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#i can't fucking draw without references
spellshite · 2 years
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I saw @marsoid 's car gijinka prompt on my dash a couple of times and after thinking a bit, I might have come up with a concept? ...if you can call a shitty sketch and a lot of ramblings a character concept, ofc.
I had no idea for the car's name since I mostly call it "tin can/clown car/claptrap/piece of junk" (affectionately, 7 out of 10 times) so, in the end I went with "Rusty" because...idk it seemed that matched the nicknames.
I need to try redoing it ditigally bc my art skills suck a lot if I can't use some refs for anatomy and pose...but rn it's too hot to stay at the pc & also I'm going to work in like less than hour and half?
So, I guess that for now I can only share this shitty car gijinka concept lmao sorry in advance for making your eyes bleed with this shitty drawing.
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Title(?) and main blurb on the side:
"Rusty" [2nd hand Citroen C1 from 2011 I have since 2012]
RUSTY [any pronouns]
Dresses like an emo skater from the '90s or early 2000s (bc it's paint is gunmetal grey so-)
Head empty, no thoughts
Likes steering on 2 wheels
Gears? I don't know 'em (bc shift stick gets stuck easily)
A bit of a country boy
Stinky: washes once in a blue moon
Likes the Cars movie unironically
Kins ClapTrap from Borderlands
Shortie
Has a personal (and one-sided) beef with the 40/ bus
Has more scratches than braincells
Likes to speed up to pass powerful cars
And to go slow when other cars stick too close behind them
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godforg1veme · 2 months
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FUCKED UP how I can't post art on this account
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morningmask27 · 5 months
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I want to fucking draw, but I can't overexert my hand right now in case it gets bad again
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ranger-kellyn · 1 year
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ah hell it's "you have a fucking ART DEGREE why aren't you better at art"-o clock
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suuuupernovaaa · 10 months
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Clean | Hobie Brown x f!Reader
You got yourself into a little bit of a fight, and Hobie has to patch you up.
Mature. 18+. Mention of blood.
The cloth meets your tender skin, and you hiss and try to pull your hand away.
"Hobie, that hurts," you say through gritted teeth. "What is on that?"
Holding your hand tightly to your chest, as if to protect it from him, you look up to see an exasperated expression on his face.
"Stuff to clean it. Give me that back." He grabs your hand a little gruffly, and puts the cloth back on. When the sting subsides, it does feel nice and cool.
"Someone out to teach you how to throw a proper punch," Hobie says, dabbing the cloth gently, moving it up your arm to where your other scrapes are. None of them are terribly deep, except a slight gash on your thigh from, you think, falling onto some broken glass.
"I know how," you reply quietly. He moves to your other arm, and you feel the stinging again. "It wasn't much punching, anyway. It was like... clawing and shoving. It was chaotic."
He gives you your hands back, and looks down at your legs, noticing the cut on your thigh. He lets a whistle out from between his teeth, and stands up. He rinses out the cloth he's been using, and grabs a new one from his kitchen drawer. He puts more 'stuff' on it, and returns to you, sitting down.
"This is gonna hurt." He scoots close, so that your legs are between his, and without another warning, presses the cloth to your cut.
"Oh crap!" you shout, and you're annoyed when Hobie starts chuckling.
"Oh crap!" he mimics in a high-pitched voice, meant to resemble yours. He places a large bandage on your leg, and a couple others on cuts that look a little nastier on your arms, and then sits back. "Think you'll survive," he comments. "Now, you need to tell me why you were in a fight. Looked like a couple of cats in a bag when I arrived."
You turn away, looking from where you sit at his kitchen table over to the TV, which is showing the news. Hobie always has the news on, even though he hates it and everything they ever talk about.
"It just, escalated. She was a fan, I guess, of the band. And she asked if I knew you, and I said yes. And she said... some not nice things. She was just drunk."
You're his whore, then? Do you think I could get in on some of that? I'm sure he's not very picky. I mean, look at you.
You can feel the way she grabbed at your stomach, pinching it. It felt like something scripted out of a bad teen movie, except it was really happening, and she just wouldn't stop.
