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#also i did the rendering on one layer (scary)

dadsbongos · 5 months

Text

carrie - s.geto

part of the jjk movie marathon event / movie selection

…

warnings - reader is fem core, and also not a very good person as it turns out, blood and gore, bullying, vague religious imagery, material emotional abuse (light), kinda rushed towards the end (i wanted to be done already lmao)

word count - 8.6 K / rating - PG-13

The dark doesn’t scare you much. Since you were little, the jitters everybody else described when their parents dared to shut their door for bedtime were simply lost on you. Suguru explained it to you once - the dark itself is not scary, it's the mystery of what's inside those shadowy pockets. Again, however, that dread is nowhere to be found in your beating chest.

Because you know what’s inside - you can see their twisted expressions and the vein-like sprawls of black tendrils. Their eyes that are impossibly sunken or painfully bulging. Teeth that clack and gums that suck and stick against one another. Limbs in plenty, or none at all, wrapped in paper skin that exposes every divot of bone, or sometimes fleshy and fat and full. You can see them, you do not fear the dark. And you do not fear any mysteries.

You fear the creatures that stare back.

Acknowledging them did not make them disappear. Ignoring them didn’t either. Telling your mother made her seek out ways to prove her spiritual devotion. You can’t - and refuse to - imagine sharing with your peers.

They would hardly lend an ear anyway.

You’ve done a good job enduring. Until you don’t.

Chin pressed to your chest, you curl both arms tight around yourself as you and your fellow students flood from the school gates. Your fingers pull tightly at your uniform sleeves as a pack of boys comes blaring past, shouting excitedly about whose house will be ransacked for the night. Your eyes track each crack in the pavement below you. The sun bounces violently into your eyes, stinging them. You clench your eyes, opening them again when your body collides with a bigger one.

Tilting your head up on instinct, the shock of it all renders your previous years of haunted, terrible figures utterly useless.

Your throat swells, gut hitching tightly. Your skin shreds up into millions of little bumps at the sudden cold.

Lumps twitch under midnight skin - piled together lazily like a child’s drawing of a bodybuilder. Two arms, two legs, and two eyes, a shaking humanoid mimicry that leans down to press its flat face closer to your stilled one. Sweat beads down your forehead despite the chill. Its plump lips stretch up, misaligned rows of jagged teeth on display. And it giggles down at you - wavering and layered with the reflection of little girls and teenagers and old men.

Finally, you break from your stunned state and stumble back. A wordless scream rips at your throat, both arms flying up in front of your face as if to guard it.

Little girls and old men laugh again, but this time the sound of teenagers has amplified.

Shakily, your arms fall into your lap and you look around as upper and underclassmen point and howl. Your lungs feel pressed, yet moments from popping at how you heave at the same time.

“What’s your problem?”

“Seeing things?"

“What the hell was that?!”

Your hands clap over your eyes again when the hulking mass of rippling bumps and muscles refuses to trample away.

“Go away!” you scream, “Go away, go away, go away!”

Two arms pull you into a warm chest, a hand petting your head over the heart beneath. The body rocks you as one would a baby, “How can you all be so callous! Someone get Principal Machigae! Now!”

“Hey,” you hear your name faintly, the hand on your head moving to wipe stray tears from your burning cheek, “It’s alright - you’re alright!”

The bigger body pries your hands down, and you peek an eye open to find the malformation gone.

Then you see them. The eyes that take form. That blink. Upper and underclassmen murmur amongst themselves. Their eyes cut across your body, serving the slices of meat up to one another to pick at. Tear away the skin and dig into your fat.

Your chest sputters, burrowing into your self-induced ball of safety and blocking out the whispers. The scraping of sharp knives across the silver platter. The stronger voice above you, trying to coax you from your chamber.

Into the back of your mind, you retreat. Big, colorful flowers that release no itchy pollen. Warm meals that soothe your soul. Suguru’s big hands holding yours so assuredly. Suguru’s sweet voice singing your name.

…

The chairs in Principal Machigae’s office are too squeaky for your liking. It isn’t even the pleather - which would cling to any given skin, were you not wearing tights - it’s the weak joints in each leg. Loose screws and old bones.

Your mother sits straight, legs crossed at the ankles and knees pressed together, beside you, “I don’t understand, she’s never displayed this type of behavior before.”

Her eyes slip to you. Nails burying into her handbag.

Your eyes are still glazed and wet, ears burning with the echoing laughter.

...

“She thinks I’m seeing devils,” you sigh, an arm thrown over your eyes as you lay in your bed - your other hand pressing your phone to your ear.

“You’re kidding…” Suguru has never liked your mother, “Why doesn’t she take you to a doctor?”

He wishes he could tell you everything. Puke up his guts and then some. But Shoko is staring him down, shaking her head.

“I dunno…” but you sound so distraught as you describe every mutated body you cross nowadays, “She thinks it’s all hocus pocus bullshit.”

“Hm? And seeing actual devils isn’t?” he snickers, pointedly looking away from Shoko.

Shoko has explained to him the same thing, in the same way, that Yaga has. Telling you the truth runs the risk of you telling others the truth in an attempt to end your torment. One that they each deeply understand, but cannot risk the incoming wrath of people with more authority than both of them combined.

“Right?!” you whisper the exclamation, and he can just imagine the way you twist on your bed. Rolling onto your stomach on your sheets, propping your head up with a hand, “It’s so… ugh!”

“You know you can always come out to Tokyo,” Suguru shoves Satoru away when the pale fool makes kissy noises at him, Shoko joining in soon after, “Stay with me. I’ll pay for it all.”

“No, no,” you like that he offers, “You’re coming home soon anyway, I’ll get you to myself then.”

“Soon isn’t soon enough,” he stands up from Shoko’s bed when his friends coo and clap, “Sorry, I have to beat up some idiots. Call you later?”

“Hm, I might just head to bed… try to sleep off whatever happened…”

It helps that you can’t think of another better way to spend your time.

Suguru bids you his final goodbyes before you hang up. He clicks his phone shut and bats a fist hard into Satoru’s shoulder, then huffs and rolls his eyes over Shoko’s teasing.

Those next days leading up to Suguru’s return are no easier than the days before.

Your daily schedule has manifested into something completely new. Rotten and putrid flesh bleeding over into normalcy.

In the morning before school, you pray at your mother’s feet. At school, you take longer routes from class to cafeteria to home to avoid as many people as possible. The people you cannot avoid scream in your face - crying for you to go away in the way you did that monster. You scrub black marker from your desk after school and pretend to not be able to recall every dirty name scrawled over the wood. At home, you pray again before doing homework and calling Suguru. When Suguru has to hang up, you go to sleep.

And you do the very same thing the next day.

And the next.

And on Saturday, before going with the Geto family to pick up Suguru - your mother shoves you to your knees at her feet and forces more prayers from your quivering lips.

In the car, Suguru surprises you - declaring that he’d like to stay with you tonight.

His parents seem uneasy at the suggestion before giving in. They’re less comfortable with you now than they used to be.

Suguru is allowed in your room, but your mother very firmly states that he’s to sleep in the guest room down the hall.

Something Suguru has grown increasingly fond of since being sent to Jujutsu Tech is physical contact. Coddling you to his broad chest and feeling the thrum of your blood beneath your skin. Switching positions and hearing your heart still beating. He told you once that it was hard to ground himself at school - that the dwindling class numbers and surrounding forest were driving him crazy. It doesn't hurt that you don’t mind the additional heat swarming you in his arms.

“Sorry I’m so boring,” he’s quiet, but light with humor, “right when I get here.”

“‘s fine,” you burrow into his chest. He’s oddly filled out since going to Tokyo. Bigger and bulkier, “I like this.”

Suguru breathes deeply, your head lifting in time with the smooth motion. If you were to slide your head up and glance at him, you’d see the gentle smile on his face, “I do, too.”

He’s a lot clingier now. Calls you every day and texts you at odd hours. As if you may disappear without him ever knowing. He’s desperate to know you still exist.

Another big breath warns you that he’ll start talking again, “I meant it. You can stay with me in Tokyo,” this time you do slide your head up to look at him, but he’s already staring down at you. Thick eyelashes gently bat at his cheeks, dark obsidian eyes so warm on you, “I’ll make it happen.”

You snort, curling the arm settled on his chest around his waist and squeezing, “Yeah? What if your principal kicks me out?”

Stubbornly, he shakes his head, bangs falling across his forehead, “I wouldn’t let him.”

“Oh? You have that much influence?”

“Mhm,” he smiles thinly, always so certain of himself, “You’d be surprised.”

Suguru has never really liked your mother. He thinks she does a rotten job of loving you.

You don’t like the air conditioning in Counselor Haiboku’s office. It rattles obnoxiously and spits freezing air that not even the long sleeves of your uniform can combat.

She clears her throat, wiry glasses slipping a little down the bridge of her nose, “So, what I can do is recommend a therapist through a third party,” her voice is tinny and strained, as she's at a consultation desk rather than a school, “We can organize it so that you’ll be able to meet in my office, likely during your gym block.”

“My mom probably wouldn’t like that…” you know what you hope she’ll do with that information.

“Hm,” she hums, head tilting and hands scrambling to even a stack of papers against the surface of her desk, “I can scout a professional preemptively, and all she’ll have to do is sign to acknowledge that you’re meeting.”

Before she could even finish speaking, you’re already shaking your head, “My mom definitely won’t sign.”

You know what you want her to ask. You know how you would respond. You just don’t know how much more you’ll have to say before she finally asks.

Are you okay at home?

Instead, she sighs with a forced grin, shaking her own head, “Don’t give up hope. She seems harsh, but your mother loves you. Try bringing it up and we’ll discuss it further.”

What else you don’t know - is if you respond to that.

It seemed like a blur with the way your gut swirled and head pounded. Heart squished down to your feet. The organ splurted wetly against the floors with every step back to your gym block.

Once you arrived, after dragging yourself through changing into your uniform, the other girls had no interest in letting you join their teams. They usually don’t, though. And this time, Coach Teru permits you to find a solitary activity.

It’s reassuring, at least, to know that not all teachers are blind to the goings of students.

By the end of the hour, as with every day for gym, you and the other girls are piled into the showers. Eyes darting away to the tiled walls and floors and arms fastened around belly pouches and plump thighs as those parts of you all are unnatural. A blobby, juniper green thing with arms that shiver with each stretch lingers around flustered girls trying to cinch the flimsy curtains closed. Short, stubby legs let it slowly wobble between each uncomfortable body.

You’re trying to hurry through every automatic motion, scrubbing the soap from your locker into your skin like it could wash away the slimy feeling this spirit leaves behind. Eyes clenched shut and head perfectly straight. Water drips over your face, pooling around your cupid’s bow.

Quick fingers sink soap into your thigh before the bar slips from your grasp. And for a moment, your immediate instinct is to deny that it even fell. Until that dull thunk hits your ears, you are in blissful ignorance of your terrible mistake.

Frostbitten bitemarks tingle up your shaking thighs, sharp points threatening to break the skin. You can feel pudge press against the rounded base of your stomach, slithering arms jiggling around your waist.

“Look away…!” it’s squawky voice cries, teeth scraping against your soft flesh, “Look away…!”

“Stop it!” you welch, hands slamming over your ears and body tucking out from under the water and sliding against the wet wall until your bottom meets the ground, “Stop, stop, stop!”

A distinctly girlish, throaty groan rises from the stall in front of you, your eyes peeling wide in time to catch her peeking over the separating board. But most of your attention is on the limping, wobbling devil in front of you. It reaches out with long, unbalanced arms and razor-sharp nails that clack together. Its own eyes are popping out from its face, staring at you despite its pleas for you to divert your attention.

“What’s your problem?” the girl asks, sneering. You fail to reply, hands tightening around your ears and legs pressing against your chest, “What? Got your period?”

Chest heaving and broken whimpers leaving your lips, you merely drag your stare down to the tile by your bent legs.

“Oh my God…” the same girl looks out at the audience she’s conjured. Shrugging at each questioning face.

“Her batshit mom didn’t say anything,” another girl snickers, reaching into her bag and plucking out a tampon before tossing it at your aghast face. Laughing when you flinch away.

A third pops up behind her friend, long black hair flowing behind her as she creeps towards your stall. She maneuvers her hand back behind the steel shower head and angles it back towards you. More girls have gathered, some towards the back and some eagerly shoving their way to the front. The girl with black hair laughs with more twisted intent than the devil before you as she sprays you with water, twisting the temperature knob to icy cold.

“Still wanna keep clean, ya know?” you tuck your head between your knees, squealing as the chilling water hits your bare skin. Your hands slide against the tile as you try moving out from under the flow, “Don’t wanna get any sicker than you already are!”

A new chill breaks across the skin of your shins, ripping down - “Look away! Look away!”

“Stop it!” you screech, kicking out against the curse. It flies back and a new ring of laughter escapes most of the gathering girls, “No, no!”

“Ah- !” a scream, then the harsh thud of a back meeting the wall, and the water stops.

A warm body scoops you close. Coach Teru’s voice breaks out across the locker room, “How could you all stand there?!” she presses you close as your shivering gets worse, “You should all be ashamed of yourselves,” you are, you know that, “All of your parents will be hearing about this, and I hope you all expect big punishments!”

“Hey…” a girl from the middle of the crowd steps forward, “She’s not even bleeding…”

Instantly, your legs seal back to your chest.

“She’s really as crazy as her mom!”

Your eyes weakly peel open, catching the curious gaze of the uncanny thing before you. Its arms are loopy at its sides, its whole body tilting to the side on untrained feet. You sniffle, trying to wipe away the building tears but only smearing more water across your face, “Help me…”

Its watching eyes go eggshell white. One of its arms unlatches from the floor and flings up into one of the lightbulbs above you. Breaking the light and casting shadows across your naked form as the girls scream. The dark is momentary relief, knowing that the crowd is no longer as focused on you as they were.

...

Suguru bursts into Counselor Haiboku’s office seconds before your mother does. His large hands gently pet over your shoulders, eyes scrambling over your body as if assessing damage. Your mother loudly demands information from Haiboku - what have you done, where were you, why was she called from work - as Suguru helps you to stand.

You’re rattled, undeniably. But you’re grateful, too. For that spirit.

Not soon enough, you’re in the backseat with Suguru. He still holds you, as if he’d almost lost you, as if you're precious. It’s funny, in a way.

“What even happened?” your mother cuts you off prematurely with a scoff, “I know what happened - you and your devils. Your devils,” she murmurs, “Pray as soon as we get home. You’re getting worse.”

You nod listlessly, “Yes, Mother.”

Suguru grunts, deep in the back of his throat in protest. Despite being sent to a private religious school, you don’t know him to be a pious man at all. He goes to speak out, but you clasp your hand over his and subtly shake your head.

He wants to tell you everything. It physically sickens him, he gets so nauseous that he can barely keep down anything he eats. Or perhaps that is because he knows where your mother hides you away when she demands that you pray. A cramped closet with low, exposed candles and creeping spiders in each corner.

The next morning, you realize the girl with black hair is Rinko Ayashi. A girl you remember from junior high. She never seemed to like you, but you didn’t care for her either.

