impede the visibility of the action, I'll often soft-erase the top or bottom half of the SFX to reduce its opacity while still leaving it readable.
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I'll usually double that up with an outline on the SFX so it's still readable. This is an especially important consideration if the SFX goes over an area of the background that's very bright or glowing.
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Color-coding the speed lines and SFX to the character or force causing them isn't a hard and fast rule, but I like using it (in part because it's a habit from the OSP illustrations, where every character has a single pop of color in their lineart) mostly because it sort of codes every sound to make it clear where it's emanating from, or the general feeling of the sound. Since I normally do character-colors for SFX, something like this stands out more jarringly-
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Which it's supposed to, but a big lightning strike doesn't register as anything too worrying because it's just Tess up to her usual shenanigans.
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It's also very useful for magic effects, because each form of magic has its own associated palette.
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And when I had a very complicated fight scene in a dark environment, I used the texture pattern I'd already made for the monster to color its SFX, so when I Screened them onto the panels they didn't obscure too much while still communicating "this is something else."
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Changing the weight, lined-vs-not-lined, and opacity of the SFX words also helps to communicate that not every sound has the same feeling. A strong motion is solid and aggressive, but a crackling, unstable sound is more ephemeral and staticky.
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It's definitely been a process of learning as I go - looking back at the earlier chapters I can actually see when I first tried various tricks I now use regularly, like doubling and distorting an SFX to produce the effect of a camera-shaking impact. I haven't really seen any other comics that do it like I do, probably because most other comics follow a more traditional production pipeline where text bubbles and sound effects get locked into the composition early, before the inking stage, because traditional physical comics don't have digital-art layers to play with. Adding sound effects to a page is almost the last thing I do before exporting them, and that only works because digital art and layers allow for a ton of flexibility.
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thefandomdirtymind · 8 months
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Casual
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18 +
OPLA - Vinsmoke Sanji
Part 2
Sanji series : SFW Shiny Offering NSFW The Small Favor - SFW The Mermaid Dream - SFW The Magic of a Kiss
A/N IMPORTANT: I didn't know exactly why but I wanted to write that fun and casual conversation between Sanji and reader remembering their sexy time. But I had to put a little bit of difficulties in it and I hope you will like it. I think to do a second part but I'm not sure yet...
Warning : Mention of a lot of sexual stuff : Oral Man ! and Female ! giving receiving, small bondage, penetration, bruises.
* English is not my first language, I tried really hard to correct myself but, I hope you will excuse me if some mistakes are still there.  
---
The golden light of the sunrise was reflecting in the calm water when Sanji put his feet in the restaurant. Redressing his freshly knotted tie, entering the kitchen like if he wasn’t fifteen minutes late, he suddenly stops on his track. At the instant he saw you, he knew he was screwed. 
Not that you looked at him directly, way too busy with the prep for the approaching brunch, neither that you seem mad ,even if your chopped carrots should've been smaller. In fact, he clearly recalled that when he had left your bed this morning, kissing your lips one last time, your naked form reaching for his warmth. You looked quite satisfied and relaxed. 
It was not either a sudden burst of love who struck him, even if he always had affection for you, that night was from the start nothing but casual sex. 
No, the reason he knew he was himself in deep shit wasn’t either because as he watched you, he could remember every inch of your skin he had feverishly kissed and bite. The problem is if Zeff discovers it. After all, even being his sous chef and prodigy couldn’t help him with the fact that he had fucked all night long his mentor daughter. 
" Don’t stay there like if the kitchen was on fire, little eggplant, put on your uniform and start helping " The man himself ordered, busy in his own corner.
Turning your gaze of your carrot to observe Sanji, you smiled. 
" Good morning Sanji " You said, your tone letting know nothing of your previous meeting in the dark. 
" Good Morning Y/N " He replied, as he put on his white jacket, a thin smile you didn’t quite know, of his lips.
" Did you sleep well, you seem a little bit…tired" You sweetly replied, returning to your carrots. 
" Yeah I had a short night…" He confessed, watching you, a warning in his eyes. 
" If you would stick to the menu, you wouldn’t be up all night thinking about some recipe I won’t allow in the restaurant and sleep like everybody else. " Zeff declared, lifting the heavy potato sack. 
" If we didn’t serve the same stuff everyday that restaurant would be less shitty " The blond retorted, starting to peel the vegetables, his anxiety slowly melting as he returned to his usual fight with the old man.  
— 
It seemed an eternity before you could remove your cooking clothes. Due to the celebration yesterday, many cooks were sick, making your father and the other employers double their shift. Like if you needed it, with the little sleep Sanji and you had. But, as you return to the empty kitchen, already dreaming of the softness of your bed, you notice the blond chef still busy chopping mushrooms.