"What did she say?" Hobie asks. When you look back at him, he's leaned forward, eyes narrowed, lips pursed.
"It doesn't really matter. It's over."
"It matters to me."
You shake your head and wave your hand in the air, as if to dismiss the conversation. "Really, Hobie. It was just, I don't want to relive it."
He reaches out and places a warm hand on your bruised knee. "Tell me."
You roll your eyes and sigh. "She said like, I must be, uh, sleeping with you and your standards must be low because... I'm like, fat, or whatever."
Hobie sits up, his back straight as a board, his eyebrows raised and his jaw a little slack. "And you beat the shit out of her?"
You draw your line into a straight mouth and nod. "Sort of. I mean, I can't fight but, she was bleeding and crying at the end of it. I was bleeding too but, I wasn't crying."
He nods, as if in approval. "Why does she think we're sleeping together?" he asked. "She's seen you, at a show or something?"
"I didn't get a whole backstory, Hobie. I guess so."
"Hm." He leans back, crossing his arms over his chest. "Must've noticed how I look at you. Everyone has. 'Cept you."
How Hobie looks at you? You try to think of what he could be referring to. Sometimes when he's on stage, he finds you in the crowd and smiles. But, you're good friends, so that doesn't seem all that exciting to you - does it seem that way to everyone else?
"How do you look at me?"
"Like I'd like to fuck you, Y/N. Like the shape of your body is all I can think about, and it really doesn't fucking matter what anyone else thinks about it. It fucking keeps me up at night."
It feels like you've been slapped in the chest, and all the air has left your lungs. Your mouth is instantly dry, and your legs feel weak.
Hobie is so dry, so even-toned, it's hard to tell if he's joking or not - but would that be a funny joke right now? Hobie is a lot of things, but he's not insensitive, and he certainly wouldn't try to hurt you on purpose.
"It does?" you ask finally.
He leans forward again, bringing his face just a few inches from yours. "I want you, Y/N. I thought I'd made it obvious, but now I see, I didn't."
You lick your bottom lip, and Hobie glances down at your mouth.
"Can I kiss you?" you ask, and a soft moan escapes his mouth, as if asking for permission turns him on. You feel his fingertips on your cheek, running upwards, until he cups your face in his hand.
You should close your eyes, you think, but the sight of him coming towards you is the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. His soft brown eyes, his full lips, his sharp cheek bones, his glistening piercings; you want to remember every sharp edge and round corner.
He pauses, just before your lips meet and whispers, "Anything you want to do to me, you can."
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eyrieofsynapses · 5 months
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why Aurora's art is genius
It's break for me, and I've been meaning to sit down and read the Aurora webcomic (https://comicaurora.com/, @comicaurora on Tumblr) for quite a bit. So I did that over the last few days.
And… y'know. I can't actually say "I should've read this earlier," because otherwise I would've been up at 2:30-3am when I had responsibilities in the morning and I couldn't have properly enjoyed it, but. Holy shit guys THIS COMIC.
I intended to just do a generalized "hello this is all the things I love about this story," and I wrote a paragraph or two about art style. …and then another. And another. And I realized I needed to actually reference things so I would stop being too vague. I was reading the comic on my tablet or phone, because I wanted to stay curled up in my chair, but I type at a big monitor and so I saw more details… aaaaaand it turned into its own giant-ass post.
SO. Enjoy a few thousand words of me nerding out about this insanely cool art style and how fucking gorgeous this comic is? (There are screenshots, I promise it isn't just a wall of text.) In my defense, I just spent two semesters in graphic design classes focusing on the Adobe Suite, so… I get to be a nerd about pretty things…???
All positive feedback btw! No downers here. <3
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I cannot emphasize enough how much I love the beautiful, simple stylistic method of drawing characters and figures. It is absolutely stunning and effortless and utterly graceful—it is so hard to capture the sheer beauty and fluidity of the human form in such a fashion. Even a simple outline of a character feels dynamic! It's gorgeous!