Also that next morning, you’re bidding Suguru a final farewell before leaving for school. His hugs dawdle, soaking up what remaining time he has before his parents take him back to the train for Tokyo. He reminds you once again - I’ll make it happen - before watching you begin your trek to school, a heavy sickness resonating through his whole body.

You can sense this creature faintly before you see it. A bulbous head and teeny, gossamer thin wings with a yellow little body. Insect-like. Almost cute. It doesn’t fly too close nor does it make you uncomfortable.

Two passing boys reach out to yank your hair and call you creepy for staring off.

Just as you begin to wilt, this insect-like spirit flies closer. It pauses just short of landing on your shoulder until you bump the muscle and nod for it to flutter down.

“C’mere.”

The creature’s eyes sheen in flat white before daintily positioning itself on your shoulder. The added weight is comforting, somewhat. Like the strong hand of a parent, guiding their youngest child to their class.

...

By the time you reach your gym block, your new friend is still clinging to your padded uniform shoulder.

Coach Teru intercepts your approach, but you can still spot the glares over her shoulder. She tells you not to worry. That the girls are only bitter over consequences of their actions - stripped privileges of attending the school festival. She moves aside, and you creep into the gymnasium. It smells strongly of lemon and raw chemicals. You prefer that to the maliciousness that rolls off your peers in thick curds.

Rinko lurches forward sharply, letting out a growly yelp in your face before huffing, “I wish I could make you bleed for real.”

Teru overhears, naturally, “Hey! Ayashi, thirty minutes after cleaning - you’re in here doing laps.”

Rinko glares at you again.

“Come on!” Teru calls out across the room, “Let’s get changed and start class!”

The spirit on your shoulder nuzzles into your cheek, pushing against the downturn of your lips and humming lowly. On your other shoulder, a soft, lithe hand lands. You follow the polished pink nails up, climbing along the long, black uniform sleeve, and finally to the flustered, red face.

Yonaka Hokori - Rinko’s former best friend - her bottom lip tucked between her teeth, her hand draws back and she lowers her head, “I’m really sorry,” her voice wobbles, arms trembling, “You shouldn’t have been treated that way by me and the others. It was nothing but evil!”

“No, it’s…” you press your lips, fingers knotting together. Your shoulders bow, eyes flitting from Yonaka’s face to your shoes, “I’m sorry you can’t go to the festival anymore…”

“What? No way!” Yonaka has curled hair that bounces with her movements, she insists it’s inherited from her mother, but nobody knows for sure, “You should be able to enjoy it without us being there to remind you of… well. You know.”

Yonaka is just as bouncy as her hair. Big smiles that show off her pearly teeth.

“I dunno,” you scratch your elbow even though there is no itch. The spirit pulls back, now hanging off your hair like a monkey to vines, “It isn’t like I have someone to go with…” Yonaka walks with you to the locker room, her round face tilting curiously, “My only friend just went back to Tokyo, I’d feel bad asking him to make the trip again.”

Rinko’s melodic laugh rings through the space, a wobbly green thing peers around the corner leading to the showers, “Doubt you have a friend out in Tokyo. Much less a him.”

You fold your arms and Yonaka’s lashes narrow at the girl, “I do, too. It’s Suguru.”

Again, she laughs. Nose wrinkling in a snarl, “No chance. Geto was too cool for you, the only reason he was nice to you was ‘cuz your moms were friends,” her brown eyes scrawl lazily from your feet to your face, “Emphasis on ‘were’, since your mom’s gone off the deep end nobody wants to be her friend anymore,” she grins suddenly, “Just like you.”

Your body snaps around, rushing out of the metal doorway and towards the closest bathrooms. The insect pulls closer, bitty hands clinging to the warm skin of your embarrassed face. It’s cold skin cooling you.

In the changing room, Yonaka’s raspy voice is cracking out harshly as she yells, “What is wrong with you?!”

“What?” Rinko rolls her eyes, “It’s what she gets for trying to attract so much attention. She wants it until she can’t handle it - that’s not my problem. Nutjob’s been like this since junior high.”

Yonaka rolls her eyes and scrounges for her phone, pushing all the way to her boyfriend’s contact, and digging out each character. Normally, she’d skirt the long process of texting via notes or verbal passage, but this is urgent.

we need to talk. don’t freak out i’m not breaking up with you.

…

“She obviously needs more friends than this ‘Geto’ guy.”

“It just won’t be the same if I’m not going with you…”

“You’re so sappy. Now use that to make her feel better, hm?”

…

Suguru is very warm. His body runs hot naturally. And he's very level-headed and mellow, like gentle sunshine. He likes to care for others, to uplift and blow away the dust. He’s been that way since you were both little. Does he use that kind soul just to placate your loneliness?

Another, practically identical, insect-like spirit comes to your other shoulder. Its hands scrape against your lower lids, desperately cupping the tears that fall from your lashes.

When you want it the least, a new presence descends upon you. A cheery voice, and you find it to be Yonaka’s introverted boyfriend.

“So, I heard that you don’t have anyone to go to the festival with,” he starts, dodging your stare entirely, “And since I’m already out of a date, I figured that we should go together.”

You wonder if he knows your name. And if he does, then is it only because of his girlfriend? Or did he notice you before?

Did he pity you?

Did he think about stepping up?

Did he think about joining in?

“Did Hokori put you up to this?” you ask.

At the mention of his girlfriend, the boy lights up. His cheeks flush and his whole body straightens up, as if she may appear at any moment, “Honestly, yes - but! It could be fun to get to know each other.”

You kick the toe of your shoe down into the ground, looking at the impact in the dirt, “It’ll be social suicide.”

“I don’t care,” he scratches the side of his nose, “It’s just high school.”

The sound of a giggle surprises you, what surprises you more is that it’s your mouth the sound comes from. Both spirits are startled away, buzzing off into the distance. And you hardly notice.

“Yeah,” you lock your hands behind your back, suddenly bashful under this foreign attention, “Okay. That could be fun.”

Thumb hovering over the call button, you breathe in deeply before committing. It rings once. Twice. Three times.

Four.

Five…

It rings until you hear the robotic woman on the other end, “The number you have dialed- “

You hang up before the message can start. You redial Suguru’s number.

It rings once. Twice. Three times.

You hang up just as the woman starts speaking again.

”The number you have dialed- “

With nothing to placate this loneliness, you turn over in your sheets and let slumber snatch you away as the sun begins to sink below the mountains.

You’re startled out of bed by the techno ringing of Pac-man’s main theme. Throwing your sheets off, your hand beats around your nightstand to (eventually) find the source of the sudden noise. You silence it by accepting the call before you can see who’s name - or number - was printed across the screen.

“Hello?” your voice is dry, cracking towards the end - and subconsciously, you reach out for the water bottle sitting at the edge of your stand.

“Hey, sorry…” it’s Suguru, he sounds drowsy, words lilting and slurring on the edge of sleep, “I saw you called and didn’t wanna sleep until I made sure you were okay.”

“Aw,” how could someone so tender be so willing to be around you, “I’m fine, Sugu, just missed you…”

A humiliating admission, you fear.

But Suguru would never want to humiliate you.

“I missed you, too,” you can hear his bed creak on the other end of the line, he groans faintly as his sore muscles settle in the new position, “Satoru and I have this new project - it’s been keeping us busy,” you know of Satoru, you used to get so jealous at the prospect of him stealing away Suguru’s attention - but Suguru was always quick to assure you that he preferred your company, “We were tied up all day and then I passed out as soon as we got back to- “ he clears his throat, “our dorms. Ah, shit, it’s late. You were sleeping.”

You must be on some humored roll today because you’re giggling again, looking down at the blaring crimson numbers scorching your eyes. Quarter past midnight.

“I’d rather talk to you than keep sleeping,” you admit, and it’d be so much more shameful if it were to anyone but Suguru.

“Better not be sleeping in class tomorrow ‘cause of me, your mother’ll kill me,” he groans quietly and the bed creaks again as he tries getting comfortable, “How has she been since I left? Any better?”

And from anyone but Suguru, that could be misconstrued as concern for her but you know better. He’s worried about you because it’s you that’s important to him. He cares. You don’t remember why you thought otherwise.

“If things are getting to be too much,” he continues when you’re quiet for too long, “Just let me know. I’ll - I’ll make them better.”

“Hm? And drag me to Tokyo?”

“Maybe. If you’d like. Or I could stay down there.”

You’d never ask that of him, but he’d still do it anyway.

“Don’t worry about any of that,” you lay back down, pulling your blankets back over your body, “I actually might be making a friend. And someone wants to go to the school festival with me.”

“What?” you can practically see the playful pout on his lips, “Didn’t wanna go with me, huh?”

“I would’ve felt bad keeping you here! Especially when you’ve got exciting projects in Tokyo.”

“None of that even matters compared to how much I like being with you,” he says very seriously. You’re tempted to ask what has him so sentimental tonight.

But you don’t, mostly because the words are trapped in your chest. Right next to your thundering heart, all words and thoughts rattle around - clawing to get out all at once. Eventually, the ones that escape are, “I like being with you, too.”

It’s still. Both of you are in bed. One of you lying about where. Suguru doesn’t want to think about what a bad omen it may be that he’s flirting with you while lying about many facets of his life. You don’t think Suguru could be capable of such lies.

So when he easily insinuates that he’s still at school in Tokyo rather than a hotel in Okinawa babysitting a junior high student, you are none the wiser.

“It would’ve been fun,” he begins again, “We don’t do any festivals here. Just the exchange event and that’s…” he groans heartily and you laugh, “I don’t like the Kyoto students.”

“Well, there’s always next time!” you offer, curling your warm blankets tighter around your body, “I’ll make sure you can come to the next one.”

Suguru doesn’t consider the logistics of how a relationship would work out with you when he’s kept a large portion of his life hidden. But he knows you well, takes pride in it, and he knows you won’t turn your back on him when he does come clean. At some point, Yaga won’t be able to argue against his decision to tell you.

“Can it be a date?”

You turn your head and press your mouth into your pillow before letting out a girlish squeal. Returning to the conversation, you nod even though he can’t see it, “That would be fun!” your heart hurts, it’s pounding so hard, “I hope you don’t plan on making me wait that long for a first date, though.”

He sounds tired as he speaks, but you know he means what he says, “No way - you’re too special.”

For the first time in a long time, you’re dreading going back to sleep. You don’t think you even could right now - body too electrified with excitement.

“Have you seen more of those devils?”

“They don’t feel like devils,” you don’t want to see how your mother looks at you, “They don’t feel evil.”

You don’t need to see how your mother looks at you. You already know she’s horrified. Especially when she fists a chunk of your hair and begins dragging you toward the rickety closet with her altar in it. She’s muttering to herself, eyes darting around the kitchen as if to find one of the creatures that has apparently possessed you.

“Mom!” you claw at her hand, caught between wanting to free yourself and still being too terrified to cause her real damage, “I’m fine! Really! It isn’t- I’m not evil!”

“You’ve changed,” her bug-eyed stare comes down to you through the side of her eyes, “You are not my little girl,” she yanks your hair hard like she’s trying to pull it out, “Not my little girl anymore.”

She pulls again. Harder.

So hard you briefly consider that she might’ve tugged skin straight off your skull.

On the creaky stairs that lead up to your room, creeps down another spirit. It rolls like melty, red Jell-O with a massive eye rotating on the axis. You reach out with one hand while still trying to pry your mother’s hand from your hair. Your feet slip against the linoleum floor, your scalp burning under your mother’s hand.

“Help me!” you whine, your mother pulls harder, you sniffle and claw out for the mushy spirit, “Please, help me!”

Its eye washes over with a milky hue, body jiggling down the stairs rapidly and bowling right into your mother’s legs. She scrambles back, hands now trembling as though you’d been the one to deal the blow. You feel something surging through the tunnels of your veins. A vat of frozen water poured over the sludge clogging your pores. Washing away muck and leaving behind only chills of rejuvenation.

Your mother’s frame withers beneath your gaze. She holds up her hands, clasping them together and murmuring against the shaking appendages. You don’t know who she’s praying to, who she’s asking for forgiveness - it makes you feel something that scares you just a little.

“You won’t mistreat me anymore,” you swallow the lump in your throat, “I’m excited to be happy, and to live! And I won’t let you ruin it!”

She only continues her prayers. You hear your name faintly.

The curse slithers up your body, licking away the salty tears that’ve begun dripping down your face.

“And I’m going to the festival… And you can’t stop me.”

Her eyes clenched shut, lips moving faster against her hands.

You sniffle and the spirit slurps faster at your leaking tears.

“I was planning on taking Yonaka to this one,” the girl's boyfriend - Aoto, you learned - admits shyly, pulling the classroom door open for you, “But I think it’d be a shame to waste.”

“Ah!” you glare over at Aoto lightly, “You should’ve told me we were coming here, I would’ve worn something nice!”

“You are wearing something nice,” he shrugs, “Besides, it isn’t like I’m exactly dolled up.”

It’s corny, undoubtedly, but you can’t help but admire the pink and purple decor. Color-shifting lights and shimmering streamers tacked to the ceiling. White balloons litter the floor and float aimlessly against the ceiling. The hosting students are easy to spot, decked in flowy or poofy ball gowns and sleek tuxedos.

Some other students with previous insight into this exact event are similarly dressed up. Pins and sparkles and stained lips.

Modeled after a cinematic, inauthentic, American prom.

A cold waft of air brushes your back. Two spirits wander in with a third limping in behind them.

Aoto takes your hand and guides you through the crowded classroom until you meet the dance floor; keeping his hands politely on your waist and yours on his shoulders. It’s ridged and you can tell he’d much prefer to have his girlfriend’s head tucked against his chest and under his chin. But that’s okay, you’d rather have Suguru’s hands explore the dips and curves of your waist. You close your eyes and pick yourself up, placing yourself back down in a different world.

One where it is Suguru. His hair is down, inky strands gliding along his shoulders. His hands are tugging you closer and he simply laughs when you accidentally step on the toe of his shoe.

“I know we aren’t close or anything, but I have had a nice time.”

You grin, eyes opening, “I did, too.”

“Yonaka, uh, wanted me to ask you something.”

“Yeah?”

“Would you want to go with us- ”

He’s abruptly stopped when the music pauses, both of your heads snapping towards the front of the room.

More spirits are piling into the room, stomping over one another and clawing each other’s flesh as they race into the space.

Two boys struggle to pull the door shut as a final, boarish creature squeezes inside. The door slams loudly and your attention is drawn there before you feel Aoto tense completely against you - his breath hitches and he curses quietly. Slowly, with dread filling your stomach, you look back to the front of the makeshift dance hall.

“Let’s go,” Aoto tries tugging you away, but you remain frozen.

You want to see her as you saw your mother. On the floor and wavering. Asking for forgiveness. You want to feel that scary feeling again. You want Rinko to regret sneaking into school tonight.

The two boys that shut the door now bind Aoto by his arms, Rinko makes a show of your presence. Pointing you out, grinning snidely, “Aren’t you so brave? Coming out tonight when nobody likes you,” many eyes linger, human and spirit, they burn you, “And I think you need a reward. Like a real dance, we need a queen, don’t you think?”

The eyes all feel malicious. Even the creatures only you can see, their gaze feels just as evil as it previously had. Their gaze feels like that of devils.