" What are you doing ? " You couldn’t help yourself to ask, curious as to why he hadn’t headed to his bed for a well deserved night of sleep. " You should go to bed I’m pretty sure those mushroom will still be there tomorrow "
" Well, I kind of have a hard time trying to get out of my head the idea of your dad discovering what I have done to you" He replied unamused, stress and guilt clearly eating him from the inside. " You see I have a sentimental attache to most of my limbs and other parts" 
" Sanji, I would never tell him, we have been super discret and if I recall it clearly you aren’t alone in this. I had pretty vivid memories of sucking your dick until you begged me in french to stop " You teased, sitting on the counter. 
" Like if you hadn't melted at the minute I put my mouth on you" He mocked, this time his tone almost like his usual confident self. As he abandoned his task to face you. " And I really had to remind you that cute gasp you did when I push my finger on that sweet spot you never reach yourself " 
" It’s true it was a great discover, that you proudly celebrate " You conceded showing the hickeys on your clavicle "Maybe you didn’t gasped, but, I heard you a lot moaning and groaning, particularly when I was on top" 
" I have no excuse, your vision was magnificent and the feeling was incredible ." He replied " But I still regret the death of my tie " 
" It was for a great cause, that orgasm was one of the best I had. It’s a good thing your hand had muffled my scream because I was pretty sure I would have awake all the ship" You laugh, gladly remembering being hang by the hand to the wooden bedpost as Sanji was supported your leg around his hips thrusting in you as his life depended of it. Lucky for both of you, your bedroom was at the far end of the bedrooms corridor with no express neighbor.“ I will buy you a new one since I broke it. Even if it’s, you, who had bring it in bed "
" No need, I have many that look similar. Nobody will notice. But I will have to be careful to not be seen topless for a while. I'm glad your nails are short for cooking, my back looks like I had a fight with a cat over a fish. "
" It’s your fault, my leg was already shaking and you didn’t stop, I was on the edge of passing out ! "You protest laughing. " You deserve the scratch for making me lose my mind." 
" It’s an honor I accept gladly “ He proudly said, joining you in your laugh. " I admit that my own orgasm was way better than usual, I remember you moaning quietly in my ear even if I’m not quite sure what you said." 
" Sanji, at this point I’m pretty sure I could’ve whispered to you the recipe of an Apple Pie and you would have come. You were so close, trying to keep your control, I still have a faint bruise of your hand on my hip." 
" Isn't it when I eat you out during round two that I left that mark ? I had to keep you in place pretty hard, you were rolling your hips and didn’t want to stop moving "He recalls, a huge grin now on his face. " I still can heard you - Please Sanji don’t stop, don’t stop " 
"Ha ha ha " You rolled your eyes, still smiling at the memories." Sanji, I think we both really need to sleep, but I had to know...are we okay ? I will not talk to my dad about it, you will not too and we will live with that happy memories without a problem. We are just two friend and coworker who’s during the anniversary of their restaurant decide to casually fucked. Right ? " 
" Yes, exactly," He confirmed, cleaning his area. 
" Perfect, good night Sanji " You said, kissing his cheeks before jumping off the counter and exiting the kitchen. 
" Good night Y/N " The blond replied, watching you go.
Now he knew  he was totally screwed. Even though he hadn't truly lied, he was now reassured that your father will never know. He knew that he wasn’t clearly okay with this casual arrangement anymore. He knew at first that it wasn’t the idea of the century but after that night and the sweet way you look at him, always caring for him when nobody seem to, he couldn’t hide the issue anymore, he was slowly falling for you and he already know it, it's will hurt like hell.  
---
Part two ?
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viviennevermillion · 10 months
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ᴀ ʀᴏꜱᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴇʀʀʏᴍᴀɴ
✧ ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: it is said that some people see the other side when they die even for just a brief moment. those near-death experiences often change them for good... blade wonders when the moment will come that he'll finally get to see you again.
✧ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴꜱ: blade x aeon!reader, gn!reader, fluff to angst, blade has a near-death experience; falls in love with you and then dan feng makes him immortal, ambiguous ending
✧ ɴᴏᴡ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ: 1000 years — kt tunstall
✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: major character death, separated lovers, themes of death, angst
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And thus, his chest was pierced by the same weapon he had forged with such care and effort. He felt an almost unbearable pain along with the notion of betrayal, hatred, anger and grief that seemed to cloud his entire senses. The sharp pain stretched from his heart all the way to his limbs and he could feel himself slipping in and out of consciousness. This is the end, he thought and part of him feared what would come next. This was the day that Yingxing died. The clouds over the Xianzhou were dark today and he knew that it was going to rain soon but he doubted he'd make it to feel the raindrops on his skin one last time.
