#they’re always SUPER vivid and straight up horror | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bkdk-n-tasty · 5 years

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So I’m sick and have no energy to do anything but shit post and throw out head cannons. So y’all are in for a treat.

I’m throwing down my hc’s for abo verse cause I’m a needy bitch right now 💜😷 Basically everything in canon is followed asides from the abo factors

only 18+ cause of smut, very vivid smut at the bottom

• Deku like everything else in his life is a late af bloomer. He probably doesn’t present as literally anything till his second year or third year of HS

• Cause he’s always surrounded by alphas and betas he basically smells like a mixture up till he presents

• When he does finally present everything goes sideways

• This most definitely happens during a co-training with class B and of all people he’s training with/against Monoma who is definitely an alpha

• Of course, at the time Monoma is throwing shade at Katsuki, talking shit about the other alpha (who hasn’t asked Deku out yet but they’re on much better terms)

• All of sudden there’s this oddly sickly sweet scent mingled with Izuku’s normal scent, like grass after it’s rained but just a little too sharply of a scent

• Monoma is the first to react; like he talks a big ass game but he’s one of the very weakest at basic instincts and tries to attack the flustered Izuku and tries to claim him ((though he is 100% with Shinsou))

• On the other side of the training field//or whatnot is Katsuki, he’s been anything but focused all day + super agitated but he thinks it’s just pre-rut stuff and puts it to the back of his mind

• As soon as Izuku presents he loses it; like he doesn’t know it mentally but physically he knows it. His body reacts to his omega finally, finally presenting and he blasts his way all the way to Izuku

• He finds his omega being sexually assaulted by another alpha. It doesn’t even register who it is, just that another alpha is touching his omega and that beautifully sweet scent is mingled with the scent of distress

• And we know Katsuki will protect his green bean. He practically grabs Monoma by the scruff of his neck and yeets him right into the shadow realm, throwing in some blast so he gets the point

• with the other alpha gone Izuku is whining and still reeking of distress so Katsuki quickly goes to him, wrapping him up in his arms while scenting him and nosing at the omega’s neck to breathe in the new scent and fuck does it get Katsuki hot and bothered

• With this happening where teachers could see, Katsuki manages to scoop up his docile omega who is nuzzling into his alpha is almost light like a feather compared to his normally dense weight. Idfk where but he vanishes with his omega - probably back home while his parents are @ work

• if Katsuki was thinking he’d try and make a nest for his omega but he isn’t and can’t think about anything asides from the delicious scent the omega is creating. He can’t think past getting his knot inside the omega who was again whining but for a whole different reasons

• instead of being sweet and gentle with his omega he’s rough and drops Izuku on the bed and quickly covers him with his body, pinning him down while kissing Izuku like his life depends on it

• meanwhile Izuku is becoming a wet mess between his thighs and he’s clawing his alpha’s back in a need to get closer to the other. He’s moaning and begging and is an absolute mess and they’re only kissing and dry humping

• Katsuki tears his lips away from Izuku’s and momentarily enjoys the look on Izuku’s face, the way his lips are bruised and for a moment imagines those lips around his throbbing cock but pushes that thought down. Instead, he presses hungry kisses to Izuku’s body as he yanks him free of his uniform

• once he has the omega free from all forms of clothing he enjoys the view of Izuku wiggling on his bed, naked and whining for his cock and fuck that goes straight to his dick

• We all know Katsuki eats the fuck out of his wet omega, manhandles Izuku until he’s nearly folded in half so Katsuki and Izuku could make straight-up eye contact the whole time as well. And this omega is in for a treat as his alpha tongue fucks him right into oblivion

• Izuku is straight up an absolute mess when Katsuki has deemed it enough “foreplay”. The poor boy is moaning and shuddering under all of Katsuki’s touches and sweet praises

• With Izuku all blissed out Katsuki lines himself up and shoves his cock inside of Izuku in one easy thrust. Of course, it burns but it’s a good burn in Izuku’s mind as he’s filled to the brim with his alpha’s thick cock, it’s almost mind-numbing

• Katsuki doesn’t fuck his omega right into oblivion only because he sees those fat tears running down the omega’s soft cheeks and if Katsuki is anything is the god damn best alpha ever. He kisses those tears away as he lets Izuku adjust to his size. He peppers his omega in soft praises for being so good at taking him, that he’s the best omega and is so damn pretty. And Izuku eats it all up and presses his own messy kisses to the alpha and tells him that he’s ready

• Honestly, it takes everything in Katsuki not to fuck the omega’s brains out hearing that he’s ready. Instead, he takes it slow, grinding against Izuku to get him fully adjusted to his size and girth. It’s when Izuku starts to beg that the alpha loses all control and become lost in instincts

• Honestly, Katsuki loses all functional brain cells when he’s balls deep in his omega’s sweet hole. He bites, nips and kisses at Izuku’s scent gland, encouraging that delicious scent to waft out. It just fuels all his lust

• Izuku is begging for Katsuki’s knot, between being delirious from being ate open and getting pounded into the bedsheets he just needed his alpha to claim him and he didn’t need to worry about that

• Katsuki’s knot came faster than he’d like to admit but the taste of his omega, his Izuku left no room to complain. He doesn’t think about it when he shoves his swollen knot inside of Izuku’s clenching hole. His mouth finds Izuku’s gland quickly and as he’s pumping the omega full he breaks the skin and marks Izuku’s scent gland, claiming him as his