Though I do have a love-hate relationship with this, because my artistic side looks at that lovely simplicity, goes "I CAN DO THAT!" and then I sit down and go to the paper and realize that no, in fact, I cannot do that yet, because that simplicity is born of a hell of a lot of practice and understanding of bodies and actually is really hard to do. It's a very developed style that only looks simple because the artist knows what they're doing. The human body is hard to pull off, and this comic does so beautifully and makes it look effortless.
Also: line weight line weight line weight. It's especially important in simplified shapes and figures like this, and hoo boy is it used excellently. It's especially apparent the newer the pages get—I love watching that improvement over time—but with simpler figures and lines, you get nice light lines to emphasize both smaller details, like in the draping of clothing and the curls of hair—which, hello, yes—and thicker lines to emphasize bigger and more important details and silhouettes. It's the sort of thing that's essential to most illustrations, but I wanted to make a note of it because it's so vital to this art style.
THE USE OF LAYER BLENDING MODES OH MY GODS. (...uhhh, apologies to the people who don't know what that means, it's a digital art program thing? This article explains it for beginners.)
Bear with me, I just finished my second Photoshop course, I spent months and months working on projects with this shit so I see the genius use of Screen and/or its siblings (of which there are many—if I say "Screen" here, assume I mean the entire umbrella of Screen blending modes and possibly Overlay) and go nuts, but seriously it's so clever and also fucking gorgeous:
Firstly: the use of screened-on sound effect words over an action? A "CRACK" written over a branch and then put on Screen in glowy green so that it's subtle enough that it doesn't disrupt the visual flow, but still sticks out enough to make itself heard? Little "scritches" that are transparent where they're laid on without outlines to emphasize the sound without disrupting the underlying image? FUCK YES. I haven't seen this done literally anywhere else—granted, I haven't read a massive amount of comics, but I've read enough—and it is so clever and I adore it. Examples:
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Secondly: The beautiful lighting effects. The curling leaves, all the magic, the various glowing eyes, the fog, the way it's all so vividly colored but doesn't burn your eyeballs out—a balance that's way harder to achieve than you'd think—and the soft glows around them, eeeee it's so pretty so pretty SO PRETTY. Not sure if some of these are Outer/Inner Glow/Shadow layer effects or if it's entirely hand-drawn, but major kudos either way; I can see the beautiful use of blending modes and I SALUTE YOUR GENIUS.
I keep looking at some of this stuff and go "is that a layer effect or is it done by hand?" Because you can make some similar things with the Satin layer effect in Photoshop (I don't know if other programs have this? I'm gonna have to find out since I won't have access to PS for much longer ;-;) that resembles some of the swirly inner bits on some of the lit effects, but I'm not sure if it is that or not. Or you could mask over textures? There's... many ways to do it.
If done by hand: oh my gods the patience, how. If done with layer effects: really clever work that knows how to stop said effects from looking wonky, because ugh those things get temperamental. If done with a layer of texture that's been masked over: very, very good masking work. No matter the method, pretty shimmers and swirly bits inside the bigger pretty swirls!
Next: The way color contrast is used! I will never be over the glowy green-on-black Primordial Life vibes when Alinua gets dropped into that… unconscious space?? with Life, for example, and the sharp contrast of vines and crack and branches and leaves against pitch black is just visually stunning. The way the roots sink into the ground and the three-dimensional sensation of it is particularly badass here:
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Friggin. How does this imply depth like that. HOW. IT'S SO FREAKING COOL.
A huge point here is also color language and use! Everybody has their own particular shade, generally matching their eyes, magic, and personality, and I adore how this is used to make it clear who's talking or who's doing an action. That was especially apparent to me with Dainix and Falst in the caves—their colors are both fairly warm, but quite distinct, and I love how this clarifies who's doing what in panels with a lot of action from both of them. There is a particular bit that stuck out to me, so I dug up the panels (see this page and the following one https://comicaurora.com/aurora/1-20-30/):
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(Gods it looks even prettier now that I put it against a plain background. Also, appreciation to Falst for managing a bridal-carry midair, damn.)