“You’re not usually so cleaned up, though,” she reaches out and drags you forward, and now you’re not so certain, “I’m more used to you like this.”

Cold water sloshes down your back, gasps retching through the room’s collective chests. Your clothes slick down against your body and chills course up your flesh. Feet patter away from behind you, and a new body approaches from the front. He heaves a bucket up by his shoulder.

The eyes are unblinking.

The abyss stares back.

And you are afraid.

“No, if we really wanted to relive that fantasy then maybe you should actually be bleeding this time.”

The bucket in the boy’s hands tips, and vile red pools to the metal lip before flying out. Red sticks over your skin, plastering your clothes to your body, it drips down your face with grotesque slowness. If you weren’t sure that it’d slip onto your tongue, you’d be screaming. But you can already taste the iron. What you don’t taste, stings your nostrils.

You see that Aoto is released, but you don’t feel relieved. He rushes over to you, ungracefully crashing on his knees at your side. His hands catch yours as they fruitlessly attempt to scratch off the blood - you hadn’t realized you were even doing that. You don’t realize when people begin crowding around you either.

Aoto rips off his jacket to wipe off as much blood from your face as possible. He’s speaking, fast and breathless, and you have no idea what he’s saying. Your ears are ringing. You look at the forming group. Some are smiling. Some are frowning. Some are stuck in the middle. Every devil giggles, though. Loudly,

The door squeaks open, and whoever planned on entering slithers back out when they spot your predicament.

Your devils follow your command, but they will not help. Your peers will not help. Your mother will not help. You are alone in the dark room, and your fear fades. You control the things that stare back from the shadows, you don’t have to be afraid.

Aoto tries to assist you in walking away, his hands are soft and his jacket is left on the ground. Stained in blood. You shove his hands away and look at Rinko, she laughs. Her friends laugh. Aoto is still speaking, but the ringing has yet to stop.

Rinko’s pin-straight hair shines under the dim lighting. You hate her.

“Just wanna…” your voice croaks, Aoto leans closer as if you’re talking to him, “get rid of her…”

The spirits’ giggles abruptly end. Eyes flashing over milky white.

Lightbulbs shatter from behind colored veneer and the emergency red lights flash on. Every body is painted in crimson. You watch Rinko. The ringing grows. She looks up, wide-eyed at the lights. The ringing grows. A stiff, rectangular body with a banging, metallic jaw steps forward. The ringing grows.

The rectangular devil swings its jaw open and practically inhales the top half of Rinko’s body as she screams. The misaligned mouth swings shut with a loud clang and her screaming is cut off. Her body’s bottom half - a quarter of her pelvis and both legs - fall uselessly to the ground in a bloody heap. Stringy, choppy ends of muscle spread over the ground.

Aoto stiffens beside you, his hands tighten around you and he tries yanking you towards the door, “We have to get out - oh, God- what? What was that? What was that?!”

Teenagers sound like squealing pigs as they scream. You hear the classroom door’s hinges squawk and turn towards the sound. The boy that’d dumped blood on you is trying to escape.

“Get rid of them all…” you mutter. Catching Aoto’s attention.

The door snaps shut, a brutish, pear-shaped devil responsible. The peachy flesh monster pushes and pushes and pushes, uncaring that the boy is trying to drag himself through the squeezing doorway.

The boy’s head pops, body slumping against the jammed door. Pigs squeal as they’re locked inside the pen.

“Are you- no,” Aoto sounds winded, air unable to get to his lungs, “Are you doing- ? Are you doing this?”

Claws shred clothes and raw meat. Teeth gnash and tear. Blood falls to the floor from bodies that aren’t yours.

“Would you have helped me?” you don’t look at Aoto, voice frail and dry, “If Hokori hadn’t made you, would you have helped me?”

His mouth opens and closes. Like a fish to be gutted. His chest rapidly moves with his hyperventilating. He reaches out for you, but you’ve stepped back. He sees a girl have her legs twisted like putty over your shoulder, and he runs to the door.

The peachy spirit stands guard, roughly slapping Aoto away. His body flies into a table and he stays down. You look up at the creature and he clears your path before slamming the door shut behind you. You trail blood into the hall, looking out at the gathering student body in the narrow space. Teachers are at the frays.

Wet, strained eyes of devils watch from every corner.

The ringing has subsided. You can hear the screams behind you more clearly now.

And you can hear yourself as you tell the devils, “Make them bleed.”

Fly-like devils swarm to your sides. They suck up the blood still clinging to you. You collect more as you wander out of the school.

You pass Coach Teru. Her body is pinned to the wall by a lanky devil with sagging, baggy skin - like a deflated beach ball stretched around a stick. Her chest only lets out wheezy little whines. You could free her, but then once the euphoria of having a savior wavers, she will realize what you are. The very devil-conduit freak your mother and peers feared. She will hate you just as much. So you walk away as she is crushed, desperately flinging out weak cries of your name.

Real flies join the buzz around your bloodied form as you walk home.

…

As you watch blood mix into water and flow down the shower drain, you hear your bathroom door creak open. A shadow casts over the white shower curtain. Your mother attracts the fly devils. They tangle in her hair and lap at her face with long tongues.

You can see her hands tremble. The shape of something angular and sharp rests in her grasp. It means nothing well.

You want for your mother to sweep you into her arms. To cradle you and promise better days. To seek help for you that does not come with scorching candles and splintered knees in a cramped closet. Yet, you already know you cannot have that. You wonder if maybe in a different world, you could have. If maybe there is another version of you that isn’t plagued by visions of evil and has normal breakfasts with a family that loves you.

You wonder. You will never know.

“Get rid of her,” you command coldly.

The flies flock around her throat, laying pressure from all sides. They’re weak individually, but en masse, they manage to pry the oxygen from your mother’s lungs. Strip away the cruel beat of her heart.

Her knife clatters to the ground, body thumping to the ground soon after.

It hasn’t hit you yet as you towel off and change post-shower, what you’re going to do about the carnage left in your wake. But returning one of Suguru’s many, many missed calls seems like a good first step. It rings once.

Then his voice, weaker and shakier than you’re used to, “I’ve done something bad,” he sucks in a sharp breath, “Terrible.”

You’re snapped from whatever sinister haze had taken over you. Suguru’s confession rouses the warmth of your chest, you clutch the phone tightly to your ear, “I have, too.”

If you try hard enough, you can still smell the iron in the hallway. And you can still hear the screams of boys and girls and mothers and fathers and lovers and friends. You sniffle, the memories burn your eyes, “I- Sugu…” you really have done something unbearable, haven’t you?

Your mother’s body will be cold by morning.

“I killed them,” you gasp, hoping to feel the air fill your lungs - you don’t, “I killed them all…!”

And the scariest thing about it, is you don't know if you even regret it.

Suguru is warm and kind, you know this hopelessly. You’re reminded now because he pushes aside whatever sin he’s borne tonight to ease your breathing. His voice is gentle as he coaxes you into calmer breaths. Only then, does he continue, “What happened? You killed people?”

“I- “ he doesn’t sound afraid, that should alarm you but it doesn’t, “They hurt me, Sugu. I couldn’t- I can’t- I just wanted them dead. I wanted them all gone and I made the devils- “

Suguru cuts you off abruptly, “Curses.”

“What?”

“You’re a sorcerer, too,” he hums quietly, “That’s good…” you’re tempted to ask, but he’s already speaking again, “I killed a village; burned them all… they were hurting children. Two girls,” he groans, sharp and throaty, “Locked them in a cage- they weren’t eating. They’re all bruised.”

“Sugu,” you trust that he’s done right by the girls because that’s simply who he is, “can I see you?”

“Yes, yes,” you hear rustling, his words rushed like he’d forgotten something, “Pack light. Hide in my room. God, God…” he starts murmuring and you aren’t sure you’re supposed to be hearing what he says now, “If the higher-ups don’t know yet then they will soon. A whole school… yeah, they’ll know by morning for sure.”

He sounds frantic. You’re sure if you could see him now he would look even worse.

“Will you be here soon?” you’re realizing you don’t know where he is. You look back and wonder if he’d truly been in Tokyo this whole time like he said.

“Fast as I can,” he turns away from the receiver to call out to an unseen company. The girls, you figure, “Don’t see my parents. Just climb through the window like you used to.”

You want to ask. The question digs into the meat of your bottom lip. You hang up instead.

You’re unable to sleep. Hyper on the paranoia that someone will find you. That Suguru’s sleeping parents will spontaneously awake and creep into their son’s old room. That police officers will kick the door down and take you away. That God Himself will smite you.

The sun barely peeks over the mountains when Suguru sneaks into his old room. A faint thud echoes from his parent’s room followed by the squeak of a mattress. He pays it no mind, cupping your cheeks and tilting your head to inspect for marks. He’s gentle with you.

“Why didn’t you tell me about this? About any of this?”

Suguru pulls back, melancholy eats at the skin of his face, “I wanted to, but nobody above me would budge,” his shaky hands find yours, he exhales and the shaking eases, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I couldn’t get my teacher in trouble, and I didn’t want you to be a part of this if I could help it,” he looks down at your locked hands, “I just wanted you to be happy, away from curses... I love you,” he says it so plainly, unashamed and with no embarrassment, “I love you so much, I can’t bear the idea of you getting hurt by these curses. And I ended up letting you get hurt by these monkeys.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Sugu,” you lean forward, pressing a kiss to his cheek and hoping it soothes his aching chest, “Not your fault at all.”

He smiles softly, standing and bringing you up with him. His hands are wound tightly around yours and he takes the moment to look at you; he hated how upset you sounded last night. How tearful you were over the bloodshed of people that tormented you. How terrible that sound was, “We should go. We’re both in trouble with some powerful people right now.”

Your shoulders droop at the thought, eyes widening, “More powerful than you?”

You know nothing of the sorcery world that Suguru hails from, but you know that he would be discontent being low on the totem pole.

“No,” he hums, “Well, one. But he’s not a concern,” he grabs the bag you’d packed last night and throws it over his shoulder, “There’s lots of work I have to do if I want to change this world. And I want you with me.”

There’s nearly an endless amount of work to be done if Suguru wants to change the world that ousted and hurt you. Hurt Nanako and Mimiko. Hurt Riko. Hurt Satoru. But he’s a Special Grade, capable of raising a cursed army to wipe out the parasites that feed off his loved ones. He’s certain that, if you’re willing to share, you could raise an army, too.

You nod excitedly, turning towards his bedroom door until Suguru clears his throat.

He shakes his head, bangs falling over his pale, weary face, “That’s not a good idea. We’ll use the window.”

He doesn’t know if the gore has reached outside his parents’ room, but he doesn’t want you to be one to find out.

Suguru is the first to jump down, catching you afterward and tucking you both into his parents’ car. You’ve always known that Suguru is good with kids, he’s been babysitting around the neighborhood since he was in grade school, but seeing it again now sets your whole chest ablaze. His compassion and tenderness - your Suguru is just as sweet as you remember. You think you love him.

“I trust and adore her more than anyone in the world,” he says to the frightened girls, having shied away from you, “You’ll never be harmed by her, we promise you that.”

Suguru clings to you as he drives, a hand settled on your leg as if to make sure you won't jump from the car. Soft and sweet and gentle-hearted Suguru. You’re sure you love him.

One day you will tell him.

That day, he will say it back.

For now, you two sit in the front seats of his parents’ car - and in dim offices in Tokyo, your death sentences as Special Grade threats are being signed by men you’ve never met.

#jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #geto x reader #geto suguru x you #suguru x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto x you #geto fluff #suguru geto x reader #jjk movie marathon event

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averysexyleon · 11 months

Note

How did you get the idea of WATB? I know Vhenan's renders inspired you, and I fallen in love with that one Ethan render as well. But I'm curious if there is more. What was your biggest inspirations for the story? Atmosphere, theme, environments etc everything feels like a mix of Beneviento chapter of the game (the hills) + the movie Coraline. I wonder what kind of books, ideas, music etc inspired you for write such an environment in such a story because I just find it so unique and cottagecore-ly and folkloric-ly a daytime gothic setting

;-; tysm <3 it means a lot to me. I know people love the canon places and the "y/n" stuff and it's so much harder to see interest in things that are canon adjacent, and yet not IN the story like karl's family home, eva, maricara and her family....etc. but i love all of them and refuse to write anything I don't love LOL. adhd would stop me from writing it anyway.

I always feel like stories just exist and we have the job of finding them, listening to them, and then writing them. so i know it's corny but i don't think it's all from me or my head. I think the game itself played a huge role in making me think what was possible. especially with eva, and also things like....the loom that maricara wants fixed. there's a loom in a home in the village that really impacted me to see. if that makes sense? a LOT of my story's details are details from the game that I just obsessed over. just miranda's one single diary entry about eva was enough for me to "see" everything that happened with her and decide who eva might be and why miranda's attempts at getting to her are not working despite her having all this power.

I'm trying really hard to think where else, in literary terms, I took inspiration because I know there's a mishmash of things. The core idea is that I wanted to "fix" the ending of re8 especially after shadows of rose. When I saw how capcom wrote the mold "layers" it pretty much lined up with what I had been thinking so I figured I could continue daydreaming and I wanted Ethan to have cool powers other than just having his hand reattach LOL. ..actually used the vibe from beauty and the beast as well. ethan alone in a creepy castle (it's a manor, but, same thing lol) trying to make friends with this big scary "beast" of another man. another story that has a similar manor/lonely feeling is the secret garden which is one of my favorite books. and i love the movie and the soundtrack, i listen to that a lot when writing. there's also a scene from penny dreadful, where the two LI go into a cabin in the middle of nowhere, and they have some quiet cozy moments...that scene came to mind. there's a song that happens during that scene that fits the mood I was going for: search Ethan's Waltz by Abel Korzeniowski (haha, and it's even ethan's waltz.)

I think that's all I can think of for now! the more I write the more I take inspiration from things but it's hard to explain that the whole manor, the layout and everything is just in my mind. I don't feel like I created it, it was just put there by somebody. maybe i'm infected by the mold LOOLLL

#resident evil #resident evil village #re8 #karl heisenberg #ethan winters #mother miranda #resident evil fanfic #resident evil fanfiction

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hopeymchope · 2 years

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i know tsumugi is a pretty evil & not super well written character (even though i love her soooo much!!!!), so if you had the choice, who would you pick to be the drv3 mastermind instead? i think mastermind gonta would be rlly scary c:

I think Tsumugi's ok. I mean, before she turned out to be the mastermind, she was already better written and more fleshed out than Gonta was. :P

I'm complained before about how Gonta is one of the least developed characters in the games, so I'm initially inclined to go the same route as you. It'd be cool to see a mastermind who is male and also physically intimidating just by appearance. It'd also help to develop his character beyond the extremely thin layer we ever learn about him, and you could even use the reveal to justify why he's got almost no characterization beyond just "Pure and innocent snowflake" - I mean, isn't that the most obvious possible way of writing your mastermind to deflect attention from them? Almost TOO obvious? Another plus: If the mastermind isn't female, you can't have them try to dress up as/act like Junko again, which would be great. I welcome any attempt to break from having Junko being behind literally everything.