• Once claimed Katsuki gently maneuvers Izuku because every movement leaves him gasping because his knot is so sensitive. He moves behind Izuku so he’s carefully spooning him, wrapping his arms protectively over his sweet omega

• Izuku slowly comes to, his hands on his stomach as the small area of soft skin just above his pelvis rounds out from the sheer amount of seed his alpha is pumping inside of him. He snuggles back against his alpha, breathing that spicy Smokey scent he’s only now able to appreciate

• Izuku quietly and meekly asks what they were now, afraid and confused because he’d just presented as an omega and had heard the horror stories about omegas being mated and left pregnant and alone. Katsuki huffs before gently kissing the new mating mark he’d left moments before

• Katsuki of course answers they’re mates, duh. But then elaborates since Izuku couldn’t see his face, telling him that they were lovers, boyfriends, whatever term Izuku wants to use because they were together now, through thick and thin.

• Katsuki preens when Izuku softly hums happily that they were mates. Izuku tugs Katsuki’s hand over his swollen pouch, asking if he thinks they’ll end up pregnant. Katsuki teases that they’ll just mate all day till he’s so full he has to be pregnant

• Katsuki teases but that’s exactly what they do...They literally fuck all day and bless Mitsuki’s heart, she’s the one that finds her son and his mate -still knotted- and nearly faints. Instead, she instead goes back downstairs and notifies the school that she found the boys. She calls Inko and tells her that she found them but doesn’t tell her that they’re mates, no the boys were going to do that...

• and they do later, the next day. Izuku is literally so flustered about it and can’t even sit straight because of how sore his bottom is and everything

• and they end up being parents before they graduate top of their class. They’re the first official alpha/omega duo heroes. Katsuki fights everyone that gets too close to his very pregnant omega except for a few people he feels are safe enough to be that close to

• And tbh from this experience Katsuki and Izuku both find out that they both enjoy seeing Izuku pregnant. Katsuki gets more aroused seeing his omega all swollen and round, he even rubs Izuku’s swollen feet and everything to make up for it too. Izuku eats it all up so he can hide the fact he loves being heavy and all full with his mate’s children

#abo verse #omega izuku #alpha katsuki #they're all sinners here #enjoy my delirious needs #i literally woke up in a cold sweat needing to write this down

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doitsuxi · 4 years

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Omae Gotoki: WN review

To put it simply, Omae Gotoki is a masterpiece. I’ll try to keep this short review spoiler-free, there’s a high probability no one will ever read it but damn even if just one person reads it two years from now I’ll feel like my job is complete.

Omae Gotoki began as Web Novel on naoru by kiki, the author posted relentlessly and completed the story in a very short time, then they began publishing it in LN format and it eventually got a bimonthly manga adaptation by non other than Minakata Sunao, author of Akuma no Riddle and many yuri doujinshi. The LN, WN and manga have some differences in the story and style, the LN is definitely more polished, but I’ll talk about the WN since it’s complete.

The setting is a classical medieval fantasy with RPG elements thing, characters and monsters have stats and one attribute, some of them are common and some other are unique, there are also items that modify stats; common gear doesn’t really do much, while uncommon and up gear usually boost stats and have special effects, there are also cursed items that decrease stats and have special effects as well, but these are always things like ‘increases the user’s pain sensitivity’ or things that straight up kill the user, so yeah, no one uses them. The overall power of a character is calculated by adding all stats together.

The main character is Flum Apricot, a country girl who has the unique attribute ‘Reverse’ and whose all stats are 0. She somehow got summoned by Origin, the god of that world, to partake in a crusade against the Demon Lord, along with other people who either have an unique attribute as well or are have made a name for themselves through hard work. Most of that info and more you can find by reading the synopsis in any LN/WN site, so I’ll just concentrate on telling you why it’s so great. Omae Gotoki is the perfect combination of action, fantasy, eldritch horror, romance and slice of life. It’s a dramatic WN with very vivid depictions of gore, detailed and entertaining fights, interesting characters, a heartwarming love story and just a touch slice of life, which is there to remind us what is Flum fighting for. The plot becomes darker as the story advances forward and the characters develop accordingly. If I gotta choose one thing that I absolutely loved is how the main character is not an all-loving heroine, nor is she an edgelord who hates everything and everyone. She goes through some fucked up shit and some events have a massive psychological impact on her, she grows and learns from her mistakes, she’s scarred by some things and people and still decides to move forward and grasps on the strands of hope along the story, nonetheless her might is not unbreakable and other characters, in particular her love interest Milkit, are the ones who push her forward on those times. Something I’d love to explain further is how her sense of morality’s just... not something you would expect from a character like her, and it’s made evident and is even commented by other characters time and time again on the story, but I think I’d have to spoil some plot points if I go further than that. Now, for the love story, I’m gonna go ahead and admit I’m not a big fan of love stories in action/horror/whatever because I feel like it sidetracks the plot and sometimes doesn’t even add anything. But boy, do I love the main romantic subplot in Omae Gotoki. I’m calling it a subplot, but it’s actually integral part of the story, a lot of the plot would change drastically if it was omitted, and in my opinion, it would change for the worst. Milkit and Flum make such an amazing pair, they always support each other, but because of both of their scarred mental states their relationship is very co-dependent. They have one of the most accurate co-dependency relationship I’ve ever seen in any medium, it depicts two persons who can’t be separated anymore because only they are capable of understanding each other since they’ve both been through hell. It’s stated their relationship is not normal, fruit of the horrible things they’ve lived together. Their interactions and view of each other are commented and analyzed by other characters and the author themselves. I need to point out it’s a super slow-burn romance, but even so it’s super interesting to read, sometimes it’s tragic, sometimes it’s funny, sometimes it’s heartwarming and since they’re teenagers trying to figure out what the heck this doki doki in their chest is, they also have their awkward teenager moments, which I found both adorable and hilarious. Now for the warnings: as mentioned before, this story depicts gruesome and violent fights, body horror, gore, lots of blood, borderline eldritch abominations and it gets worse the more the story advances. There are also some heavy scenes involving suicide, torture, homicide and/or abuse. Finally, two of the side couples depict relationships that some people could have trouble with. To put it simply, there are some underage characters that get paired with much older characters, nothing explicit is ever shown on the WN, but for one pairing there are some heavy implications they engage in sexual activities. So yeah, if you can stomach most of that, I’d strongly advice reading the WN which is complete. The LN is being released and has been licensed, the English translation of the first volume will be released on October 2020. So far, English translation of the WN cover up to chapter 24. I read it using Google Translate and a Japanese-to-English dictionary over a year ago. It took a long time and a lot of patience to finish it, but let me tell you it was absolutely worth it.