The way that their colors MERGE here! And the immense attention to detail in doing so—Dainix is higher up than Falst is in the first panel, so Dainix's orange fades into Falst's orange at the base. The next panel has gold up top and orange on bottom; we can't really tell in that panel where each of them are, but that's carried over to the next panel—
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—where we now see that Falst's position is raised above Dainix's due to the way he's carrying him. (Points for continuity!) And, of course, we see the little "huffs" flowing from orange to yellow over their heads (where Dainix's head is higher than Falst's) to merge the sound of their breathing, which is absurdly clever because it emphasizes to the viewer how we hear two sets of huffing overlaying each other, not one. Absolutely brilliant.
(A few other notes of appreciation to that panel: beautiful glows around them, the sparks, the jagged silhouette of the spider legs, the lovely colors that have no right to make the area around a spider corpse that pretty, the excellent texturing on the cave walls plus perspective, the way Falst's movements imply Dainix's hefty weight, the natural posing of the characters, their on-point expressions that convey exactly how fuckin terrifying everything is right now, the slight glows to their eyes, and also they're just handsome boys <3)
Next up: Rain!!!! So well done! It's subtle enough that it never ever disrupts the impact of the focal point, but evident enough you can tell! And more importantly: THE MIST OFF THE CHARACTERS. Rain does this irl, it has that little vapor that comes off you and makes that little misty effect that plays with lighting, it's so cool-looking and here it's used to such pretty effect!
One of the panel captions says something about it blurring out all the injuries on the characters but like THAT AIN'T TOO BIG OF A PROBLEM when it gets across the environmental vibes, and also that'd be how it would look in real life too so like… outside viewer's angle is the same as the characters', mostly? my point is: that's the environment!!! that's the vibes, that's the feel! It gets it across and it does so in the most pretty way possible!
And another thing re: rain, the use of it to establish perspective, particularly in panels like this—
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—where we can tell we're looking down at Tynan due to the perspective on the rain and where it's pointing. Excellent. (Also, kudos for looking down and emphasizing how Tynan's losing his advantage—lovely use of visual storytelling.)
Additionally, the misting here:
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We see it most heavily in the leftmost panel, where it's quite foggy as you would expect in a rainstorm, especially in an environment with a lot of heat, but it's also lightly powdered on in the following two panels and tends to follow light sources, which makes complete sense given how light bounces off particles in the air.
A major point of strength in these too is a thorough understanding of lighting, like rim lighting, the various hues and shades, and an intricate understanding of how light bounces off surfaces even when they're in shadow (we'll see a faint glow in spots where characters are half in shadow, but that's how it would work in real life, because of how light bounces around).
Bringing some of these points together: the fluidity of the lines in magic, and the way simple glowing lines are used to emphasize motion and the magic itself, is deeply clever. I'm basically pulling at random from panels and there's definitely even better examples, but here's one (see this page https://comicaurora.com/aurora/1-16-33/):
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First panel, listed in numbers because these build on each other:
The tension of the lines in Tess's magic here. This works on a couple levels: first, the way she's holding her fists, as if she's pulling a rope taut.
The way there's one primary line, emphasizing the rope feeling, accompanied by smaller ones.
The additional lines starbursting around her hands, to indicate the energy crackling in her hands and how she's doing a good bit more than just holding it. (That combined with the fists suggests some tension to the magic, too.) Also the variations in brightness, a feature you'll find in actual lightning. :D Additional kudos for how the lightning sparks and breaks off the metal of the sword.
A handful of miscellaneous notes on the second panel:
The reflection of the flames in Erin's typically dark blue eyes (which bears a remarkable resemblance to Dainix, incidentally—almost a thematic sort of parallel given Erin's using the same magic Dainix specializes in?)
The flowing of fabric in the wind and associated variation in the lineart
The way Erin's tattoos interact with the fire he's pulling to his hand
The way the rain overlays some of the fainter areas of fire (attention! to! detail! hell yeah!)
I could go on. I won't because this is a lot of writing already.