...but that's kind of ignoring the reality of the V3 ending, isn't it? The reason we get "Junko Enoshima the 53rd" is to comment on how fans always expect Junko to come back because she's, yes, she's always somehow the mastermind. Even if she's dead or offscreen, she's usually behind whatever is going on, whether directly or indirectly. The only thing that broke from that tradition within the main franchise entries is the Future Arc of DR3.

And that subtext of why the "Junko the 53rd" moment happens is also part of the larger issue that Tsumugi isn't really the evil mastermind — she's just an employee of the real culprits, the in-universe Team Danganronpa.

The fact that Team Danganronpa is the real force behind the killing game renders any given mastermind into a pawn or a figurehead. Kind of a shame, but ultimately necessary, right? I mean... you're not going to get the CEO of Team Danganronpa out there talking to the cast, right?

.......so what if we did exactly that?

Yes, I'm proposing that the mastermind reveal moment could be a CEO character coming out from behind the curtain and explaining the situation the cast. The public-facing "real" CEO of Team Danganronpa is now going to serve as the villain of the in-universe fiction; we're straight Vince McMahon-ing this shit.

So yeah, I'm suggesting that a man or woman who the characters have never met before reveals themselves from behind the scenes and proceeds to do the finale speechifying as part of the quarterly public shareholders' call. They can even comment during the speech about how metafictional elements are super in vogue right now, and they wanted to jump aboard that zeitgeist by taking a small but significant role in the latest season! (The discussion of how the CEO's appearance was part of the endgame from the very start will also increase the players' doubts as to whether anything they say is true or just part of a phony script, which is another key component of the existing ending.)

Now we're even more directly commenting on how capitalism's drive for recognizable brands and ever-escalating profits is what drives these established franchises to keep running themselves into the ground.

Is this silly? I mean... yes, it is. But I think the ending of V3 is already very silly. I don't necessarily mean that in a bad way, mind you. I laughed a ton during that final trial. I think this would only heighten the twisted comedy of the whole thing.

#danganronpa #asks #anon #drv3 ending #drv3 spoilers

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daijoboob · 3 years

Photo

wassup wlws and treasured allies. heres the wilw redraw that i started/dropped back in august, freshly polished for @diakkoday :^)

elapsed time: 15 hours? 17?? i lost my sense of time in the lining process

(click on the images for higher quality!)

LOTS of notes and bonus art (including old drafts :o) under the cut!

most important business is up first! this is the last intensive lwa piece that i intend to produce for the foreseeable future. i burned myself out on drawing the girls way back in dianakko week, and then again last month.

while i (accidentally,,) paced myself for this one, i’m not quite feeling it anymore. i don’t know when i will be next, or frankly if at all. rebounding back into the fandom at all was a big quarantine induced surprise in itself. which is all to say- sorry if you were looking forward to more lwa from me :(

for the moment, i’m posting a whole lotta love live, personal pieces, and likely some other fandoms. please hang around for that if you’re interested!

NOTES:

i am aware that accidentally made diana’s face too ikemen >>; i intended to redraw it every time i popped open the doc, and forgot every single time.

i opted not to use a harsh lighting layer for this! just a gradient overlay (specific layer effect: add). i felt like hard lighting would take away from the cartoony vibe.

the lining took so long. every couple of weeks i’d just pop open the doc, slog through a couple lines, and close it indefinitely. i wanted so badly to not have to deal with the anatomy but we managed it ok bros

a lot of time was also dedicated to cleaning the lines. i’d taken so long to finish it that i figured i might as well make it just, way too polished

i wasn’t sure whether or not to keep the colored lines! i like the version with black lineart just about equally. colored lines feel more polished to me, but maybe it could use the extra contrast haha.

i was very tempted to change the color palettes- particularly in switching diana’s shirt to a blue, like i did with the face paint.

the last image is a reference to a meme that circulated back when the toh episode aired! i’d love to give credit to the original creator, but have completely lost track of it. if anyone recalls the link and can shoot it over that’d be very appreciated :)

lotte is a national treasure and i love her to bits

this is what the bg looks like! i rendered it just enough for it to look full with all the layers up. this was the quickest part of the process hands down- completed it start to finish in ~1.5 hours. because i rendered diakko+lotte in harsh solid lines and shading, i wanted the bg to be soft and fuzzy. ideally the contrast between the foreground and background coloring would be stronger, but i gave up trying to figure that out lol.

the og sketch!! when i was putting together this post, i did a handful of screencap redraws and saw what stuck.

more of those sketches! i liked how diana turned out :^) you can see that i still wasn’t sure how much of the toh style to integrate at this point!

figured i might as well stick the other sketches from diakko week in here as well! the latter two led to this and this respectively. i switched to diana not Doin Too Well with scary movies purely because i thought it was funnier lmao

and that’s it! thanks for reading through if you did. i thought about not doing this at all, but i find others’ artist notes really interesting and figured some of you might as well.

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w1ndrunn3rblog · 2 years

Text

SPOILERS - "Shattered Legacies" & Shattered Me

** DISCLAIMER - normally I would do a more coherent, fact-based, fluidly written opinion piece after a new Sylvanas-focused cinematic. But I was tired and pissed off after watching this and I just wanted to get it all off my chest. So full disclosure here, this is more of a rant-based requiem than an intellectual analysis **

So, it appears that Blizzard have basically confirmed what they wanted everybody to feel about her all along - that her entire character will only be judged and defined by Teldrassil, and that it will be the first (and probably only) thing anyone ever thinks about when her name is mentioned again. The last 20 years of every other trauma, betrayal, and death she has had to endure up until then, almost entirely because of everybody else’s ignorance and mistreatment of her, has been rendered utterly irrelevant. Just to really rub salt in the wound, Blizzard also essentially confirm that she did plan to burn Teldrassil all along by having her say "This was the only way to true freedom", indisputably retconning everything originally established in ‘A Good War’. Of course, we’re still getting cryptic one-liners with no context or explanation, or why the original story meant nothing. But that is par for the course at this point for Blizzard.

Just to add more insult to injury, Blizzard are also driving home – with all the subtlety of a drunk donkey with a wrench – that we're now just meant to only associate The Banshee with 'Evil' now, as some alter ego that was in the driver seat of her consciousness making the worst decisions possible, again rendering every piece of character development and every moment of trauma irrelevant even further. This is basically Blizzard saying "The Banshee Queen you knew and loved for the past 20 years as being a symbol of strength and defiance never existed, she was just evil" In classic Blizzard fashion, they show a complete inability to write anything remotely gray, multi-layered, complex, multidimensional, or nuanced, and Sylvanas has always paid the harshest price for that more than any other character. It's another predictable case of black and white once again, because that's literally the limits of their writers abilities – just a tattered Post-it Note on the front of Ion’s top level briefing with “Banshee Queen - evil, crazy, reckless. Ranger General - good, sensible, regretful" scribbled across it.

The cinematic offers absolutely zero exploration at all of all the traumas The Banshee has endured up until that point to explain to Ranger General what experiences have shaped her personality and her decisions. No, all we see, and all Ranger General sees is Teldrassil. As I have said on many occasion by now, Blizzard tell us how to feel about character by showing us how others react to them. In this case, this cinematic is entirely Ranger General's PoV. All Ranger General sees is Teldrassil, and therefore Blizz are telling us the playerbase that all we should see is Teldrassil - nothing more, nothing less. Nothing else matters in the past 20 years of Sylvanas's character, just Teldrassil. There is no bigger betrayal of her character. Yet the scary thing is, we all know Blizzard's expert ability at sinking to new record lows. What we hope may just be the last nail in the coffin of her character here may just be one of the first when you consider this Patch has barely started to be revealed.

Then of course, we once again we have to endure yet another a) man, and b) Alliance character being the reason for Sylvanas's character changing, rather than through any agency of her own. Uther should not have been a part of this at all, he had no need to be. At the very most, he should have been a guiding influence in the game outside of the cinematic, with Sylvanas’s exercising her own agency to reconcile and repair the fractured pieces of her soul by herself. It would have been far more meaningful for the Banshee and Ranger General to have been the only two characters who made the choice, without another damn human male paladin interfering and telling her own business. I know Uther means well, but when it comes to respective traumas, they are poles apart. Sylvanas's trauma is so much more deep, prolonged, and unimaginably violating there is no way Uther could ever understand or relate. In which case, he had might as well have not been there at all. But alas, Blizzard just love their white dudes telling Sylvanas her own business whenever she's around. She was a strong, determined, independent resolute character long before she ever knew – let alone met – Uther. She has been a character who has largely defined herself by always having a plan to overcome whatever odds she faced, and a vast majority of the time, coming out the winner because of her ruthless pragmatism and relentless spirit. Yet here, when her greatest ever, and most personally empowering, victory would be to confront and repair herself…she needs the help of total stranger she’s never known to do it. It’s so insulting it hurts.

Then there is whole effect of undeath to address. The concept of being undead, as we've been told for so long, is that it amplifies negative emotions and dulls positive ones. This in turn means that Sylvanas (and therefore the Forsaken as a whole) retain aspects of their original personality, they are merely skewed towards the negative and amoral/immoral. But that personality still exists, it does not go away and get replaced wholesale with pure undiluted evil. Yet what Blizzard have essentially said here in this cinematic is that there is only black and white with Sylvanas - Black = Banshee / White = Ranger General. For me, this undermines 20 years of previously established character development that has repeatedly shown where there is plenty of overlap between the Banshee and the Ranger General with regards to their respective personalities. Hell, even the short story “Sister is Another Word for Always” earlier this year illustrates that. It's what made her such a fascinating, complex, and deeply relatable character - because we knew there was not two distinct personalities in there, because we knew that they were part of the same whole. But now? Blizzard have seemingly made the decision to approach this narrative corner they've written themselves into and tackled it with a sledgehammer rather than a scalpel and gone “WHAM! There you go - evil Banshee over there, good Ranger General over there. Job done"

On an equally depressing note, from a broader perspective this cinematic also has grave implications for the identity of the Forsaken as a whole. Are we now basically being told they are also essentially evil, shambling monsters with an 'evil' spirit at the wheel and their 'good' half locked away somewhere? It betrays every reason we fell in love with our undead friends and their tragic story. It betrays their very identity and purpose of existence.

All in all, this was one of my worst fears with this final patch - that Blizzard were going to, without any degree of subtlety or sensitivity, tell us that the 20-year-old Sylvanas we fell in love with has all been a lie and is entirely defined by one irreversible act. But alas, they have really gone and done it. In one sense, I am beyond overjoyed that we finally get to see her name in green again, talk to her again, maybe even take quests from her again. It feels like old times again. But as the old Thanos meme goes:

If there is one thing that does give me some sense of hope that Sylvanas has retained some aspect of her Banshee personality is that one of her new post-cinematic datamined lines says "The cycle must be broken". This may be suggesting that she still believes the system of the Shadowlands is fundamentally wrong and that it still requires to be changed for all souls to be free. If this is true, I would be somewhat happy with that. It would repair at least some of the damage I feel this latest cinematic inflicted on Sylvanas's character. I also remember many people on social media post-SoD theorising that they would not be surprised if 'living' Sylvanas still retains that belief of breaking the system because it's something even the Ranger General would disagree with and want to change.

In conclusion, yes I am aware it’s early datamining days. Yes I’m aware there is, almost certainly tons more material, dialogue, and character moments to come yet. Yes I’m aware I could easily be seen as overreacting and doom-mongering under a dark cloud of relentless pessimism. And you know what? I want nothing more than to be utterly proved wrong about all of it and to be shown up as a total idiot for jumping the gun and assuming the worst of Blizzard. But then, what can I say – as Loyalists, we’ve been here so many times before. For the love of all that's fucking holy Blizzard, just for once prove us all wrong...

#sylvanas windrunner #shadowlands #spoilers

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hobbitsnapes · 3 years

Text

The Red Hoods Protègè chapter 20

Older Damian Wayne x ofc

(Photo made by my lovely friend @iamhollows)

Summary:Red Hood has taken a young vigilante under his wing and subsequently changes Damians life forever.

Tags: @comic-nerd-dc @comic-brew @psychovigilantewrites @psych0crybaby

Her feet screamed in pain as she walked into the cave, each step growing more tiresome than the last.

It was a long night, going from 9 to 5 in the morning. The sun hadn’t rose from the sky yet, not for another hour or more. The first 3 hours was nothing but sit and wait, the cold November air shaking to her core as she sat and prayed that they would just hurry along.

At midnight was when they finally came, her patients slim to none due to the freezing temperature.

She managed to get the information and take out majority of the men with little bloodshed.

The next 6 hours was spent delivering the information to her fathers bunker, where he sadly wasn’t there to meet her. Also managing to stop 3 robberies, 2 hit and runs, and stopping an elderly man from being jumped.

The night had been fairly uneventful, that was until her bike halted mid way to the manor. She swore up and down for half an hour as she walked her bike back to the manor, through the storm that conveniently hit when she started walking back.

A groan leaves her as she peels her suit from her body, her muscles sore from having walked from the middle of the city back home.

A hiss breaks the silence as she feels a sharp pain in her right shoulder blade. Feeling behind her and wincing when she felt the small drop of blood.

Her scars had almost completely heeled over the years, no longer open wounds that would always scream out in pain. But once in a while, when she might have swong her arms wrong, some of the deeper scars would slightly open up.

It was nothing major, nothing that required stitches or immediate care. Just a clean and a bandage

A tear slips past her eye when she saw where it was, the largest j scar on her shoulder was slightly dripping, reminding her of the first time she saw them.

A gasp leaves her as she looks in the mirror in horror, sobs wrecking through her as she fell to her knees. Raw skin and stitches barley healing covered her shoulders, some of the skin being completely gone and looking like chunks were missing. The skin was red, some lighter and darker as blood dries along all the wounds.

She knew it was bad, the excruciating pain that she constantly felt a clear sighn that it was going to be large. But nothing could prepare for the mangled skin of her back that once was scar free.

Her heart throbbed in pain as she yells out in anguish. Her sobs breaking as she passes out on the dirty bathroom floor.

She wipes away her tear as she grabs for the alcohol, sucking in a deep breath before squirting the liquid on the cut.

A hiss breaks out as the burning consumes her shoulder, trying to steady her breath. Once the pain subsided, she patted the skin dry and applied the large bandage to the cut, finally turning away from the mirror and walking back to her room.

The sharp air hit her skin almost immediately, sending a wave of goosebumps to erupt from her skin.

It was snowing, quite lightly in fact. The ground barley had a layer of the fine white snowflakes over it, like a sheet covering a bed.

Her feet walked along the ground, watching each step as to not slip. Looking around the vast garden as the small flakes made a beautiful picture. This is what she wished winter could be. But alas, it would only be a matter of weeks before a thick layer of snow blanketed every inch of the beautiful garden. Rendering it near impossible to venture out past the lines of the old manor.

She walked out past the large tree, over past the small patch of plain grass to, a walkway?

She had never seen this before, a path through the thick forest.

She walked into it, seeing the footprints in the almost frozen dirt. She bent down to look, noticing the size difference between hers and the prints.

The wide space between each prints indicates running, and the almost perfectly pristine prints showed it was from today. But who would be out running today? Then she remembered.