I’ll leave some links here: List of translated chapters (WN) https://www.novelupdates.com/series/do-you-think-someone-like-you-can-defeat-the-demon-king/ List of WN chapters (completed, Japanese) https://ncode.syosetu.com/n5361em/

#omae gotoki

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cinnamonrollpatton · 5 years

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Aftermath- Chapter One

Chapter 1: Virgil Makes a Friend?

Also On AO3

Virgil tugs his hood further down to cover his face as he wanders endlessly down the road. It’s more for comfort than anything else; the harsh wind is blowing through the chill night, but surprisingly he can’t feel a thing through his purple hoodie and jeans.

He’s not sure how long he’s been walking. The sky is still as dark and ominous as it was when he first woke up on this vaguely familiar street. No matter how hard he tries, he can’t recall much of what happened before waking up; there was darkness, a burning sensation in his chest, and then he woke up here.

He’s not even sure where “here” is; even with the multiple streetlights, it’s too dark to make out any of the writings on the various buildings’ signs.

Footsteps echo behind him, and he spins around. A figure in a winter coat far in the distance is walking in his direction. Virgil feels ecstatic; it’s the first person he’s seen since he’s woken up in who-knows-where.

He jogs to meet the figure. As he gets closer, the man’s grey coat and red hat becomes visible. Virgil waves to get his attention, but the man seems focused on a spot behind Virgil.

“Hey!” Virgil yells, then frowns. His voice doesn’t sound like him, all weird and distorted. He clears his throat, and tries again. “Hey!”

Distracted with his voice, he isn’t aware of the man continuing to approach him until the man has passed him. He scrambles to catch up. “Hey, wait!”

Virgil matches his pace with the stranger. “Hey dude, I’m super lost; can you tell me where I am? Please?”

The man pulls his phone out of his pocket, seemingly to check the time, and quickens his pace. “ Wait, hold on!” He reaches for the man’s shoulder.

His hand glides straight through the coat, and he freezes. What the heck? The man walks on, unaware of the distressed soul behind him.

He brings his hand close to his face; it appears solid and normal. He then pushes his hand against a nearby streetlight, his eyes widening when his hand phrases straight through.

His head spinning, Virgil tries to gain back control of his suddenly erratic breathing. There has to be some explanation to this nightmare. Maybes this is just a vivid dream?

But he hasn't dreamt in nearly a decade.

It hits him, hard, and he wishes he didn't understand: he's alone, again. And now he’s stuck here.

His knees buckle and he falls on his knees on the hard, cold ground that he should be able to feel but can't.

He can't feel anything, and he’s all alone.

No one can hear or see him.

He closes his eyes and screams in agony anyway.

He loses time.

The sun is in the sky now; it must be morning, or possibly afternoon. Virgil doesn’t really know, nor does he care. In the daylight, Virgil recognizes the street he’s taken position in as one of the main street of the city, which was only two blocks away from his campus. The familiarity does nothing to comfort him.

He hasn’t moved from where he fell, although now he's sitting with his knees pulled up to his chest and buries his head in his arms. He’s barely conscious of the people briskly walking around and through him and the cars driving in the road.

He has long given up on trying to be seen or heard.

“Hey,” suddenly there’s a young female voice in front of him; he flinches, thinking someone is talking to him, before he remembers that’s impossible. “Hey! You look familiar,” the voice continues. “...Virgil, right?”

Startled, Virgil’s head flies up to see a girl about his age with short, curly brown hair, and a red sweater crouching in front of him. Numbly, Virgil nods.

The girl grins. “Yay, I got your name right! I’m usually horrible with names, haha. You were a student at the university two blocks down from here, right?”

Virgil nods again, confused on the past tense.

“I was too.”

“ Was?” Virgil asks.