The storm in his heart, seeming to seep out of the large wound and permeating his entire aura, raged on violently and seemed to devour him; toss him around like a lily caught in a tornado. He had never felt such pain before, both physically and emotionally.
And then the pain was gone.
Surprisingly, in that final moment, the one he had known as Dan Feng seized to exist for him. They say that everybody dies alone and he supposed in that moment he found that statement to be true. For a moment, the events that had led to the destruction of Yingxing stopped to matter. After all, he couldn't carry them along to wherever he was headed.
Perhaps that was a good thing.
He closed his eyes and yet he found himself to be able to see. He saw the stars above him, the sky suddenly clearer than he had ever seen it. It seemed to go on forever; like he could see galaxies far away from the Xianzhou just like that.
At first that void was frightening. It was too much, more than he ever had to feel in his life. There was a pressure and impending doom coming from the stars, as if he was laying on the ground and the sky was getting closer and closer until it would crush him under its weight. But the impact never came. Rather, the pain of his physical shell seemed to fade in the blink of an eye as he merged with the place from which he once came before inhabiting this mortal vessel and he noticed he couldn't even remember what it felt like to have a body.
He didn't know if "Yingxing" had stopped existing when his consciousness joined the great beyond once more or whether who he believed he was had never mattered in the first place. Like he had been caught up in a grand play and it was time for the curtain call. He had loved and hated the role that had been given to him to play but perhaps, most important of all, he had grown. As he let the universe wash over him, he felt, for a brief moment, as though everything he had went through had meaning after all.
He found himself on a distant shore, the stars sweeping over his feet like waves in an ocean. He sat himself up, finding his "body" without traces of the battle that had just occured. He let a strand of his long hair run through his fingers; now finding it to be a dark blue as it had been once in the old days.
Everything seemed so much more vivid than anything he had ever experienced. He could hear the sound of the waves with a clarity a mortal soul could only dream to experience. He could see for miles and everything seemed to burst into the most vibrant colors his eyes ever fell on. Every pebble under his right hand was one he registered individually. He didn't know where exactly he was but the place felt soothing. Like home.
The Aeon of Death had been something that was only ever speculated to exist. There were no records that confirmed their existence and no forces of their making that seemed to interfere with the material world other than the fact that every life sooner or later had to meet its end. This Aeon's existence was always regarded as more of a myth or metaphor than something people actually believed in, yet all depictions of them seemed to paint them as a harbinger of tragedy and suffering. Blade had seen drawings of them in books, dressed in flowing black fabrics and their face often obscured or distorted.
Yet when he saw you before him now, he found that the stories had it all wrong. Rather, your appearance was gentle and peaceful. He looked out to the sea and there you were, waiting patiently in a small boat for him to join you. The waves crashed into the bow and your boat swayed lightly to their motions. His hand reached for the waters and brushed through it, finding that rather than water; the sea seemed like the universe itself, his fingers casting ripples through the stars but never reaching the world he had just left.
You smiled at him from afar. In that moment he appeared to you like a child discovering something fascinating they had never seen before, playing with his surroundings to familiarize himself with it. You didn't mind waiting. You had time.
When he finally got up and carefully made his way to the boat, you got a better look at the man. He looked handsome but you could see on his face that whatever he had seen in this unreachable realm had taken a toll on him. He climbed into the wooden boat, sitting down in front of you, taking in your face for a little longer before he finally spoke.
"Why?", he simply asked, hurt evident in his voice as his words settled in the vast space around him, the silence that followed right after seeming to soothe his aches a little, "what was it all for?"
"You're the only one who will be able to answer that question eventually", you spoke quietly, making sure not to startle him, "I have never seen the world you come from. I can't reach it. I simply wait here for all who cross over. You chose to live this life, only you can find the reason."
He thought about your words for a moment, then letting out a bitter laugh. "Why would I choose something like that?"
You shook your head. "I can't tell you. And believe me I get that question a lot", you reached for a box behind you, placing it onto the small table that stood behind the two of you, "it seems our past choices can seem as unreasonable here as anywhere else." He mused that he probably shouldn't bother you with this type of stuff. However, he found himself to have a habit of ruining everything, so he supposed it was not that surprising for him to have chosen this painful life long ago.
His eyes fell onto the small ebony casket that had been placed before him.
"What's in the box?"
You gave him a mischievous smile. "In here lies the answer to any question you ever had", you spoke slowly, igniting an anticipation in him but also hesitation and fear, "however I must warn you. Opening it comes at a cost that is worth paying only for a select few." His eyes widened as he ran his fingers over the smooth material. He wondered, what could he have to give to you when he had just left everything behind upon entering this realm? Was he to sacrifice his chance at an afterlife and embrace eternal non-existence for the brief shot to make sense of it all?