She watched as he walked by her open door, a plain under armour shirt with tight sports shorts. He didn’t glance once at her, his permanent furrowed brow on his blank face.

But why would he be running this morning? He hadn’t gone in weeks, preferring to exorcise in the cave as of late.

She decided to stop it and continue walking, ignoring the prints as best as she could.

She came to a stop when she spotted it, no more than a hundred feet in front of her was a pond. It looked almost perfect, no trash, no leaves or grass, only a few lily pads scattered around.

A laugh bubbles out of her when she sees a family of ducks in the pond. She walks up to them, careful as to not scare them. She notices one in the back who was having trouble swimming with the others, flapping its small wings around and trying to keep up. She reaches over to the little one, petting the little bird with the pads of her fingers. “Hey little guy.” She cooes, watching as the small duck shakes it’s soaking body.

She reaches out, grabbing one of the lily pads, and sets him on the pad. “There we go little guy.”

She watched as he sits on the pad as if it’s a ride, a smile on her face at the sight.

Neither one noticed each other when they walked down the hall in opposite directions. Colliding into one another, making them jump and look up, pains igniting in their chests. They just stood there like dear in headlights, both not knowing what to say. Should he say something? Should she apologize? Neither said anything as they looked away, walking back down the hall, their eyes slightly glossing.

She ran down the steps as fast she could, her heart pounding out of her chest as she nearly misses a step.

She runs through the door and barrels over to her dad, running up and latching onto him like a koala bear. He picks her up, laughs bubbling out of him as he spins her around. “I thought you said you’d be here tomorrow?” She says, muffled by his chest. “Welll, I kinda lied cause I wanted to surprise you.” He laughs, letting go of her.

They hadn’t seen one another for about a week, having trouble not only finding the time but a way to get there. Jasons motorcycle had been in the shops for a few weeks, having engine problems that even he couldn’t fix. He’d use his car, but had forgotten to get it inspected.

She hears him before she sees him, the smoothness of his voice a stark contrast to Bruce’s gruff and raspy tone.

A gasp leaves her when she sees him, the tall man in blue jeans, a red flannel and smooth jet black hair and blue eyes.

Jason looks behind him, seeing his daughters hundred yard stare. A laugh bubbles out of him when he sees she’s looking at Clark. He can’t help but find it funny, he remembers the day he met the man of steel for the first time, mirroring the same look as her.

“Robin, meet Superman.” Bruce says to the young boy, a smile on his usually cold face. Jasons heart drops in his stomach when he sees him, nearly at his waist.

Clark bends down to the young boy, a fond smile on his face. “Hi Robin.” He says, extending his hand. Jason shakily resigns the favor, feeling the impressive grip from the kryptonian. “H-hi Superman.” He shakily says back. A chuckle leaving from the man at his shyness.

He smiles at the fond memory, looking back at her and seeing she has the same look as before. “Wanna go meet him?” Her head whips to her father at his question. Eyes wide like a deer in headlights. “Are you kidding? That’s Superman!” She whispers. A large laugh leaving him at her statement. He lightly grabs hold of her shoulder, slowly walking her over to him. “He’s not as scary as you’d think. I was exactly like this when I met him.”

Her heart beats so loudly she is sure he can hear it even without his heightened senses. An awestruck look on her face when she gets closer. Jason walks behind her, a hand still softly planted on her shoulder.

Clarks head turns when they both walk up, a large smile on his face when he recognizes Jason. “Well if it isn’t Jason Todd.” He says, pulling the now grown up man into a hug. “Nice to see you too Clark.”

Both men pull apart and look down at her, Jason having trouble keeping a chuckle in at her face. Her eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. “And this must be that daughter of yours.” Clark chuckles, making her face erupt in red. “Nice to meet you, I’m Clark.” He says, extending his hand to her, like he did to her father all those years ago. “Y-you’re Superman.” She stammers. Making all three of the men laugh. She doesn’t even acknowledge his hand as she stares at him. “That I am.” He chuckles, finding her look of pure awe Endearing. “I-I remember seeing you fly once when I was 4. My parents said it was a fever dream.” She says, making each of the men laugh so hard they held their stomachs.

“What do you do if you’re in the middle of flying and you have to pee? Like I’m talking no holding it you gotta pee NOW?” She asks, making him laugh. “You know, I’ve been asked many questions over the years. But none like that.” “Well it’s a genuine question that I’ve had for years now. I mean it must happen at least once in your life?” He can’t help the laugh leaving him. “Alright fine, once in a while it does. And what I’ll do is find the nearest body of water, and apologize to Arthur.” He chuckles.

“What does it look like up there? Does everyone look small like ants?” She asks, face resting in her pals as she lays on the couch in her stomach. “It’s, hard to describe. And you haven’t been up in the sky before to know?” He asks, “I mean, I’ve been on top of buildings before so kind of?” She replies. “Wait so you’ve never been in the air before? Even gliding with a cape?” She sighs at his question, looking down at her hands. “I don’t have the same gear as Bruce or the robins. The closest I’ve come to is gliding with a grappling hook, but I’m more so looking in front of me rather than below.” She replies. A smile breaking on his face at her confession. “Come on then, I’ve got something I think you’ll like.”

Both of them stand outside of the manor, watching as everyone but her father walks out. “Um, what’s going on?” Tim asks, seeing Clark wrapping his arms around her. “Taking her on a trip like I did for all you kids.” Clark replies, a smile on both their faces. He looks down at her, feeling her hands gripping onto him as hard as she can. “You’ll be safe, I’ve done this for all of them.” He whispers, calming her stammering heart slightly.

“Alright you ready?” He asks. She shakes her head yes, legs slightly shaking. “Alright on 3,2,1.” He says, before she feels her heart and stomach drop as she shoots high from the ground. She can’t help the scream that erupts from her throat as she feels the wind fly around her.

She clutched onto him with her life, tears nearly escaping from her closed eyes. She feels, weightless, but a strong force surrounding her at the same time. Her heart beating wildly in her chest as her stomach catches. Feeling the shaking of her insides as she holds on tighter.

She feels him come to a stop, the force of the wind no longer astounding her. “Hey, open your eyes.” He whispers. She finally opens her eyes and moves her face from his chest, her eyes widening. She’s right above central Gotham, high above every building in sight. She looks around in sheer wonder and awe as she takes in the sight. People below her walking look so small, it’s hard to believe that she’s the same size as they are. Buildings that shed gaze up at, now look small in comparison to the skyscrapers that she's level with.

He can’t help but let out a chuckle at her expression, reminding him of her fathers exact same expression when he was young. She might not be his, but she was surely meant to be his daughter. He watched as her pupils adjust to take in all the sights. He hears her heart calm but still aratic against her chest as the adrenaline courses through her. “Wanna see a trick?” He asks, watching as her attention is now back on him. She shakes her head yes, a gleeful childlike smile on her face.

He tucks her head back into his chest as he shouts through the sky, laughing at her scream of excitement.

“And today’s top story is this photograph taken just this morning. It appears to be a set of angel wings written in the sky. Some eyewitnesses say it was work of a plane, some even say they saw the infamous Superman. While some believe it’s a sign from God. Maybe there will be some saving grace for our city after all.”

Her and Tim let out a laugh as they watch the TV, barely able to hold the bowl of popcorn between them. She falls into his side, trying to stop her wheezing breath but to no avail. He wraps his arm around her, trying to stop himself from crying.

They hear his footsteps before they see him, watching at the open door as he glares at the two. “TT” he says, before walking away. She sighs as she gets off of Tim, rubbing her temples. “I don’t get it, why is he so pissed when I’m around you? I mean doesn’t he know?” She asks, annoyance heavily laced in her words. He looks away and sighs. “Actually, no he doesn’t know. None of them do.” He admits, hearing a gasp from her. “Tim, why haven’t you told them yet? I mean no offense but, how do they not know?” “I had a girlfriend at one point. Everyone thought we were gonna be like dick and babs, they, were all shocked when we split. And since then, I haven’t dated or even mentioned anything about it.” She puts her hand on his shoulder, making him finally look at her. “Tim, this is something they should know about you.” He scoffs as he moves her hand from his shoulder, a pain shooting through her heart. “Oh yeah and how would I even bring it up? Oh hey Damian that line you drew looks pretty straight, speaking of straight, I’m not. Oh and also I’m in love with my best friend for years. They’re all emotionally constipated. You’re the closest one here who’s actually got some emotion in you.” He says, both anger and sarcasm in his tone. He feels her hug him, wrapping his arms around her. “We’ll figure something out, but only when you’re ready.”

#damian wayne x reader #older damian wayne #damian wayne fanfiction #damian wayne imagine #damian wayne smut #batman #batfam x reader #batfamily #damian wayne #Jason todd #red hood #dick grayson #Tim drake #dc #dc imagine #dceu

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ms-katonic-of-tamriel · 4 years

Text

Saw a fic tagged Lady Miraak/Lucien Flavius the other day.

Oh my god. That poor man. He’ll be eaten alive.

OTOH Lady Miraak?? Have some courage and make it male Miraak. Miraak’s bi as anything, he’ll take one look at this sheltered young Imperial desperate for knowledge of the Dragon Cult and... think things.

Bonus points for Very Sheltered Lucien at one point going “you know, if I were a girl, I’d be really nervous about now! Because... because you’re a bit terrifying!” (Spoiler alert: Lucien Flavius is really nervous, and Miraak is grinning at him like a born predator.)

Miraak chuckles and tells him to report back for his first lesson the next day then goes off to track down the annoying but definitely Not Straight jester, also from Cyrodiil, because he has to ask, have the norms around same-sex relationships changed that much??

“No, no, only Cicero fears that Mr Flavius is... how can Cicero put this. Sheltered. Naive. Barely twenty years old. The only child of doting parents. Has spent his entire existence in academic libraries. Is likely untouched. It is entirely possible he has managed to go his entire life blissfully unaware a relationship between two men is even possible.”

Miraak finds this hilarious and decides to have fun with that idea, and Dovahzul and history lessons are interwoven with VERY seductive body language, near-unmistakeable innuendo, getting Lucien all hot and bothered while not actually touching him then backing off immediately. Eventually Lucien snaps and talks to Kaidan of all people, because he’s confused as all hell, because it’s weird, it’s wrong, he doesn’t understand it, if Miraak was a woman, he’d know it was flirting but Miraak’s a man, men don’t do that to other men, do they?

Kaidan the other bisexual facepalms, wants to know just how they ever let Lucien out on his own, tells him yes they do in fact do that, just as women often go out with other women, it’s perfectly normal and not remotely rare. And yeah, Miraak’s seducing you. Or trying to. Do you need me to have a word with him, because First Dragonborn or no First Dragonborn, he doesn’t get to hassle you.

“No! No? I need to think about this. A lot. Oh Mara.”

Cicero is the next port of call. Did you know about this, Cicero? Men going out with other men? Cicero stares at Lucien, puts down the anatomical diagram of pain nexuses that he’s been colouring in, looks at him long and hard and then bursts out laughing for a good minute before drying his eyes and nodding. Yes, Flavius. Yes, Cicero knew. Cicero thought everybody knew.

“I didnt know! Oh gods. Miraak’s interested in me. Oh gods. Cicero, what do I do?”

“You are asking me for romantic advice?? Oh by Sithis... I don’t know! Are you interested in him or not?”

“I don’t know! He’s terrifying!”

“Good or bad terrifying?”

“Good... there’s a good terrifying??”

Cicero realises he now has to explain kink as well as queerness and wordlessly gets some books out of his personal collection.

“Some people like having power removed from them and being rendered utterly helpless while a ruthless, ravishing brute does whatever they like with them. Other people like taking helpless yet willing victims and having their way with them. It does not surprise Cicero that Miraak is among them.”

“Which kind is he??”

“He just had five thousand years of Mora rendering him helpless, he’s either VERY keen on it or has had enough. For you, boy? Assume it’s the latter.”

Lucien whimpers. Takes the books. Runs. Liriel gave Miraak’s mask to Dragonborn Gallery without hesitation and he’s been bare-faced ever since, with piercing blue eyes and long blonde hair and a smile that could tempt an Aedra to sin. She let him keep the robes though, having had replicas made for her museum, the originals cleaned and mended, and then returned, and the First Dragonborn had been wearing those whenever Lucien had seen him. Without the mask they were low-cut, to well below his collarbones, and while they weren’t tight-fitting, it was clear Miraak had muscles under there, and Lucien knew first-hand Miraak could fight with blade as well as magic.

Miraak was terrifying. That was a given. But Lucien had to know for sure.

Next lesson, Lucien enters the safehouse, sees Miraak sitting by the fire, and Miraak only has to look to know something is wrong. Different. Lucien is staring at him and not coming any closer, and Miraak realises that after three and a half months, he’s finally fucking realised.

About time. Now, what will the young seeker after knowledge do about it.

Silence and it is Miraak who breaks it.

“Is something wrong, goraan?”

“No - yes - have you been flirting with me??”

Bless him, his young student has finally graduated.

“You have finally noticed! Well done, goraan. Yes, I have been... how does Tamrielic put it. Pushing my luck. Nudging at the boundaries. Wondering which will fall first. Note I have not laid a finger on you. Merely left suggestions in the air. And despite becoming ever more blatant, you still come back for more. Why is that, goraani?”

Oh gods, he’s changed to the possessive tense.

“I’m not your... I’m leaving. Right now! I’m not coming back! I’m not paying for Dovahzul lessons in sex!”

Surprise on Miraak’s face. “It was never the intent you should, goraani. Ah, krosis. I took advantage of your naivety. It was wrong. I apologise. If you wish to stop the lessons, I understand. But if not, I will continue - only I promise to behave this time. You have my word as an Atmoran.”

Atmoran honour and the swearing of a vow were covered early on. Lucien doesn’t entirely trust him, but at length he sits down and the lessons resume. Except they’re different. Miraak is a respectful three feet away at all times. No breathing down the back of his neck without quite touching. No innuendo or purring or that damn smile. Just Miraak being calm and professional and, and... Lucien hates it. Hates every fucking second of it because walls have gone up, part of Miraak that was on display is now shut off, probably forever and Lucien... Lucien misses it. Lucien misses the feeling of feeling scared out of his wits but safe at the same time because Miraak wouldn’t really... Miraak apparently would. If Lucien asked him. Lucien does not know how to ask. Or what to ask for. But Miraak behind him, trailing a finger down the back of his neck, Miraak’s chest on his back and his arms round his waist... With arms like that, Miraak probably gives really good cuddles.

“Goraan. You are clearly not paying attention. If your mind is elsewhere, you are welcome to discontinue until it returns?”

“No!” Lucien gasps. Raised eyebrow from Miraak who wants to know where exactly his thoughts are flying if they are not here, and Lucien can take it no more.

“You. Utter. Bastard!”

Miraak doesn’t even look shocked. “I am, yes. Which of my many sins are you referring to?”

“You can’t just... you can’t just do this to me! You can’t just spend months being all up close and personal and then just... just switch it off like it meant nothing!”

Strange look on Miraak’s face. “Krosis, Lucien. I was under the impression my attentions were unwelcome and you wished me to stop.”

“No! Oh gods. No. You utter, utter bastard, I hate you so much, please don’t stop.”