The girl flinches. Before Virgil can ask, she recovers quickly and shrugs nonchalantly. “Well, yeah. It’s kind of hard to attend classes when you’re dead.”

“ Dead?”

“Yes, dead. Deceased. In the grave. It’s a slight prerequisite to becoming a ghost last time I checked.”

“ Ghost?”

She frowns and rolls her eyes impatiently. “What are you, a parrot? Yes, ghost. We’re ghosts. You’ve been dead for a while now, if you haven’t noticed.”

Virgil’s eyes widen, his gut lurches, and the girl’s expression softens.

“Oh, you didn’t know,” she says, her voice softening. “Well, welcome to the afterlife!” she says, gesturing to the surroundings.

Virgil shifts his eyes to the people shuffling around or through the duo. “ So that’s why no one can see or hear us.”

“10 points to the dude in the hoodie!” She says in a manner not unlike a gameshow host. “It’s also why your voice sounds like that.” She frowns, eyes shifting to the side before looking at Virgil again. “Speaking of voices, you best keep that distinct voice of yours as silent as you can.”

Virgil frowns. “ Why?”

Moving her hand through her hair, she sighs. “I’m assuming you’re not consciously doubling it.”

Virgil nods.

She winces. “Yeah, I figured. Darn, that means you have a bit of a problem.”

“What do you mean?”

There’s barely concealed pity in her eyes. “There's a general rule in the local ghost community to keep on the down low as much as possible; it's keeps us from getting on hunters’ radar. And there's certain-”

“Wait, hunters? Like people who track down deer and stuff?”

“Kinda. Except we're the deer. And we're always in season.” She laughs, like possible death is humorous. “Hunters are convinced that all ghosts are like evil, corrupted monsters or something. I'll be honest, I’m not very monstrous. And I don't think you are either, and you've been dead longer than I have.”

“Wait, how long have I've been dead? And how do you know so much about me? I don't know you at all.”

She squints into the distance. “I think it’s been...three weeks? Pretty sure it’s been three weeks. Time is a little hard to keep track of time sometimes.”

“ How long have you been dead?”

“About a week less than that.”

“ So how do you know when I died when I don’t know you?”

Her eyes drop from Virgil's, and her hands start fiddling with the drawstrings from her sweatshirt. “Um, about that, we didn't really hang out when we were alive. When you died, the university made uh, quite the public announcement about it, since you died on campus. And they, uh,” she looks up at Virgil. “Wait, do you remember how you died yet?”

Images flash in Virgil’s mind: a college dorm cast in darkness, hands shaking in apprehension. Virgil shakes his head to clear it. “Not really, no.”

There’s pity in her smile. “That’s ok. Memories leading up to death take a while to come back sometimes.”

“ Do you remember how you died yet? Or your life? I don’t remember much.”

“I remember enough,” she says, a fire flashing in her eyes momentarily. Virgil blinks at the sudden and complete 180 in her composure. She smiles a little too brightly. “Welp, that’s enough for ghost orientation today,” she says, standing up and walking away. “See ya, Virgil. Do remember to hide that unique voice of yours silent if you want to stick around here; not everyone likes a Banshee.”

“Wait,” Virgil stands up as well. “What’s a Banshee?”

She turns back to Virgil with a crooked grin. “Remember that angel statue like two buildings from here?”

Virgil nods.

“Have you taken a look at it since you’ve died?”

Virgil shakes his head.

Her eyes light up, and Virgil’s uneasiness grows. “Well, let’s go on a field trip then!” Grabbing Virgil’s arm, she makes her way to the statue, Virgil dragging behind.

“ What’s so important about a sta-” Virgil’s voice trails off when they arrive at the statue. Or more accurately, where the statue should be.

Only the statue’s base remains in its entirety. The angel’s limbs are sprinkled across the ground below it. Short wings protrude from the torso, becoming stumps after a foot or two, a mere echo of the great wingspan it used to have.

The angel Virgil has always seen as a constant landmark has been reduced to ruins.

“This, my friend,” she says. “Is why rarely any ghosts like Banshees.”

“ How did this happen?”

“Do you remember yelling or screaming at all since you died?”

Virgil pauses. “No? Wait, I think I did some my first night. Why?”

She points to the statue. “That’s the result.”

“You're saying I did this?”

“Yup,” she says. “A Banshee’s scream can and usually will cause physical damage, among other things.”

Virgil stares at the chaotic mess of the statue in horror.

“That’s why you need to keep that voice as quiet as you can. Because stuff like this,” she gestures to the ruin. “- gets the attention of hunters and temperamental ghosts, and unfortunately none of them are as nice as I am.”

“ I don’t understand,” Virgil says. “ Why help me out? Why even give me a warning?”

Her crooked grin appears again. “That’s for me to know, and you to ponder on. See ya around, Virge.” She closes her eyes, and her form starts fading to nothing.

“ Wait, you never told me your name!”

“Morgan,” she says with a grin, disappearing completely.

Hunter’s Guide to the Supernatural: Fast Facts on Ghosts and Ghouls

#1. Immediately after their death, ghosts are typically disorientated. Their memory of the events leading up to their death may be shaky until hours, days, or even weeks afterward. In some cases, the disorientation is so extreme the ghost does not initially realize they’re dead.

#2. After people die, their ghost typically first appear in close distance to where they died.