"What's the price?"
You let out a laugh. "I jest", you responded and surprisingly, he felt a sense of relief wash over him, "there's no magic box that can explain the meaning of the universe to you." You lifted the lid to show him what was inside, placing a few cards and tokens on the table. Poker, he recognized the game and picked up a few of the pieces to inspect them; still trying to find something off about them. But they seemed to be just regular tokens. You smiled at the curiosity and suspicion in his eyes. Cute, you thought, surprised at your own reaction to your newest client. The craftsman raised an eyebrow.
"Why?"
"You'd be surprised how many people come here looking to bet and bargain."
He nodded. He could see why many humans would do this. "And you indulge them?", he questioned. You shook your head and winked at him. "Between us, I can win if I want to", you set up the game, "but you don't want to go back, so there's no need for me to intervene. We can play a friendly round if you'd like to."
He nodded once more, finding himself smiling at the absurdity of the situation. But it was a welcome change. Your presence seemed to soothe his aching soul with every minute he spent here, although he had no idea how much time had already passed. As you played, you gave him the chance to ask you more questions. Most of them were ones you had already had to answer over and over again. But there was something about this man that made them feel like a new experience; something that stimulated and amused you.
"So, is this the afterlife?", he asked dryly. "You can think of it as more of a.... hotel lobby. Your time here decides what room you'll end up in, so to speak", you tried to explain, "there's a world beyond what you've known so far that I can't possibly explain to you. You'll just have to see for yourself. But first we have to find out where your place lies." He pondered your words.
"And you're the receptionist?", he asked, feeling a little lost.
"Something like that", you chuckled as your eyes inspected his calloused hands, "I'll be your guide for as long as you stay here." Perhaps it was your own wishful thinking but you could almost see a hint of disappointment on his face. "And after that?", he asked, "will I ever see you again?"
He found himself surprised at his question but simultaneously he had gotten so used to that feeling of painlessness and peace he felt around you already, that he was afraid of losing it again in that place he was destined to go next. "It's only been a moment and you'd already miss me?", you teased, your fingers lightly brushing against his, "well I'm flattered." He didn't pull his hand away. He should pull away, he reasoned. He had been hurt so much, love and friendship had scarred him and made him wonder whether anything about it was worth the pain. But something about your touch felt so right, that he couldn't help but wish you'd just take his whole hand into yours and held it. Or just flip the table, forget all about the game and kiss him breathless.
He was shocked at his thoughts. His cheeks were heating up. What is wrong with me?, he internally cursed himself for being this weak for you. Just moments ago he had been in a brutal fight with his once closest companion; he had felt like his anger was going to be all that remained of him. And yet now the skies had shifted and the world he left behind felt so small along with the person he once was. What was so wrong about being happy?, he asked himself, clutching his fist, maybe it was time to be selfish for once and just forget all about what used to be and focus on the here and now.
Focus on you.
You who eased his sorrows even though they were still seeping into his mind every now and then. "There seems to be a lot on your mind", you sighed as you defeated him in the game, "may I ask for your name?" He didn't comment on his loss.
"I'm not sure", he shrugged, thinking back the the middle-aged man who died at the hands of the High Elder of the Vidyadhara. "Yingxing" didn't really feel right anymore. He felt as though he had taken a step into a larger world now. Reached a point of no return. You nodded, as though you could understand or had seen many like him pass through this place.
"You pick one", he shrugged, his eyes looking into the distance and you could tell he was still lost in thought. This was a lot to take in for him after all. Your eyes fell onto the sword he had brought along, undoubtedly one of his own making.
"How about 'Blade'?", you suggested, putting a finger to your chin. He thought about it for a moment, then felt himself nodding and smiling genuinely for the first time in a long time.
"Blade."
As time went on, he learnt that you had never been to the mortal realm. That you experienced it through the memories of those you guided to the other side. You promised that you would visit him at any time he wished to see you once he had crossed over. That time wasn't linear in this realm and that a second could feel like months here. He took his time to learn about you; to find out what interested you about the material world and what things you had seen in your line of work. What the universe was like, experienced by a being such as yourself. He had apologized for asking so many questions that you probably heard over and over again. You had simply shaken your head.
"All in a day's work."
You reassured him that you were enjoying your time with him. Basic questions about the realm Blade now found himself in turned into long conversations he thought he'd never have again. His soul was already laid bare before you, he didn't feel urged to hide his feelings and past from you. You were so attentive and understanding. He wished you had been there for his time on the Xianzhou. Maybe that would have made him feel a little less lost.