Silence, Lucien’s face going bright red as he realises what’s just come out of his mouth, and he can barely look at Miraak. Then the chair creaks, Miraak’s footsteps are on the stone floor and then gauntlets are removed, hit the table, and then Miraak’s hands are in his.

“Lokaaliin. Is that your wish? Truly? For me not to?”

Miraak’s voice is gentler than Lucien has ever heard it and he finally looks Miraak in the eye to see the softest smile, one he’d not thought the man capable of, and Miraak’s reaching up to stroke his cheek, cupping his face and Lucien can’t stop himself leaning into his touch.

“I’m scared, Miraak.”

“It is all right to be. I have... not had a lover in a long time. But I have not forgotten how to give pleasure. I will give it to you if you ask.”

“I don’t even know how to - I’ve never had one! Oh gods.”

Miraak just smiles and kisses his hand. “It is all right. I will take care of you. It is your wish to move our lessons to a more intimate footing?”

Lucien nods, because Miraak makes him flushed and breathless and eager for... he doesn't even know what for. Miraak takes him by the hand and leads him to the bedroom upstairs, promising nothing below the waist will happen yet, they can just talk and cuddle, yes?

After all the frantic worrying, for it just to be that is a blessed, blessed relief. Miraak sheds his circlet, outer layers, strips down to his trousers, kicks off his boots and lies down on the bed, arms open for Lucien and Lucien hesitantly takes off his outer coat and his own boots and goes into Miraak’s arms, and from the moment skin touches skin, it is safety, reassurance, a throbbing strength that allays his fears as Miraak pulls him into his arms and holds him tight, and it takes Lucien a moment to realise Miraak is shaking.

“Are you all right?”

“Krosis. Yes. I am well. I just... I have had no one in my arms like this in millennia. Ah, goraani, I’m sorry. Be patient with me.”

Lucien hadn’t expected that. For all he’d seen Miraak as the scary First Dragonborn, he’d not even realised there was still a human being in there with feelings and vulnerabilities. That... was a lot less scary, or rather it was still scary in a different way. Goodness, what if he hurt Miraak? He’d never even thought of it that way round before. Well. He’d just need to be gentle, wouldn’t he. Just as Miraak was presently being with him.

It would be a few weeks more before sex actually started to happen. Rather more before they finally told other people they were seeing each other. Round about the time Liriel takes them both in her party, Lucien’s swarmed by Falmer, and then Miraak promptly immolates them all so fiercely you can’t tell flesh from chitin any more and when all the foes are dead, is frantically checking Lucien over, healing his wounds and then holding him so tightly no one can miss what’s up.

Liriel has strong words for Miraak, but sees Lucien leap to his defence and at length decides, what the hell, anyone to be a reforming influence on Miraak is a good thing, and Miraak does seem to genuinely care. Still, she does promise that if he hurts Lucien, she’s coming after him. Miraak just smiles. He’d expect no less.

Not so very long after that, Lucien moved into the safehouse with Miraak, and then it turned out his father got him a lead to this Dwemer ruin on Solstheim of all places and who better to go and have a look with him than a Solstheimer? That led to a whole series of adventures, including that one time Miraak nearly broke up with him for remantling the Dwemer-Daedra entity that had tried to kill Miraak and possess his corpse... but eventually Miraak forgave him. Even if he decided that if Lucien now had a demon horse, he was getting one, and acquired a Storm Atronach in horse form as his mount. At least it wasn’t tentacled.

#miraak #lucien flavius #skyrim #this is never going on ao3

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teechew · 4 years

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VESPINNA

- cw: mention or rape and underage rape (only the mention, not the description of the act itself) -

Name: Virginia Quispero Alias: Vespinna Age: around 40 Quirk: gorgon – hair is made of think black snakes. Can transforms into a giant gorgon creature when all head (snakes + hers) think the exact same thing Passives: slow regeneration, super strength, super stamina, hyper vigilance (because around 100 pairs of eyes) Snake head poison: causes hallucination, paralysis and intestinal disorders Human head poison: deadly muscle stimulant, kills in 7 seconds Gorgon form: no legs, snake tail, giant size, feathers among the scales, all bites are mortals, barely human-looking

Born in an isolated valley in Peru, her family was part of a cult to Vespinno, a pagan god of destruction. When her quirk appeared, her father was persuaded she was Vespinno’s chosen and tried to raise her in the rank of the cult. The heads were charmed by his words and how he was certain she'd give birth to Vespinno himself! Her mother, realizing the madness of the cult, and her daughter safety was at risk, ran away with the child. She found refuge in the bigger city and went into hiding. She found work and kept the child hidden inside her home at all times. Virginia was really bored, always asking to get out and play with the other children, but the mother kept refusing. After a year of this life, the mother was tired. Money was short, the cult and even the government were trying to get their hands on Virginia. Without exit, the mother gave her up for adoption on the condition that Virginia was adopted out of the country.

Vi was sent to a wannabe celebrity japanese couple when she was 5. They intend on using Vi as a "pity" child, showing how "good and charitable" they were by adopting a 3rd country child with a difficult quirk. The brain was definitely the mother, spending most of her time recording vlogs and cleaning videos for her channel. The father was mostly uninterested, too busy working to feed his wife’s luxury taste. The plan was foiled by Virginia's queen intellect. She realized quickly that once the camera was off, her "mother" wasn't as caring and nice, often sending her to her room and not wanting to have anything to do with "a freak". The couple had another child; Ishimaru, barely a toddler then. He and Virginia were close. He was too young and hadn’t learn the biased view on her quirk. Virginia decided to "enlist" his help to expose her mother.

One day, when the mother was having a livestreamed Q&A session, Virginia came into view. "Mother, I'm hungry, can I get a snack?" The mother, under the camera at this moment, told her "not yet" and sent her to her room, saying that she was busy but remaining sweet and caring. Virginia shook her head, making her snakes wave around and asked again to have a snack. The mother became more and more tense. With each refusal the child insisted, getting on her mother nerves. At one point the woman excused herself to the audience and shut the livestream. As the mother was scolding Virginia, Ishimaru, paid in candy by his sister, came closer to the computer and "pushed the red button" on his mother screen. Virginia had taught him how to use a mouse... And the livestream started. Virginia was still in the middle of a scolding. The mother, already mad, was pointing and now screaming at the gorgon. Virginia, following her plan, was especially good at being a brat that day and was promptly, under the eyes of the watchers, sent "to the basement without diner!" No need to say, child services were called and took Virginia and Ishimaru away from the couple. Virginia never saw her little brother again.

She was send to foster families, but because of this awful experience and her quirk that, you have to admit, is scary, Virginia was never adopted nor stayed long in the families, changing households every now and then. Because of this she was also changing schools often and never made long lasting friends. She was a loner and often though of as a bully due to her tallness, superior strength, bad grades, and attitude. Truth was she had a huge social skill delay and never learned how to make friends. When she reached 16, she was old enough to work a part-time job and the government wasn't ready to pay for her studies, especially seeing her bad grades. She was cut from the foster program and left to fend for herself. She was lucky enough that the current foster family didn't throw her out, but offered her to stay in her current room as long as she participated in the grocery bill.

Virginia tried. She really did. No front work wanted her - "not customer friendly" they said. Back work never lasted long as her colleagues often complained about her and how "scary" she was. She finally landed an ungrateful job but it was something; gutting fish in the early hours of the day. She smelled awful, slept through most of the day, but was able to pay for her room. And life threw her on the ground again.

At 17, one morning, after work, she was walking home when she was suddenly abducted. A man approached her and, of course, she was wary; a young girl walking alone, on the docks, in the early hours of morning... A scenario straight out of a cliché horror movie. She kept walking, thinking she was overreacting, her snakes on high alert and hissing. Suddenly the man dropped a wet sheet on her; he must have prepared his plan, the sheet was doused in chloroform. If he were to simply put it on her nose her snakes would have bite him everywhere, but the sheet was neutralizing the snakes, and not only her face but each snake was breathing the chloroform. Virginia fainted.

When she awoke, groggy, feeling dirty, and tied up, she knew; they didn't just watch her. She struggled to get in a better position, realizing the same sheet had been used to wrap her snakes and keep them enclosed. Her hands and feet were tightly tied together, but it was nothing her strength couldn't handle. She quickly broke them, freed her snakes, and inspected herself; bruised, raped, drugged, but alive. She picked herself up and went to the closest door. She could hear voices... and cries. She found kids, boys and girls, dirty and scared, some with bruised on their faces and limbs, most barely clothed, if clothed. All way younger than her, too young for whatever these men have done to them... to her. When she came in, some kids cried louder and Vi heard a booming voice behind her

"WHAT ARE YOU WHINNING FOR AGAIN YOU FUCKIN BRATS?!"

She turned around and faced a man coming from an other room. Easily in his late 50, ugly, and fat. He looked at her, surprised "hey, you're the new one. How did you get free?" He walked toward her, clenching his fists. "Not important, you're too old for my taste but we still got work for you." The children started crying even more, Vi could hear more men voices approaching, she was in danger, the kids were in danger. Something in Virginia's head snapped. Her snakes started screaming to kill, she wanted to protect the kids, but that'd mean killing the men. Kill them. KILL!

From there, her memory is hazy. She remembered feeling powerful and unstoppable. She remembered the taste of blood in her mouth, the screams of men, and the sounds of children’s feet running away. She also remembered the police sirens, the hero's orders to surrender, but she didn't listen. She wanted to go away. Away from everyone, from everything! But then the dream ended. She got punched. Hard. And she fell.

When she awoke again she was in an isolated cell, with a muzzle on her face. She tried moving but her entire body was held in a straightjacket. She tried moving her snakes and realized each of their heads were inside little locks, rendering them useless. In jail. Her trial came quickly. She was declared a Villain on an account of intentionally killing 10+ adults, and destroying a government-owned building as well as resisting hero arrest. She never heard about the children, about the fact she was kidnapped, drugged, and raped... The sentenced was 8 years in prison. She did the first one in a juvenile prison and then transferred into a high security prison for Class-S villains. Virginia often jokes that these years were like school; she never made friends, kept to herself, and waited for time to pass. She was left alone, mainly because people knew what she was capable of. The muzzle was never removed except for lunch time, were she was under strict surveillance. The rare time she wasn't left alone she knew quickly how to assert her dominance. She was strong and ruthless and at one point was asked what was her villain name. "Vespinna." Slowly the other inmates learned to not mess with her.

8 years later she was finally let out. Her foster family had gone silent, no family, no friends... She was truly alone and without a place to go home to. So she walked. After a full day of walking she reached the other side of the city. She was tired, hungry, and night was coming. Frustrated, she slipped in an alleyway, away from the public eyes, and sat down against a wall. Bringing her knees against her torso, she wrapped her snakes around her and closed her eyes. She was alone...

Later that night she was awoken by a repeated poking on her leg. She unwrapped her snakes, ready to fend of anything that was responsible for the poking, and was faced with a homeless man. He was dirty, with at least 3 layers of clothes. Looking tired, with huge bags under his eyes, he looked to be in his fifties, his hair and beard greying under the dirt and dust. He smelled horrible and Virginia had a hard time not frowning her nose. "Hey kid, you're new here?" Virginia frowned, wary. "So what?" The man shrugged "Just wondering if it's a one night situation or if you gon' be there for longer." Virginia stood up, towering over the man "And what about it?" The man didn't seem impressed. "Listen, honey, I'm the one usually sleepin' here. Just wanna know if I'm in danger or if you're chill." Virginia relaxed a little. "it's... your alley?" The man turned away and walked toward a panel a wood, pushing it to reveal a cardboard box fort of some sort. In it was a dirty old mattress and several garbage bags of junk. "It's not *mine*, but it's where I'm left alone." Virginia watched him dig into one of the bags, pull out an old blanket and throw it to her. "Nights are fresh kiddo, bundle up." Virginia looked at the blanket, several stains of food were scattered on it and it had some holes here and there. "You're... not scared I’ll rob you?" "Rob me of what? I have nothing to my name except my life. And even that ain't much," said the man, sounding tired and crawling in his little hideout. "Plus you're the one with questions so far. I don't think I'm in danger," He chuckled while taking off his shoes. Virginia stepped closer "You... don't have any? I mean, questions? About me?" The man sighted as he got ready to sleep "Girl, I bet you're not here because you chose to. And neither am I. That's all we need to know about each other." On this he turned away and laid down. Virginia returned to her little corner and bundled in the blanket. It was smelly. "But again, so will I... soon," she though while looking at the man one last time before falling asleep.

From then one this alley was her "home". The man's name was Akira, he had lost his own home after a villain and a hero fought a little too roughly and destroyed it. He taught Virginia all she needed while homeless: the soup kitchen days, the shops that were chill about homeless digging in their trash, the shops that weren't... Strangely, Virginia felt more and more comfortable next to Akira. He shared food and fabrics with her without asking questions. He also presented her to the homeless community; the most strange but tight-knit community. Everyone was helping you, all that was asked of you was to help in return for those who couldn't get by as easily as you could.

It's been 15 years, and she's the happiest she ever was. But not fully happy yet...

#bnha oc #bnha #rape cw #gorgon #snake #teeart #vespinna

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wonderfulworldofmichaelford · 5 years

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Psycho Analysis: Imhotep

(WARNING! This analysis contains SPOILERS!)

The Mummy movies are a lot of fun. Who could hate a young, charming Brendan Fraser having the time of his life fighting mummies and raiding tombs? Clearly this was a sign of a long, happy, trouble-free career for the man!

Oh, I’ve gone and made myself sad… let’s just cut right to it and talk about Imhotep.

Imhotep is the villain of the first two films of the series, and he really helps set the tone. Things get a lot less funny and a lot more darker whenever he’s on the scene, changing the tone from “fun, goofy Indiana Jones-esque romp” to a more overtly horror tone. This makes sense, seeing as he’s a soul-sucking undead monster based on one of the classic Universal monsters… but that’s really a very surface-level look at Imhotep. You see, unlike Ahmanet, the previous mummy covered on here, Imhotep has a real personality and motivations beyond being a simple villain hellbent on domination. In fact, Imhotep doesn’t want to conquer the world at all. He has a very simple, even sweet goal that makes him instantly relatable and tragic: all he wants is the woman he loves.

Actor: Arnold Vosloo plays Imhotep to perfection. He hits all the right villain notes whenever the scene calls for it: he can be scary, intimidating, badass, hammy, emotional, and even sexy. The last one’s a given when you spend a lot of the movie either shirtless or wearing a revealing robe, you know? I’m guessing one of the reasons the third movie failed so hard is because he wasn’t there to bring his own brand of awesomeness to the table, though I wouldn’t know because I’ve never watched the third film and like to pretend everything in the franchise ended happily after the first two films and there was nothing but Scorpion King spin-offs until the end of time.

Motivation/Goals: Imhotep is such an odd villain. Despite being a very powerful mystical being who could bring the world to its knees if he wished it, Imhotep is motivated solely by love. All he really wants is to be reunited with his lover Anck-Su-Namun, and he goes to great lengths to achieve this goal, lengths that do put him beyond the pale but also add a layer of tragedy to him.