Tag List:

@thelogicalloganipus

@vigilantvirgil

@rileyfirstname

@kawaiinekogirl27

@the-straight-as-a-circle-girl

#sander sides #Virgil Sanders #thatsthat24 #storm writes #I posted this on AO3 an eon ago but I forgot to post it here lol

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sakurabeam · 7 years

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[utapri] ficlet: sun in the night

Name: Sun in the Night Series: Utapri Characters: Ittoki Otoya, Ichinose Tokiya Summary: A conversation after a nightmare. Notes: a bday gift for @lolis4laifu! hbd, ily odin!! you are the tokioto veteran so i tried not to make things super detailed bc im scared of inaccuracies hsihagsufhss but we’ve talked so much ep9 which im still upset about how it ended so here??? hiahdghaj i hope you like it aaaa

“Otoya? Otoya? Wake up--”

The first thing he sees is a face-- a familiar face-- who--?

His vision clears and focuses-- blue hair, the pair of beautiful blue eyes--

“To...kiya…”

The name is mumbled, slurred with sleep.

The originally scrunched up face softens as the man breathes out a sigh of relief. Otoya did not notice before, but there are beads of sweat running down his roommate’s face, the brows which were pressed together in lines of worry relaxes, smoothing out to his usual impassive face.

“What’s wrong?” His voice is still slurred, mind littered with sleep.

Tokiya moves away and that’s when Otoya finally realises that the other has been hovering over him. Hands balancing on the bed, he pushes himself up, hands rubbing at his eyes.

“You were having a nightmare.”

Eyes still half closed, Otoya cannot help the flinch at the unexpected ghosting of Tokiya’s hand over his cheeks. A blink later, he’s faced with Tokiya wiping the same hand on his pants. Otoya opens his mouth to question but stops short as a realisation dawns on him. Immediately, his own hands reaches upwards to wipe at his cheeks.

Sure enough, they come away damp.

He sits there in a moment of awkwardness before he laughs, a hand reaching upwards to rub sheepishly at his nape. “Sorry, sorry, did I wake you up?”

“No… I was awake.”

Oh, right. Tokiya mentioned he wanted to finish that book. That means… he witnessed the entire nightmare sequence? That’s... kinda embarrassing.

Tokiya has always remarked about his sleeping position, too messy, even reprimanding him on how dangerous it is. He recalls waking up to a cold finger poking his exposed stomach constantly on one hot summer day. The face that greeted him looked exasperated, but not without a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. But even that wasn’t embarrassing at all. Otoya doesn’t mind Tokiya seeing how he sleeps at all, but this time was...

Otoya does not want Tokiya to see him like this. Not after a nightmare. Not after this kind of nightmare.

He just laughs.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He detects traces of worry in the soft voice, but before he can reassure-- “You’ve been acting strange after your duet with Eiichi.”

Otoya twines his fingers together.

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

A pause. Otoya should not be surprised that Tokiya noticed. Tokiya is too close to him, too perceptive, and there’s a small part of him that is happy that Tokiya cares, but-- A bright smile. “Of course! I was okay when you all came to pick me up at the fields. I was happy.”

“But you seem different.”

There’s nothing but worry in Tokiya’s voice, but for a second, all Otoya can think is-- “But it’s fake?”

Admiration, worry, affection, all gone.

Just contempt--

Otoya swallows.

He wants to push that image back down -- the haunting image that never left his mind even after finding his answer. But it’s hard. No matter how much he tries to think of something else, the nightmare is still too fresh, emotions too heavy. He can’t hold onto the answer he arrived at, can’t make himself think that it’s really okay when everyone leaves.

“Tell me.”

“I... just think that you will... leave.” A pause, then his subsequent words come in short breaths. Otoya isn’t sure why he even told him; The truth simply tumbles out of his mouth awkwardly, a confused mess. “Get disappointed. Go away from me. It’s kinda stupid but--”

An arching of eyebrows. Concern. “It’s not--”

“I know, but when I say it out, it just feels stupid.”

Otoya’s heart is hammering in his chest and for a whole two seconds that seem to stretch into eternity, he regrets his decision to speak up, spill his secrets -- it’s not really a secret though. If he’s really alright with the possibility that everyone will be disappointed, Otoya shouldn’t be afraid.

But the nightmares remain.

Of them each leaving, one by one. Masato. Natsuki. Ren. Cecil. Syo. Nanami. Even Tokiya.

Then a hand is placed gently on his shoulder, drawing him out of his images conjured by the too vivid nightmare. Serious blue eyes stare intently into his -- Tokiya’s eyes are always so pretty. “I won’t be disappointed in you. I can’t speak for everyone but I… believe the rest feel this way too. Otoya, I won’t leave. Nor anyone else.”

Otoya grits his teeth, voice sharper than intended. “You don’t know that.”

Surprise flickers in the blue orbs, hand on his shoulder tightens ever so slightly.

“Sorry.” Otoya dips his head. “In times like this, I... can’t be the Ittoki Otoya you expect me to be…”

“Wait.” His voice is quiet now, slight tinge of horror steeping into his voice. “Expect you to be? I’m not expecting you to be anything, Otoya.”