Fleeting touches turned into finally holding his hand in yours and him resting against your chest with a content smile on his face. He had never told you he loved you but he felt like deep inside you knew. The first time you kissed him, he felt a spark ignite inside him that he thought had long since been snuffed out. Your lips tasted sweet, like the salvation he had so desperately longed for, yet never could have imagined to be like this. He kissed back hungrily, your fingertips wiping away the tears of relief he couldn't stop from running down his cheeks. Every peck you left on his skin, whether you scattered them on his hands, his shoulders or placed them at the corner of his mouth; he felt he could never get enough of them.
He'd hold you tightly in his arms, leaving kisses on your neck before pulling you into a loving kiss again, his tongue clashing with yours as he poured all the words he couldn't say and the passion he couldn't put into words into his kiss. He eventually leaned his forehead against yours with a happy smile. You guided souls to the other side day in and day out. You never expected yourself to fall in love with one. But Blade had captured your heart by storm. He was the one you had been waiting for all this time. He was your forever. Both of you were finally happy.
You both knew he was ready to move on and spend the rest of eternity by your side. That was his place in the great beyond. And it seems it was meant to be yours too. He nodded as the two of you were ready to embark on your next great journey together, leaving the sea of doubts behind you, ready to step into the sun. Blade gave you one last kiss to your lips. He looked at you with a peaceful smile on his face, his eyes promising you forever.
And then that moment ended.
He could only hear you desperately call out to him as he was pulled away from you, his hand trying to clutch yours as he was fading from view and his fingers slipped out of yours. He was panicking. It couldn't end like this. He remembered how happy you were just a moment ago. How worried you must be now.
The peace and tranquility was quickly replaced by emptiness and grief and anger again as his soul violently slammed back into his once mortal body. If he thought the pain from exiting it was bad, the one from entering it again was even worse. He groaned in pain, clutching the large wound on his chest and feeling it close below his fingers, much to his surprise.
Suddenly the Xianzhou seemed to matter again and your soothing touch felt out of his reach. He thought he was simply healed. That this was temporary and if he wanted to, he could just go back to you. But he realized quickly that this was not the case.
His eyes widened in shock and he stared in disbelief at his shaking, scarred hands as he realized what had become of him. What someone made of him. His breath hitched in his throat as he bit back the sobs that escaped him. Tears were streaming down his cheeks as he looked up to the man who did this with horror in his eyes. Dan Feng seemed unresponsive, as if caught in a trance.
Blade bit his lips. He didn't want to cry in front of this man. Not like this. Not here. But he couldn't help the despaired sobs coming from his mouth. His voice broke when he spoke.
"What have you done?"
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Years had passed since that day. He often wondered what you would think if you could see him now. How bitter and hateful he had become; all the destruction he had caused on his path to reunite with you and kill the man who bestowed this cursed immortality onto him.
On some days it felt like the mara was driving him to the brink of insanity. Would he still be the same person you never got the chance to say goodbye to when death would finally come for him? Or would he have become something that you could never possibly love? The thought kept him awake at night. It scared him more than the pain he knew might plague him for many years to come.
He had never told anyone about you. You still felt like his happy ending that was ripped from his grasp and as much as the Stellaron Hunters helped him in his goal, he didn't want them or Dan Feng or anyone meddling in it.
He may have been the only one to have captured your heart, but there were many others who had almost crossed over and met you. Those who came back would sometimes seek him out and deliver messages from you to him. This was how, despite all, he at least had the reassurance that you were still out there waiting for him to return. The messages you had delivered to him were different each time but you never failed to tell him that you loved him so much.
Blade could hear the quiet beeping of the life support machine from outside the hospital room door. The nurse who had accompanied him here lightly knocked on the door and Blade could hear coughing from the other side. "Mr. Petrov? You have a visitor", she opened the door and Blade stepped into the room behind her.
Mr. Petrov had spent his whole life on a planet that Blade had never visited before. The old man opened his tired eyes to look at the stranger standing in the doorframe to his hospital room. He couldn't recall ever having met this person, but it was possible that he had simply forgotten about him. Meanwhile Blade knew for sure that the sickly man on the life support machine was a complete stranger.
Blade sat down beside his bedside, placing a small wooden box on the man's nightstand. He had left his phone on the starskiff; there was no need for Silver Wolf and Kafka to learn of this meeting.
"I'm sorry, but I'm not sure I recognize you, son", the old man coughed once more and gave him an apologetic look. Blade shook his head. "We've never met." The old man had no idea of the atrocities that Blade had committed. He didn't need to know this, Blade thought.