The second film has him awakened by a cult to try and steal a supernatural army from Dwayne “The Scorpion King” Johnson, which ends up leading to him becoming far less sympathetic and a lot more cliche in terms of goals, though the romantic and sympathetic qualities are there still. They’re just now forced to share screentime with character traits that Imhotep didn’t really have in the first film, and while they don’t ruin him by any means and they help play into his ultimate tragedy, it just feels kind of sad they made Imhotep return and use him for a “take over the world” plot when his first outing had him really stand out as a villain in a big-budget action movie that didn’t have such a trite motive.

Personality: Imhotep is a pretty nice and friendly guy, for an ancient mummy. In the first film especially, he’s awful open about his plans to Beni and even keeps his word to him, and just in general he’s rather affable… unless, of course, you get in his way, in which case he will kill you without hesitation. He ends up dropping a lot of his more affable personality in the second film, which does come to bite him in the ass. It’s honestly pretty sad, because all that really ends up making him a villain is the manner in which he goes about his goals. Obviously bringing his loved one back would be a grim affair no matter what, but he goes way too far, with his desire to be with the woman he loves driving him to disturbing lengths to be back with her. In fact, the fact that he is such a loving man really plays into his ultimate tragedy, as he continuously suffers for love and in the end his suffering is rendered moot. Maybe villains who can’t comprehend love are better off after all.

Final Fate: In The Mummy Returns, Imhotep is clinging to a ledge and begs for his lover Anck-Su-Namun to save him. Instead, she flees, and Imhotep sees a similar situation happening with Rick and Evy; it ends exactly as you’d expect a dangerous situation with a protagonist couple to end in a cheesy adventure film. Imhotep looks to them with a look filled with jealousy and respect, and then lets go of the ledge, falling into the underworld. It’s a rather depressing and tragic fate that really highlights that for all the evil he did, Imhotep really only wanted to be with the woman he loved, and after all the pain and suffering he endured trying to make that happen, it ended up being all for nothing. It also ends up being ironic and karmic; throughout the film, he shows a lack of empathy for those serving under him, so it ends up being fitting the only person he cares about genuinely would leave him in his time of need.

Best Scene: Imhotep’s giant sandstorm from the first movie. It has become an iconic signature scene of the trilogy for a reason, after all.

Best Quote: So I didn’t exactly find a great quote from Imhotep himself on Wikiquote (my usual source), but I did find a quote from Arnold Vosloo himself that I think sums up Imhotep quite nicely:

“I’m so thankful that all that stuff made it to the screen, because a lot of the time studio executives say that there’s no time, or ask why we should feel sympathy for this bad guy. I joke that I’m the romantic lead in the movie, I just happened to pick the wrong girl. Imhotep is kind of the tragic villain, I guess, and a lot of people have come up to me and said I was hating you, but then I reach a point when I was feeling sorry for you too. It's those different facets that help explain why this film is such a success."

Final Thoughts & Score: For such a bunch of silly adventure films, they sure did go hard when it came to giving us a fantastic villain. Imhotep is, to be fair, not the most complex character in the world; I think being in a film like The Mummy kind of necessitates you being rather simple. But much like the movies he inhabits, he takes his simple concept and runs with it, elevating it into being something greater.

I love how he’s a villain not motivated by power, greed, or ambition, but a desperate desire to be with the person he loves most. In these sort of Indiana Jones-esque archaeological adventure films, you kind of expect to have the main villain or villains being motivated by greed, or power, or something to that effect, but here those motivations are relegated to side villains and our big bad is simply someone who really wants the girl he lived and died for in his arms again. It adds a layer of tragedy to Imhotep, which is only exacerbated in the sequel and then comes to his ultimate conclusion with his final death.

I think Imhotep really shines where a mummy like Princess Ahmanet ultimately failed: he has a clear, defined personality as well as a more relatable goal than “destroy the world.” As much as I enjoyed Princess Ahmanet from the reboot, my wife was right to point out in her guest spot on Psycho Analysis that her personality boils down to being ambitious and graceful, and not much else. Imhotep, on the other hand, shows a lot of emotion, even to his final look to Rick and Evy, which says so much without a single word being uttered. Ahmanet never really got moments like that, but that’s because she was stuck in a movie with an attention whore like Tom Cruise; Imhotep is in a movie with certified nice guy Brendan Fraser, so of course he’s gonna get his fair share of development.

IMHO Imhotep deserves nothing less than a 9/10. He’s the perfect villain for the cheesy fun of the first two Mummy movies, but he’s also something more, something richer than these movies deserved, and is emblematic of what made those movies so special and beloved: how, despite their flaws, there was just some magic there that allowed the films to rise above their simplistic popcorn action reimaginings of a classic monster movie to become something that even decades after the fact people still love and cherish to this day. The only thing holding him back from a perfect ten is the fact that the second film doesn’t do him quite as much justice; I have to say, the whole “world domination” thing looks better on an ambitious royal like Ahmanet than it does on a tragic romantic like Imhotep. Still, there’s no denying that Imhotep is a cool, fun villain for some cool, fun movies.

#Psycho Analysis #Imhotep #The Mummy #The Mummy Returns #Arnold Vosloo

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feaftlikeabeaft · 4 years

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hey so uh demon’s souls remake on ps5 huh

what a concept

I was typing this as a comment on a YouTube video comparing the original to shots from the trailer for the remake, but I thought why not write it up as a blog post so I can inflict my nerdiness more directly on strangers on the internet and even a handful of friends? Sounds like a great idea to me.

Spoilers: I am cautiously hopeful that the trailer isn’t exactly what the final game looks like. I'm not fully sold on the look of the remake. Obviously things can change between then and now but it seems like they've completely changed the colour palette of the original. The original had this grimy yellow palette while the new one has a soft blue one. It remains to be seen what the full game really looks like but so far the amount I like vs what I dislike is pretty much 50/50 at this point. I hope they only improve from here.

I’ll be writing this as a commentary to this video here with timestamps, so click here to follow along. Credit to the creator of the video, ElAnalistaDeBits, for compiling these images.

0:17 The opening area looks pretty good imo, they've lost the griminess but they've created an atmosphere reminiscent of the soul-devouring fog mentioned in the opening of the game. Lots of the concept art they used in that opening has this kind of colour palette, so that at least is welcome.

1:03 I also like the corridor of the Boletarian Palace. It looks filthy and abandoned, just like it should be, with more detail that will surely be very immersive in the final game.

1:46 The Tower Knight, however, I am less a fan of. It looks like it's brand new, as do the flags and banners on the battlements. I don't think this is the vibe that makes the most sense for this scene, as the palace is meant to have fallen to the demons already. The colours are simple and pop out cartoonishly which gives the area the look of a toy set.

2:31 I also really dislike Flamelurker's new design. With those big horns it looks like a generic demon, like the Iron King (from Dark Souls II)'s little brother. The original had those weird stretched and broken lips that at least gave it a more unique face. I really hope they go back to the original design.

2:50 The shots we get from the opening cinematic I also think miss the mark. The lighting is a bit generic and don't convey the atmosphere of the original that felt like you were looking into a faded old memory. This one's just too crisp and pretty. Hopefully in the final version they put some filters over it and sort the lighting out so it doesn't look quite so artificial.

Also, the hanging corpse put on some weight! Good for them, they looked kind of sickly before. Sadly, their newfound health somewhat takes away from the creepiness of the scene and doesn’t sell the idea that this person was killed by having their soul sucked out of their body. It looks more like they were simply murdered via mundane means like tooth or claw which is less evocative.

4:39 The Storm King, on the other hand, looks awesome. I love the weather effects selling it as a truly magnificent and powerful being.

5:05 The Vanguard looks ok. Something about the design is less scary to me. I think it's in the eyes and the texture of the skin, it's a little generic. Somehow being less goofy also make it less unsettling. Seeing the demon on the left spooks me, while the one on the right doesn’t really evoke much in me emotionally because I’ve seen monsters like it a million times before.

5:49 The Boletarian Palace (I think?) looks pretty good, it's definitely a different vibe from the original but not in a bad way. I think the team must have taken inspiration from the idea of the blue fog in the original concept art.

7:13 I strongly dislike the way they've remastered the Dragon God's roar. It looks really boring to me while the original packs so much creepiness and fear. The way the teeth extend and rattle with the DG's roar in the original is both awesome and scary, while the new one goes over the top with the glowing eyes and mouth, plus the camera angle makes the DG look small somehow.

7:54 The scythe-wielding enemy and the environment its in looks good, although I'm not a fan of the change to green glow over white. I’m also sad that they dropped the spooky glowing eyes. Although they were a little goofy, they were also unsettling and did their job of conveying some intelligence behind this being. The new one seems a little soulless, nopunintendo.

8:25 The comparison of the skeleton enemy here is misleading as one is a pre-rendered cutscene and the other is seemingly in a moment of actual gameplay. Still, from what I can see it looks good.

9:04 The gargoyles look... fine. They've swapped the weird shrunken flesh of the originals for ornate stone which does make sense for them since they're gargoyles, but it makes them look less creepy and monstrous. The Player Character also looks less convincingly shocked than the original. The original is like “woah, what the fuck!?” while the new one is like “hmmm this seems a little suspect”.

And that’s all I have to say on that! Overall I have mixed feelings but I also cautious optimism that they’ll take the game in a new direction while remaining faithful to the original. I think what they’ve going for is a stronger adherence to the original concept art which could be neat. The remake could end up being what Fromsoft wanted to make back in 2009 but couldn’t due to the limitations of technology of the time. If so, I’m sure the remake will have something for new players and veterans alike! Hopefully they don’t go too far in scrubbing the game’s environments of the grime, I think anyone whose played Demon’s Souls, Dark Souls, or Bloodborne will be able to tell you that a nice layer of grime really sells the atmosphere that Fromsoft like to portray.

#demon's souls #demon's souls remake #demon's souls remaster #my thoughts #i won't be buying a PS5 just for DeSR but i do hope enough good games come out on it to warrant the purchase so i can play it at some point

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douxreviews · 5 years

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Star Trek: Discovery - ‘The Sound of Thunder’ Review

Saru: "Perhaps in being less like you were, you are becoming more like you are meant to be."

By nature I love brevity: Now that's what I call... a serviceable action story with a few plot holes and a few decent character moments. Some promise, and a twist I didn't see coming.

A while back, in my review for the Short Trek 'The Brightest Star,' I complained that the writers clearly had a lot that they wanted to do with Kaminar, the Kelpiens, and the Ba'ul, and that they'd tried to shove more into the episode than would really fit. As 'The Sound of Thunder' began, I steeled myself for a repeat of that; I wasn't sure that the writers would be able to rein in their excitement at the species and character that they had created enough to write a story that was manageable. It turns out I needn't have worried about that. The hour runtime was plenty to tell the story they wanted to tell and communicate the things they wanted to communicate.

The thing is, this episode made it abundantly clear to me just how little we needed 'The Brightest Star,' and just how unuseful the developments in it were. 'Thunder' contains a good deal of shots that were directly taken from 'Star,' and all of the major reveals about Saru and his people, as well as all of the plot developments, were reiterated here. Of course this is for the benefit of the people who haven't seen the Short Treks, but it rendered even the scant things that 'The Brighest Star' accomplished entirely moot.

'Thunder' is a fairly by-the-numbers action story. Its plot contains a few rather basic twists and reveals, and the suspense is built well. I like that the reigning - and most obvious - theory, that the Ba'ul are the evolved Kelpiens, turned out not to be the case at all. DIS has a pretty bad track record as far as keeping its plot developments secret goes, so a good surprise when the audience expects something else is nice to see.

The Ba'ul were a decently effective enemy; their appearance was pretty scary and their fear of the Kelpiens made for a believable motivation. They reminded me and the viewers I watched this with of Armus from TNG's 'Skin of Evil,' The major problem was that the Ba'ul voices, especially over subspace on the bridge, were nearly impossible to understand. I'm all for creepy atmosphere, but maybe run their voices through a lighter modulator next time.

I was rather pleased with Saru in this episode. I liked that he became emotionally unable to handle the situation, especially after the loss of his ganglia back in 'An Obol for Charon.' That sort of a change, especially when his ganglia have been shown to have a profound effect on his emotions in the past, would definitely alter his ability to control himself. I liked his interactions with his sister, which were of course well acted by Doug Jones and Hannah Spear. Saru and Siranna had a much deeper and more interesting relationship in this episode than it was in 'Star,' due to the added layer of Saru's departure. That's not a stock relationship, and the fact that Siranna took over for her father in the hopes that it might lead her back to him makes it emotionally deep.

There was a really great scene early on in the episode, with the newly rejuvenated Culber, Saru, and Stamets in sickbay. We got an insight, albeit a small one, into what it's like for Hugh to return after his consciousness spent so much time trapped in the mycelial network. He doesn't feel like the same man that he was when he died. His new body, identical to his old one but still completely different, reflects how he feels inside. Hugh can't reconcile his new self with the old, even though very little is actually different. Though Stamets truly wants to help and to support his partner, he can't do so tangibly because he has no clear idea what Hugh is going through. Saru, on the other hand, has in a way also been recently reborn. This gives them a connection that I didn't expect to see but was glad I did. This scene proves to me that the show is definitely going to explore Culber's return in a way that's meaningful to his character. I'm really happy about that because in the first season his character was only really used in ways that serviced Stamets'. If they give him his own arc here, I'll be very, very pleased. And of course, both he and Stamets are miles ahead of characters on other shows who are 'the gay guy' and nothing more.

I'm not so pleased with the resolution, specifically the use of the Red Angel in this episode. It was quite the deus ex machina - is it angelus ex machina here? - to have the Angel step in at the very end to stop the Ba'ul's plan and save the Kelpiens. Except it isn't even angelus ex machina, since the Angel is nothing even close to a supernatural being. After all this discussion and exploration of faith, the main symbol in this show of something people put their faith in is nothing more than a guy in a suit with some advanced technology? That's about as disappointing as this show has gotten. Despite my misgivings about how this show has handled faith and belief, I really have appreciated the fact that it did so. Besides, the way that it's handled these topics has been better than many shows, and the individual episodes have said some things worth saying even if the show as a whole has yet to settle on a particular approach. But this is a big let-down.

Strange New Worlds:

We've already been to Kaminar, in 'The Brightest Star,' but DIS in its main form hasn't visited it yet.

New Life and New Civilizations:

The Ba'ul are new to this show. I've already talked about most of my thoughts regarding them.

Pensees:

-Okay, enough with the tricky camera movements without purpose already. To direct well, you don't just have to know how to make flashy shots, you also have to understand when to do it and what it does to the scene when you do.

-They mentioned the Prime Directive, but it really didn't factor in as much as might have been appropriate. This show should start being a little more careful with the way it sidesteps the PD to tell its stories.

-Those Ba'ul ships were pretty dang intimidating, like something you'd see from the Borg.

-How did Saru transport himself to the planet when the ship was at Red Alert and the shields were up?

-Okay, so SuperSaru! was kind of cool. But he's quite lucky that the Ba'ul stronghold contained only about eight drones.

-I like Burnham's white t-shirt in this episode. How much you want to bet that shows up for sale on startrek.com within the week?

-Pike's slight peace offering to Tyler in Saru's report didn't feel earned. I haven't been invested in their conflict yet.