“No, that’s not--” He’s shaking his head before he notices, words spilling out before they’re processed-- are they okay to be said? To be revealed to... Ichinose Tokiya? “I have to always smile. And if you ever know that my smiles are fake--”

“Otoya.” The hand on his shoulder is strong, voice losing the gentleness, replaced by firmness, and the words in Otoya’s throat die. “It’s alright if your smiles are not real.”

He stares back, uncomprehending. “What?”

“You don’t have to smile all the time.”

He just stares.

A sigh. “You’re not a robot, Otoya. You may be an idol -- yes, you have the image of an idol to keep up, but that doesn’t mean that you must uphold the image all the time. You are human. Of course, you have times you’re down.”

"...”

Tokiya levels a gaze at him, a small smile on his lips. “And I too, would like it if you don’t put up fronts with me. I like to think that I’m your closest friend. So... you should be sad when you’re sad. Be angry when you’re angry. You don’t have to smile when you don’t want to. Whatever you’re feeling at the moment, you should show it.”

Tokiya takes a hand into his, the warmth of his hands transmitting to Otoya’s cold one. “I want to see the real Ittoki Otoya.”

His breath catches, his hand itches to flip itself over to hold Tokiya’s but it remains frozen, awkward.

“But...” he starts, but unsure of how to continue. His throat feels dry.

Tokiya doesn’t prompt him to continue, but simply waits, eyes still looking straight at him.

“W-What if... you don’t like the real me?”

Tokiya’s lips quirk up just a little, amusement in his gaze. “After all the stunts and worry you’ve caused me when you sleep? That would be difficult.”

Otoya makes a noise, indignant.

A chuckle. “You could try.” Then, he flips Otoya’s hand over and twines their fingers together.

He repeats, tone gentle. “I’d like to see it, Otoya.”

In the depths of the dark night, Otoya can’t help but think that Tokiya’s smile is like the sun.

Otoya squeezes his hand back.

#my fics #mine #lolis4laifu #stab me #utapri

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siliconwebx · 5 years

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Using Sensory Language and Metaphors to Boost Your Marketing’s Effectiveness

If you were a kid in 1994 or later, then you know what a rainbow tastes like: Skittles. It’s so simple, yet so memorable – Skittles come in a rainbow of colors and flavors. That’s it. One of the simplest metaphor examples, yet it’s stuck with us for over 20 years.

This is the power of metaphors. They create vivid, easy-to-recall images in your head, and they stay there without budging. As a marketing tool, this sticking potential is what every brand is after.

Metaphors 101

A metaphor is a figure of speech that has an implied comparison. Ideas that are not typically related are related to one another in order to make a point.

Metaphors are part of figurative (not literal) language. Figurative language is when common, ordinary or even boring statements are spiced up in engaging, creative and emotionally-appealing ways. They’re often exaggerated, but not for the purpose of being dramatic, just to make the point stronger.

6 Types of Metaphors

There are several different types of metaphors, and familiarizing yourself with them will help you choose the right one (and know which one not to choose – dead metaphor, I’m looking at you). Let’s explore six different types, along with a few metaphor examples.

There are many more types of metaphors that you can look into, but for the sake of this article, I’ve stuck with basic definitions of the metaphor types that will be most important to understand for marketing purposes.

1. Absolute Metaphors

Absolute metaphors are also called anti-metaphors or paralogical metaphors; they’re not easily understandable and are often confusing. “The old man was dead as a doornail” is an example of an absolute metaphor.

The problem with the absolute metaphor is that it’s not always simple enough. “Dead as a doornail” has been around for long enough that you know this means “very, super dead,” even if you have no clue what a doornail has to do with it. Other absolute metaphor examples are trickier to decode, though.

For example, if I say, “This vacation is a wave pool,” what do I mean? Is my vacation pretending it’s something it’s not – is there some type of falsity to it? Or is it bombarding me with problems every time I solve the last one? Or maybe I’m just spending a lot of time in a wave pool? You have no idea, which makes it a poor metaphor if you’re trying to get a point across.

2. Dead Metaphors

Dead metaphors have been overused so much they’re now cliche and not nearly as impactful as they once were (you’ll read a lot of them in this article as I give you examples). “The teenage girl was fishing for compliments” is an example of a dead metaphor.

3. Extended Metaphors

Shakespeare can provide numerous extended metaphor examples, like his “all the world’s a stage” metaphor in As You Like It (read it here) and when Juliet is compared to the sun in Romeo and Juliet. Extended metaphors are lengthy and create more complex comparisons than a basic metaphor.

For marketing purposes, you may want to stay away from this. Extended metaphors (and complex metaphors in general) are lengthy and you can easily lose your audience. Plus, it’s hard to recall what you were talking about in the first place once you’re seven innings deep in a sports metaphor.

4. Mixed Metaphors

Mixed metaphors combine two or more metaphors for comparison’s sake: “He broke my heart, but I’m back in the game and soon I’m sure it’ll be raining men.” Unless you’re doing this on purpose to be funny, steer clear of it.

5. Root Metaphors

Root metaphors are a pervasive part of a person’s viewpoint; they shape or express how a person innately feels. Some of them are dead metaphors, too. “Life is a journey” is an example of a root metaphor that’s also – depending on who you ask – a dead metaphor.

In marketing, you can create your own root metaphor for your brand and use it as a tagline or campaign slogan. This will be especially helpful if you have a cutting-edge product, nothing like anything anyone’s ever seen, that you need to explain in a way that people will relate to.