"Then what brings you here today?", the patient seemed surprised. "I need to ask you a favor", Blade simply responded. The old man let out an amused laugh, sending him into another coughing fit. "I'm not sure if they told you, my friend, but I only have a few days left to live", Mr. Petrov reached for the glass of water on the nightstand, "my respiratory system is shutting down. I'm not sure what favor I could possibly do for you. I'm 94."
"I'm aware", Blade sighed and for the first time since he woke up in this cursed body again he took up the courage to talk about you. He described to the man what you looked like. "If you meet this person- ...on the other side I mean", Blade stared off into space, "could you deliver a message to them? Tell them to wait for me. Tell them I'll find them again one day."
The dying man raised an eyebrow at the seemingly young Stellaron Hunter. "Well, I don't know what's waiting for me on 'the other side', kid, but I'd imagine the afterlife is pretty vast. There's no guarantee I'd meet this person you're talking about."
"You will", Blade insisted and opened the wooden box, revealing a game of poker inside, "up for a game or two?" Mr. Petrov scratched his beard. "Why?"
"Practice."
The old man laughed. "They play poker in the afterlife?", he seemed amused but helped Blade set up the game, "well, I suppose there are going to be a lot of people ready to bet and bargain." Blade felt himself smile slightly as he remembered the first time you met. He was hardly used to smiling anymore so it caught him off-guard.
Mr. Petrov inspected Blade's face. The man seemed lost in thought again, as if he was yearning for something. As if he had been waiting for a long time. Anyone else would have found this encounter with the young stranger in his hospital room absurd but the sick man just accepted the situation as it was. Impending death was weird like that.
"So...", he started, an expression of understanding on his face, "anything else you want me to tell his person?"
Blade hesitated for a moment. Images flashed through his mind of your smile and the way you had kissed him. The ideas you exchanged and the future you had promised each other. How, despite all, despite the frustration and hatred, Blade now had no doubt where he was meant to be. With new-found courage and sincerity Blade finally allowed himself to say what he hadn't dared verbalize for all this time.
"Tell them... tell them I love them. I love them so much, I have no idea what to do with myself. And I miss them... I miss them every goddamn day."
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melverie · 4 months
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OBEY ME MC & OC ASK GAME
an ask game specifically for your Obey Me MCs and OCs! List the OCs and MCs you want to get asks for and specify which species they are so people know which species-specific questions they can ask you Some questions have a lot of aspects to them; they're there to give you a little nudge in case you have no idea how to approach the question, but the only really important bit is the first question!
⸺ GENERAL INFO ⸺
01: What is their opinion on the other species? Would they rather be a different one? 02: Do they have a nickname? 03: When is their birthday? Do they celebrate it? Do they even remember it in the first place? 04: What kind of magic do they possess? If they can't use any, do they have magic potential slumbering within them? 05: Which deadly sin best aligns with them? Which one do they embody the least? 06: Have they been to other realms? Which one is their favorite and why? 07: What is their favorite place, and what do they love so much about it? 08: Do they have a kill count? How high is it? 09: Do they attend RAD? What is their role there? Their best subject/the one they teach? Club activties? If they don't attend RAD, what do they do? 10: What was there initial reaction to Diavolo's plans of uniting the three realms? Has their opinion changed? 11: Do they still have any objects from their childhood? What is their most vivid childhood memory? 12: What is something they have experienced that has shaped them into the person they are today?
⸺ RELATIONSHIPS & PERSONALITY ⸺
01: What's their relationship with...? [anon chooses at least one character for this one; MC is part of the cast if you're asking about OCs] 02: On a scale of 1 to 10, how annoying are they to Lucifer? :) 03: What is their family like? Do they have siblings? Pets? 04: What is a character trait that will immediately make them despise someone? On the flip side, how can you easily win their favor? 05: Do they openly show affection? What is their love language? [platonic or romantic] 06: Are they interested in romantic relationships? Do they have any experience? Are they proactive or would they rather be persued? 07: Would they date an immortal being if they aren't immortal themself, and vice-versa? 08: Are they easy to read or do they mask their intentions perfectly? Are they manipulative? A good liar maybe? What are their tells? 09: How is their temper? Are they quick to violence? Do they get frustrated easily? 10: Do they wear their emotions on their sleeve, or do they try to hide them from others as best as they can? Do they try to hide them from themself, too? 11: Do they cry often? What is the last thing they cried about? 12: What makes them soft? 13: What is their greatest wish? What would they be willing to sacrific to get it? 14: What is their biggest regret? 15: What is there biggest fear? Is there something they try to avoid at all cost? 16: How do they react when stressed? How does their behaviour differ when in a life or death situation? 17: What is a side of themself they don't want other to see? When does that side reveal itself?