-The answer to fear is hope in this episode. I like that.

-Next week: SPOOOOOCK!

Quotes:

Saru: "We all come from somewhere. We bring that place with us wherever we go. That never leaves our hearts. Not entirely."

Pike: "We can stretch General Order One, but let's not break it in the process." Too late.

Saru: "For 18 years, I dreamt of returning to my village. It has not changed at all, but I see it quite differently now."

Siranna: "Return to the stars, Saru. There is no place for you here."

Siranna: "Your face is beautiful to me. Part of me hoped I would never see it again, because it might mean you were free."

Competent but not exceptional. 4 out of 6 heavily modulated voices.

Star Trek fandom runs very deep in CoramDeo's family.

#Star Trek #Star Trek Discovery #Michael Burnham #Saru #Sylvia Tilly #Paul Stamets #Hugh Culber #Christopher Pike #Ash Tyler #Disco #Star Trek Reviews #Doux Reviews #TV Reviews

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soft-simmer · 5 years

Text

This is how i edit my screenshots (CAS edition)

What you need:

CAS Overhaul v2 (Render lighting) *everything you need is in that post*

CAS Trait poses (sometimes i make my own but not in this)

Photoshop CS5 (for the fun parts)

after we finish cc-shopping *and putting the files in the right folders*

we now click on this little old guy here

and now we wait 10-15 min till the game starts, because

*airhorn playing in the background*

when the game is finally loaded i click new game

and load my the sim i want to edit or make a new one

i want a new icon for my tumblr so i go for my tatanie my fav sim guuurl

now I put her in some new clothes hair etc

now comes the fun part i take way to many screenshots (yes i use the ingame camera sue me)

after i did that i save the household and quite the game and open photoshop

now i open the screenshot folder and choose one of the 100000000x screens i took

that’s the one i will be editing

step 1: remove the white background.

i double click on the layer till this pops up and click okay

then I click on the white with the magic wand tool and then i hit the x key on my keyboard

step 2: LIQUIFY THE FRICK OUT OF IT ( not really but close)

and here you can do some magic

play around but don’t go to overboard. it should like kind of look “natural” right? ;D

i gave her a little smile, arched her right eyebrow and worked a bit on her hair and tataa you finished step 2 :D

Step 3: Smudge the lines

i click on the little finger thingy

you see this line underneath her lip. my graphic card caused it and i am too lazy to re-install the plugin every 2 sec. So i use the smudge tool and

lines begone!

Step 4: Topaz the things

this are my settings feel free to use them if you like :D

when you done this add a white background again

Step 5: HIGHLIGHT and SHADOWS ( my worst enemy)

MANY THANKS TO @dear-solar because he gave me some tips ya know!!!

i add a new layer, set it so soft light and let it at 100% so i can see where i put the highlight

the brush also is only on 70% opacity

in the end, it looks like something like this. After that, i take the smudge tool again and smooth the edges over. Then i set the opacity of the layer to something around 39% but its always different ya know hahaha.

looking fresh ma guuuurl

now to the shadows, again create a new layer, set it to soft light and set the opacity to 70% and take the brush tool again this time using black

you put black everywhere where the shadows are. play around with the opacity i put 52% i know i know it looks scary but we are not finished yet

Step 6: ADJUSTMENT LAYERS ARE HERE TO SAVE THIS

now i add all the adjustment layers, so it does not look like this anymore?

some smooth curves

some vibrance

and my favorite selective colors

step 7: finishing this to make it look better?

now we go back to our background layer and play around with layer styles

already looking better

put some layer styles on the main guuuuurl

cropping it to that it fits ( and we cut most of our work away that’s okay you can skip this step if you just want an edit ;D)

some light sizing

and last but not least some smart sharping AND I AM DONE

i hope you enjoyed this leave a like, subsribble and leave and ask ;D

#tutorial #the sims 4 #my edits #how i edit my cas pictures #my sims

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caveatauditor · 5 years

Text

Best singles of 2018

As long as I can find inane novelty songs to play on loop a billion times, there is hope in the world.

1. Cardi B, Bad Bunny & J Balvin, “I Like It”

The problem with Invasion of Privacy, Cardi B’s whirlwind tour of every current hip-hop radio style, is that she’s simply better at some styles than others--fewer Chance duets, more Latin trap, please! She peaks with “I Like It”, a trap-salsa monster that earned its coronation as song of the summer; it was a pleasure to hear, overhear, and over-hear everywhere. By sampling Pete Rodriguez’s old-school boogaloo hit, she and her Spanglophone buddies imagine a diaspora-wide block party that stretches across dimensions of space and time. When the snare drum imitates the dizzy spin of the salsa horn (initially, at 0:07), “I Like It” demonstrates that certain rhythms can cross instrumental, stylistic, and cultural boundaries. Globalization is scary but genre-fucking is fantastic.

2. Rae Sremmurd & Juicy J, “Powerglide”

While the blankly pretty Swae Lee murmurs through his boyish Auto-Tune filter, Mike Will fashions a smooth, acrobatic beat, replete with key changes. The synthesized strings evoke a slow-motion car chase in the rain, parkour at night, an ideal of perfect stylized motion. It takes years of practice to achieve such athletic precision.

3. Doja Cat, “Mooo!”

To claim “Bitch I’m a cow/bitch I’m a cow/I’m not a cat, I don’t say meow” is to express a desire for one figurative sexual boast to replace another in hip-hop’s complex metaphor system, and the laid-back neosoul beat suits Doja Cat’s insouciance.

4. iLoveFriday, “Mia Khalifa”

Here’s the backstory behind this: a fake Twitter account impersonating Mia Khalifa, the retired porn star, dissed Smoke Hijabi, one half of the emo-rap duo iLoveFriday, previously best known for their successful vlog series. Unaware that the account did not represent the real Mia Khalifa, she and Auto-Tuned moaner Xeno Carr recorded a diss track in which they accuse her of various obscenities, although none as egregious as the needling whine of their voices. The amateurish flatness of Smoke Hijabi’s delivery in the second verse was the most obnoxious and glorious noise I heard all year. When people talk about the radical potential of the internet to change life and art, this is what they mean.

5. Fromis_9, “Love Bomb”

The plinky arpeggios, the sampled vocal sputter, the candied synth confetti, the constantly accelerating drum machine, and the giant chorus zooming irrepressibly into the sky render the kind of rush that is immediate and visceral. I aspire to have feelings as intense as those evidently experienced by Korean girl-group singers. Infatuation--who are you?

6. Khalid, Ty Dolla $ign & 6lack, “OTW”

Internet acronyms in pop songs imply distance, from Kelela’s “LMK” to Khalid’s “OTW”. The abstraction of language suggests an underlying anxiety about communication, especially when mediated by virtual/digital reality; the feints and dodges that proliferate when two people are trying to figure out what the other is thinking, already an essential pop subject, are thus heightened by yet another layer of technological distance. “OTW” is a musical rendition of Zeno’s paradox, a car song that doubles as a communication song: Khalid promises, in his sweet murmured baritone, that he’s on the way, but he never arrives, as the song keeps him frozen in perpetual transition. The bouncy shimmery beat mirrors the melancholy in his voice and the smoothness of his ride, as he roams the city looking for his beloved in the streetlights. If they don’t connect, it’s okay--he likes to drive.

7. DJ Snake, Cardi B, Ozuna & Selena Gomez, “Taki Taki”

In the eight or so years that he’s been a pop presence, I’ve seen no evidence that DJ Snake is a real person, rather than the anthropomorphized EDM zeitgeist--he’s gone from stupid headbanger drops to diluted reggaeton to moist trophouse gush as if engaged in the Billboard Hot 100 equivalent of insider trading. Now he’s apparently a Latin trap producer. Cool! “Taki Taki” kicks into gear with a whistled synth hook so pleasurably and painfully squeaky you long for it to repeat throughout the entire song, and indeed it does, as the cadre of stars, brought together by a shared fondness for harsh synthesizers, compete to outswagger each other. Each hears the hook and imagines a different song--Ozuna’s is lithe and chirpy, Cardi’s jumpy and aggressive, Selena’s whispered and sensual. The sum of such parts is a multivalent contraption that unites and celebrates a plethora of sensibilities. Ozuna is the glue, but Cardi is the firebomb.

8. Karol G, “Mi Cama”

Bed spring sound effects were apparently a thing this year--Karol G’s “Mi Cama” and EXO’s “Tempo” were two excellent pop hits in which creaky beds give the singers away, recorded on opposite sides of the globe. While the pingponging keyboards that accompany the creaking in “Mi Cama” are supposed to be erotic, they also sound creepy, like music that might play when a bunch of cackling munchkins in clown makeup scare you in a haunted house. I’ve hummed this song in nightmares.

9. Kylie Minogue, “Stop Me From Falling”

Kylie Minogue does country-disco right because she understands that all the best country-disco hits elongate the English high back rounded vowel. It’s quite simply the best vowel to belt, to exclaim, to sing along with (imagine if Taylor Swift had instead been twenty-threeeeeeee-eeee-eeee). “Stop me from falling,” she begs, but it’s too late, the soaring chorus has already taken off: the sweetly inevitable “for youuuuuuuuu,” over rosy keyboards and synthetic banjo. In a year when much of the best country cultivated a sense of displacement, of being a sparrow uprooted from the nest, I treasured Kylie’s playful crossover moves for the tension between traditionalism and novelty.

10. Da Pump, “USA”

Here’s the backstory behind this: an aging Japanese boy band, not having recorded for four years, decided to score a modest comeback single by covering an obscure Italian Eurobeat song from 1992, and were promptly shocked when the song became a massive hit and the song of the summer in Japan. They should have known better: you can’t just release a song with the hook “Come on baby, America”, punctuated by skittering retro synthesizers and braggadocious chants of “USA! USA!”, and expect people not to notice, now can you?

#favorite songs #best of 2018 #cardi b #rae sremmurd #doja cat

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dandelliongirl · 5 years

Text

Final stretch

of January.

Holy damn it’s been a long month. 5 weeks! It’s really hard to wait for spring and summer because I’m really looking forward to my new summer house being finished and getting to furnish it. ♥

We started our 2019 by visiting my guy’s grandparents for his grandpa’s 80th birthday. It was really nice seeing my guy’s cousins from his mum’s side and get to hang out with my guy’s whole family as well. Usually one or more of them are missing so this time it was all of us together. We played board games and ate so much tasty food. I’m going as vegan as possible (excluding the occasional dairy and eggs) and trying to avoid wheat so it was a bit of a struggle but I’m proud of how well I did. The roads were very icy on our way there and our car did a 180 at one point but nothing bad happened and we got to change lanes safely. Both me and my guy got a really bad flu right after Christmas break ended that took us both out for almost 2 weeks.

On the 10th of January my new sleeping cottage was finally transported to our summer house. It was such an exciting Thursday that focusing at work was really difficult and I kept refreshing my email for any updates from the process. Everything went well and they managed to lower the cottage on the foundation safely despite the crazy amounts of snow and trees bent over the road. Waiting until Saturday to go see it in person was really difficult but it was so worth it! It was the sunniest and nicest day and everything looked gorgeous. ☼ The new cottage is the cutest and most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen and the forest around looked magical with all the snow covering the trees.

We had a campfire going and did some cleanup from after the construction workers. We baked delicious treats on the campfire and had coffee/warm berry juice. I never wanted to leave.. ♥ All of Sunday I felt really irritated and depressed from seeing so much beauty in one day, but it was worth the beauty-hangover. Now I just have to have patience to wait until March/April for the snow to melt. They’re going to fix some damage done during the transportation, finish building the porch on site and finish work inside. I’ve already started to shop for furniture and written a list of things I need to buy for my new house! I really hope for a sunny summer...

Last weekend me and my friend finally got to continue my photography project. Photography makes me so incredibly happy and bringing out my camera for the first time in months got me super inspired. I’ve been watching a lot of Irene Rudnyk’s videos on YouTube and it is really inspiring to see that a lot of the techniques that I’ve learned over the years through trial and error are also used by actual professional photographers. Even though her style of portrait photography isn’t what I personally prefer her videos have taught me a lot about posing my model and looking for good angles as well as a bunch of useful photoshop and retouch tricks. Anyway my firend was dressed as a Little Red Riding Hood-ish character with a red velvet cape that I pinned on her with safety pins, and we went to a snowy forest to shoot some really cute photos. I started editing them last night and I’m hoping to finish today. I was also inspired to re-edit the results of our last photoshoot and I’ve done a lot more planning for future ones. It’s just probably going to take until July-ish. Another thing that I have to be patient and wait for.. Hopefully I’ll get a chance to shoot other photos in the meantime. I’m definitely wanting to carry my camera with me a lot more as I’ve been lazy and very married to my phone camera lately. I didn’t buy a 500€ camera to keep it in the camera bag - especially when taking photos with an actual camera gets me feeling this alive and inspired. ♥

Work has been going well as per usual. We’ve had a chill month before the craziness of trainings and technical help starts in February/March, and I’ve been enjoying my long lunch breaks, crossword puzzles and Animal Crossing Pocket Camp.

This past week has been really cold and putting on several layers of ski-pants and thick coats many times a day takes an effort. Because of the -15 to -22 Celsius weathers I also haven’t been able to go skiing at all. On the plus side everything looks beautiful.☼ It’s this time of the year that makes winter worth it even though I’m always cold. Since it’s around midsummer on the southern hemisphere oranges are really tasty this time of year and that’s what I always look forward to.

So we’re 26 days into 2019 and still have no news on Animal Crossing for the Switch. ANOTHER thing to wait patiently for.. It really seems like time’s CRAWLING forward. I’ve been listening to a lot of ACNL hourly music (my favourites are probably 8pm, 1am, 3am and 8am) and imagining what the new game might bring... I just really hope that it’s good and won’t be a nightmare of microtransactions, paid online services and an integration into ACPC that renders amiibo useless. It’s both exciting and scary to wait for information to drop.

I finally signed up for graduation this May. Mum and grandmum are both working on my skirt, shirt and jacket and it feels so special having these important women create my outfit from scratch. We got a really cute jacket pattern and made a test version that looked really nice. I can’t wait to see the outfit come together. I’m also really hoping that my friend’s boyfriend signs up for graduation as well so that the four of us can go to the dinner dance together. It would be a lot of fun. Dance rehearsals start in a few weeks.

I’m going to continue photo editing and in the afternoon I’m doing my guy’s sister’s hair for a fancy event she has tonight. I’ll get to see my dear bunny friend again for the first time in almost a year. ♥ My guy is out of town for the weekend so I’m trying to get everything that requires my PC done. We’ve been playing the Witcher III basically whenever both of us are at home and that means my PC is occupied on most days. My guy goes side questing and plays gwent whenever I’m not home, and I join him for any interesting and/or main story missions. It’s a good system because I still can’t really relate to Geralt and am not that immersed into the world. It’s like starting Mass Effect 3 with someone else’s Shepard. Speaking of BioWare, the Anthem VIP demo dropped - as did EA:s servers. This doesn’t bode well for #TheDreadWolfRises but let’s hope people have a short memory and Anthem sells well despite this hickup...

Waiting (patiently) for springtime... ☼

#personal #diary #January2019 #memories

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