6. Sensory Metaphors

Sensory language describes an action or scene using words that connect to the senses – sight, sound, smell, taste or touch. The reader feels like they’re experiencing the scene firsthand, which makes it extra memorable. Sensory metaphors use sensory words to make the comparison. “Your voice is music to my ears” and “that surprise birthday present was the cherry on top” are sensory metaphor examples.

Metaphor: Not a Simile, Kind of an Analogy

Metaphors say that one thing is another thing. Your book is a snore.

A simile uses “as” or “like” to make the comparison. Your book is like a long nap.

An analogy makes comparisons on multiple levels. This is similar to an extended metaphor, but an analogy may use a combination of metaphor, similar and sensory language:

How do you perk up a boring book? Pay attention to the parts that are a snore. Action can wake the reader up, alert and ready for the next thing that happens.

How to Write Your Own Metaphors

Think about your personal interests or hobbies – it’ll be easier to make comparisons to topics you know inside-out. Do you like cooking, movies, music or sports? Come up with comparisons to cooking ingredients, movie genres, famous musicians or your sport-of-choice.

Not only will this clarify your comparison, but it’s a non-egotistical way to help your audience get to know you without coming straight out and saying “I like this” or “I hate this.” For example, if I said, “Freelance writing is a horror movie where every time you think you can take a break, another monster is waiting around the corner,” you know that (a) I’m a freelance writer and (b) I’m a movie fan.

P.S. If you’re developing a brand voice to use in your marketing, choose one or two hobbies to use for all of your metaphors. Make sure it’s something your audience will love. For example, the hosts of The Popcast, a pop culture podcast, use a lot of sports metaphors – it’s in-line with both pop culture and the hosts’ interests. (Knox also refers to people as a bologna sandwich when they’re boring.)

As you’re playing around with ideas and reading metaphor examples, jot down whatever comes to mind. It doesn’t matter if it’s lame, unclear or silly – great writing, especially when it comes to short, thought-provoking metaphors, often starts out messy and jumbled.

Visual Metaphors

Metaphors aren’t limited to text, especially if you have a creative graphic design team supporting you. Here are three visual metaphor examples:

Be Forewarned

There are “Truth in Advertising” guidelines that companies have to follow. Even if you think a metaphor is harmful, you could end up like Red Bull, having to clarify that the energy drink does not, in fact, cause you to grow wings.

Final Thoughts

Instead of over-using metaphors, pick and choose which ones you use and when you use them. If an idea or feeling will be better explained through a metaphor, or if you think that a metaphor will make a lighthearted situation more humorous, go for it. You can also A/B test emails and social media posts to see if the one with the metaphor or the one without gets better engagement.

Speaking of split testing, learn how to do this on your website with Divi.

The post Using Sensory Language and Metaphors to Boost Your Marketing’s Effectiveness appeared first on Elegant Themes Blog.

😉SiliconWebX | 🌐ElegantThemes

#Silicon Web Design #Ahmedabad #India #Web Development #WPBeginner #Silicon URL #Web Site #Cloud Host

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sending-the-message · 7 years

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Dreams are a Two-Way Window by TobiasWade

Infinity captured in an hourglass, turn it over and it begins again. That's what dreams are to me. I always romanticized dreams as a window into innumerable secret worlds and forbidden fantasies. It wasn't until I began lucid dreaming that I realized everytime I look out through the window, something else is looking back at me.

The concept of lucid dreaming fascinated me since I first learned about it in my psychology class. I couldn't even believe it was a real phenomenon at first; it seems more like a super power to me.

To create any world or situation with such vivid detail that I become God of my own personal universe. That must be too good to be true, but there it was. Printed clearly in my psychology textbook: a guide how to induce lucid dreams. I even made a photocopy in the library to hang above my bed as a constant reminder to follow these steps until I mastered the elusive and subtle art.

Step One: Reality Checks The textbook recommended I try to push a finger through my opposite hand at least ten times a day. This will habituate the motion and make it more likely for it to occur in my dreams. When I try the check in a dream, the finger is supposed to pass straight through my hand and prove it isn't real. The self-awareness that I'm dreaming is what triggers lucidity.

Step Two: Set an Early Alarm I set it for 2 hours earlier than I usually wake up. When the alarm sounded, my goal is to turn it off without opening my eyes to make the next transition smoother. This technique is called "wake induced lucid dreaming".

Step Three: Mindfulness After that I have to try and stay mentally awake while I let the rest of my body go back to sleep. This is known as sleep paralysis because my mind will be awake in a frozen body. It occurs because I've interrupted REM sleep where the dreams occur, prompting the body to return there as fast as possible.

It took a few days of practice before things started to click. At first I kept accidentally falling back asleep after my alarm rang. Soon I was able to maintain concentration, but then I started to see some basic colors and shapes, and I got so excited that I fully woke up. The longer I persisted though, the more real the images became.

Shapes morphed into forms and the dappled specks of light grew and twisted into rich tapestries of color. Sometimes it felt like an ordinary dream, but as I continued to practice I learned to prolong my focus until the imagery fully matured.