⸺ CONCEPT AND DESIGN ⸺
01: How often do you think about them in a day? Be honest, I know they torment you in your thoughts as much as you torment them :) 02: What inspired you to create them, and what is the first thing you decided about them? 03: What is the biggest change you have made from their original concept? 04: What do they look like? Do you have a picture/picrew of what you envision them to look like? 05: Do they have any physical attributes that set them apart from others? 06: What is their clothing style? Do they put a lot of effort into their appearance? 07: How do you imagine their voice? Are they loud? 08: Anything you heavily associate with them? A color, a word, a picture, or something else? 09: Share some fluff headcanons about them! 10: How about some angst headcanons? >:) 11: Bonus: something else you really want to share about them that isn't mentioned on here ♡
⸺⸺ SPECIES-SPECIFIC QUESTIONS
⸺ ANGEL ⸺
01: What rank are they? [seraphim, cherubium, ophanim, ...] 02: How many wings do they have? Do they display them proudly, or do they try to hide them whenever possible? What kind of halo do they have? 03: Do they sometimes sneak out to visit the other realms? 04: Are they a guardian angel to someone? 05: Have they seen Michael in person and do they think he looks like a jellyfish? [the second part is mandatory, don't skip] 06: Did they know the brothers before they fell? Regardless of if they have or not, was is their opinion of them? And what do they think of fallen angels in general? 07: Did they fight in the Celestial War? What side were they on and why? 08: Have they ever questioned Father? What for? Were they punished for it? 09: How close are they to falling? If they are a fallen angel, what made them fall? 10: What is something they would willingly fall for?
⸺ DEMON ⸺
01: Wings or tail(s) in demon form? What do their horns look like? 02: Are they part of demon nobility or would they have taken the train back in the day? 03: Do they have any special abilities? [such as Mephisto's power to essentially forge pacts with demons, Lucifer's power to read and manipulate memories, and so on] 04: Are they a fallen angel? If so, do they regret falling? 05: Have they forged any pacts yet? How eager are they to do so, and do they forge them often? If they haven't, why not? 06: How would they go about forging pacts? Do they have a specific strategy they fall back on, or do they go with the flow? 07: How loyal are they to their human master? 08: Have they given anyone their grimoire? 09: What do they do with human souls? 10: Solomon shows up at their doorstep in the middle of the night to ask for a pact. How do they react? 11: What is their opinion of Diavolo as a ruler? Have they experienced the reign of any other demon kings? How does Diavolo compare in their opinion? 12: What was their reaction to the brothers first arrving in the Devildom? Were they scared of a potential war? Hostile toward them? Did they extend a helping hand? 13: If they attend RAD, were they chosen for the exchange program? Did they go to the Celestial Realm or the human realm?
⸺ HUMAN ⸺
01: How old are they? 02: Are they immortal? If given the opportunity, would they like to be? 03: Did they believe in demons and angels before the exchange program? Did they have any contact with the paranormal before it? 04: Do they have a guardian angel? Have they forged any pacts? 05: Are they into demons and/or angels? If they had to choose one or the other, which one would they go for? [trying to word this SFW but I'm sure you know what I mean :)] 06: Who do they trust more—angels or demons? Why? 07: Where do you think they would most likely end up in—heaven or hell? 08: Do they carry anything with them to protect themself from the paranormal? 09: How close were they to just bless the water inside a demon's body and turn it into holy water because they were just so done with them?
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copperbadge · 2 years
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Okay so wait a minute, with this aphantasia thing. I don’t think I have aphantasia because I process audio fine, in fact I prefer not to have any visual, but apparently there is some relationship between it and ADHD. I’m not trying to be confrontational in any of this but I’m bewildered by the idea of mentally picturing things you listen to or read about. It’s bothered me since I posted the ask. 
I can picture things in my head, if I stop and make a conscious decision to build them, but if I’m doing that I can’t do anything else -- I can’t listen to a podcast and picture it in my head and also do something with my hands. Come to think of it I probably couldn’t even keep up with the podcast if I was trying to picture it in my head, I’d struggle to choose which things to imagine and by the time I got them built they’d have moved on. It never feels like a very useful thing to do, because I’ve already got the words, that’s the important part, and I’d rather be doing stuff. I just assumed that most of the time when people talk about picturing stuff they’re either doing it very deliberately, like a guided meditation, or they’re being poetic, like people don’t actually do that, we just say we do as a way of describing someone thinking about something.
So, I’m listening to a podcast in which the host reads a letter from Napoleon Bonaparte to his brother, discussing his brother’s relationship with his wife (“she’s still young, let her dance if she wants, don’t lock her up with the kids all day.”) If you see images in your head when you hear audio, are you seeing the host reading off a sheet of paper, or Napoleon writing the letter, or Napoleon talking to his brother, or are you seeing Napoleon’s brother being mean to his wife? If you don’t know what any of these people look like, do you just make something up? 