Less than a week had passed before I was reliably alert enough to perform my reality checks, and after that came absolute freedom. I began with enacting idle sexual fantasies, but the sheer possibility of exploration made it difficult for me to maintain attention on any one creation for long. My favorite dream to spin was where I stood in a dark room with a paint brush that transformed everything it touched. Mountains ripped through the ground and soared at my command, and a single stroke on my eternal canvas brought flocks of birds into flight. Crystalline caverns, riding dragons, alien encounters, and the entire cosmos stitched onto the back of my hand; I raced through my dreams with insatiable wonder and boundless delight.

And I kept getting better too. I invented a dozen more reality checks involving clocks, mirrors, counting fingers - anything to ensure I would always find a way to become aware. My worlds became more intricate, and I was able to cast distinct characters and plots to entertain me. It's not like this was the only thing going on in my life, but it was the best, and every night I couldn't wait to uncover the latest treasure in my mind.

That is, until I discovered I was being watched anyway. As my awareness became more defined I grew cognizant to certain elements in my dream which remained stubbornly beyond my control. It started off as a vague uneasiness which settled upon dreams like a gathering dusk of the spirit. I couldn't make out anything specifically wrong, but I can only describe the feeling as though I was a character in someone else's dream. All I had to do was tear down my canvas and begin again in a new dream though, and the feeling would be gone...

For a little while anyway. Each successive escape solidified the presence in my mind, and like an intrusive guilty thought it penetrated my next dream. I built castles only to find eyes I never conceived of watching me from cracks in the stone. A flight through the air went sour as the sun turned to watch my aerial maneuvers. On to an undersea adventure, but my paranoia amplified as an eel followed me relentlessly through the water. Reality checks confirmed my dream, but I couldn't banish these watchers. I could only hope to lose them by starting again, although each time they found me swifter than before.

I became so unnerved that I forced myself to wake up. I found myself in a cold sweat, panting in the cool morning air. The first step of my morning ritual was now a full range of reality checks. I allowed myself to relax as I passed each one. Just a bad dream, I told myself. I swatted the fly away which snuck in during the night and prepared myself for just another ordinary day. But once they've found you, the watchers will never let go.

I felt anxious all day; a source-less, gnawing feeling that made me keep checking over my shoulder. I second-guessed the motives of everyone who turned to look at me, and when my psychology professor asked me a question in class I straight-up froze. I had to try and push my finger through my palm, right in front of everyone, just to make sure. The warm pressure of skin against skin snapped me back to reality and I was able to mumble a cohesive enough answer for him to turn away. But if I wasn't dreaming, then why did his eyes swim through his skin so that they continued watching me after he had turned? Even with his back to me, I could still see them peeking out through his shaggy grey hair.

Growing awareness works the same way in this world as it does in dreams. As soon as I became aware of one discrepancy, I began to notice them all. The same fly which had been following me all day continued dancing orbits above my head. Passing gazes lingered on me longer than they used to, and always, always the eyes would return in the most unlikely places.

A dropped notebook on the floor opened to perfect sketch of an eye looking at me. A sip of coffee left the fleeting imprint of something staring at me from the foam. From knots in the trees to chips in the sidewalk, everything was an eye and all of them were directed at me.

I don't know whether it was a relief or a fresh terror that waited for me at home. Stepping into the bathroom, my reflection had completely disappeared. That was the first reality check to fail all day. At least if I was still dreaming then it meant I wasn't going crazy...

I couldn't will myself to wake up anymore though, no more than I could will myself not to see through open eyes. I tried throwing myself into bed, tossing fitfully until I at last slipped into an uneasy slumber. I was hoping that falling asleep in a dream would be enough to make me wake up for real, but it only threw me into a fresh absurdity of dreams that even my awareness could not tame.

Ghastly specters of thought whirled through a mind so saturated with fear that I lost track of right from left; of reality and fabrication. Lips began to accompany the eyes in more varied and tortured forms than my waking imagination could conjure. Faces pressed in around me as though struggling to break free from the suffocating cloth that my dream enveloped them in. More than being watched, I was terrified that they would start to speak to me. I don't know why, but just as I had bottled the divine spark of creation, I knew they now dreamed of me and that I would be slave to their slightest utterance.

Faster I spun, willing myself to wake but holding back for the horror of what I might find there. Through the dreams I raced, new ones forming before the searing lights of the last had even faded from my vision. Worlds collided together into maddening abstraction as men with fish-heads rode on horses across the clouds with lances of lightning. Through the clouds the faces pressed, withered lips peeling back to laugh and grunting in mockery of human speech. Endless possibilities are a double-edged sword. An eternity in Heaven is not the same length as an eternity in Hell.

At least now I know why they're watching. They're looking for a way out, just like you're looking for a way in. They've been doing this for much longer than you have, and whatever trick you think you know, you can count on them knowing it too. I know because for as long as I practiced and prepared myself while awake, I've spent many times over learning from the watchers in my sleep.

I'm awake now. For real this time (I think), although I run through my list of reality checks so compulsively that my palm is bloody and raw where the finger keeps pressing in. This isn't a warning against lucid dreaming though, however it may sound. I've seen how shrewdly the watchers hide, and know they were watching me long before I became aware of their existence. They might not reveal themselves to you before you become lucid, but that only means you can't protect yourself from them until it's too late.

Dreams are a two-way window, and if you aren't brave enough to stare down the face on the other side, then they can become a door as well.

#reddit #nosleep #scary #story

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