Jesus Christ, when people read erotica do they picture the sex happening? What’s that like? You just get porn in your head involuntarily? I mean, not involuntarily, you’re choosing to read the text, but it just shows up when you do? 
Writers, when you write do you get mental images as you go? I often will pause in writing to build a mental image in my head and then describe it but as soon as I do it disappears, and it’s mostly a waste of time so I really only do that when I need to describe a space that people are moving around in (like the fishing lodge with the kitchen bar dividing the living room and kitchen, I do have several mental “camera snaps” of that setup, but I don’t picture it when I’m writing about it). 
This might explain why I always get yelled at for not describing people in my books. It’s simply unimportant to me 99% of the time and awkward to try and insert it the other 1%. I don’t picture people in my head when I read -- they’re a personality, a collection of characteristics. My characters don’t have faces to me, like how people in dreams don’t have faces, you just know who they are. I describe them but that’s just words I really like, or I pick out people who already exist and just say “oh they look like that”. Obviously when someone wants a description I do my best to supply it, but in prose it’s just not important. 
This is genuinely blowing my mind. This is why people always want descriptions of things! They get to see the descriptions! Reading a book must be like going to an art gallery anytime you want without moving. Is that what it’s like? Is this super common, like am I the weird one, or is this just like for people with super vivid imaginations? 
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windienine · 3 months
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the best game of 2024 was an hour-long visual novel demo, and i can't tell you how it ends
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attack and dethrone god.
okay. oh my god. soul of sovereignty by ggdg (of lady of the shard & deltarune fame) is discounted for only a few more days, so i need to get this one out while the iron's hot.
so: i'm inviting you along on another journey. we're following a polite gentleman of the wizardly inclination (loïc) who is approached by a sickly woman in dire need (ysmé). all she requests, in her plea, is an escort to guide her to the nearby temple. his decision to support her may turn out to be the most important choice he ever makes.
... have you ever enjoyed the kind of narrative that traps two people with heavily contrasting motives and personalities together in an unbreakable contract? do you like stories of absolute devotion?
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i could look at this shot forever ngl
... are you compelled by immersive speculative fantasy worlds where the use and study of magic heavily influences the rhythm of people's day-to-day lives?
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(really intriguing magical linguistics system going on here)
... do you ever promise too much of yourself to others, sometimes, even when it's a bad idea?
... if it was possible -- if you could -- would you abandon your humanity for the power to change your world forever?
and, whatever you may feel in your heart about the above...
do you want to see behind the eyes of a hot trans girl as she bullshits her way into a truly volatile level of power and influence and gets everything she wants?
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(+ her pet dilf lovely assistant)
if even one of these elicited a "yes," i think you'll love this story.
i'll go out of a limb:
i think, if you open up your heart, you'll find yourself falling for both of the leads. It's a game that really wants you to look at it from every angle, take it apart, and ask questions about loïc, ysmé, their stories, and what they believe to be true about the world and one another. subtext -- especially the charged subtext this story throws at you and hopes you'll piece together -- is a beautiful thing.
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the number of talksprites in this demo is kind of staggering
the jrpg-inspired world of the mosaic and its surroundings is as vibrant as it is profoundly lonely, color folded into every facet of its character as you move through it. appropriately, it's really invested in a lot of questions that arise not just from high fantasy as a genre, but from the modern fantasy sensibilities of jrpgs and the interrogation of what divinity even means in a world where the gods are forces you can interact with and draw power from, however indirectly.
what can i even say? that gg and toby fox's collab score for the prelude is downright heavenly and made it onto my work playlist right alongside the deltarune ost the day it came out on bandcamp? that gg's art, especially their use of light, conveys every scene with vivid beauty?
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i wouldn't be posting so much of it if i didn't want to eat every CG. oh my god. he's so pretty. it's not even fair
beyond all of that, i think the game's main resonance point with people is that gg's writing is genuinely thoughtful. they use art detail and deft character writing to convey everything about the leads, using the limited time you get with it to paint layers and layers of information on who these people are and why they make the decisions they do. soulsov's roughly an-hour-and-change of text, expressive talksprites, and lush CGs is infused with so much heart and so much horror and so much intrigue that it leaves you feeling like you're a part of this world, carried along for the ride right alongside the two leads. gg clearly really adores these two, and that level of passion makes everything loïc and ysmé do shine even brighter. in spite of (or perhaps because of) all their friction and flaws, they're easy to love.
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(it's really fun to read aloud as a script, too! ysmé's a hoot.)
i hope you experience it with high expectations and an open heart. i don't think it will disappoint. it is, perhaps, just a little bit magical.
i hope you see it through to the end!
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