Third panel gets paragraphs, not bullets:
Erin's giant-ass "FWOOM" of fire there, and the way the outline of the word is puffy-edged and gradated to feel almost three-dimensional, plus once again using Screen or a variation on it so that the stars show up in the background. All this against that stunning plume of fire, which ripples and sparks so gorgeously, and the ending "om" of the onomatopoeia is emphasized incredibly brightly against that, adding to the punch of it and making the plume feel even brighter.
Also, once again, rain helping establish perspective, especially in how it's very angular in the left side of the panel and then slowly becomes more like a point to the right to indicate it's falling directly down on the viewer. Add in the bright, beautiful glow effects, fainter but no less important black lines beneath them to emphasize the sky and smoke and the like, and the stunningly beautiful lighting and gradated glows surrounding Erin plus the lightning jagging up at him from below, and you get one hell of an impactful panel right there. (And there is definitely more in there I could break down, this is just a lot already.)
And in general: The colors in this? Incredible. The blues and purples and oranges and golds compliment so well, and it's all so rich.
Like, seriously, just throughout the whole comic, the use of gradients, blending modes, color balance and hues, all the things, all the things, it makes for the most beautiful effects and glows and such a rich environment. There's a very distinct style to this comic in its simplified backgrounds (which I recognize are done partly because it's way easier and also backgrounds are so time-consuming dear gods but lemme say this) and vivid, smoothly drawn characters; the simplicity lets them come to the front and gives room for those beautiful, richly saturated focal points, letting the stylized designs of the magic and characters shine. The use of distinct silhouettes is insanely good. Honestly, complex backgrounds might run the risk of making everything too visually busy in this case. It's just, augh, so GORGEOUS.
Another bit, take a look at this page (https://comicaurora.com/aurora/1-15-28/):
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It's not quite as evident here as it is in the next page, but this one does some other fun things so I'm grabbing it. Points:
Once again, using different colors to represent different character actions. The "WHAM" of Kendal hitting the ground is caused by Dainix's force, so it's orange (and kudos for doubling the word over to add a shake effect). But we see blue layered underneath, which could be an environmental choice, but might also be because it's Kendal, whose color is blue.
And speaking off, take a look at the right-most panel on top, where Kendal grabs the spear: his motion is, again, illustrated in bright blue, versus the atmospheric screened-on orange lines that point toward him around the whole panel (I'm sure these have a name, I think they might be more of a manga thing though and the only experience I have in manga is reading a bit of Fullmetal Alchemist). Those lines emphasize the weight of the spear being shoved at him, and their color tells us Dainix is responsible for it.
One of my all-time favorite effects in this comic is the way cracks manifest across Dainix's body to represent when he starts to lose control; it is utterly gorgeous and wonderfully thematic. These are more evident in the page before and after this one, but you get a decent idea here. I love the way they glow softly, the way the fire juuuust flickers through at the start and then becomes more evident over time, and the cracks feel so realistic, like his skin is made of pottery. Additional points for how fire begins to creep into his hair.
A small detail that's generally consistent across the comic, but which I want to make note of here because you can see it pretty well: Kendal's eyes glow about the same as the jewel in his sword, mirroring his connection to said sword and calling back to how the jewel became Vash's eye temporarily and thus was once Kendal's eye. You can always see this connection (though there might be some spots where this also changes in a symbolic manner; I went through it quickly on the first time around, so I'll pay more attention when I inevitably reread this), where Kendal's always got that little shine of blue in his eyes the same as the jewel. It's a beautiful visual parallel that encourages the reader to subconsciously link them together, especially since the lines used to illustrate character movements typically mirror their eye color. It's an extension of Kendal.
Did I mention how ABSOLUTELY BEAUTIFUL the colors in this are?
Also, the mythological/legend-type scenes are illustrated in familiar style often used for that type of story, a simple and heavily symbolic two-dimensional cave-painting-like look. They are absolutely beautiful on many levels, employing simple, lovely gradients, slightly rougher and thicker lineart that is nonetheless smoothly beautiful, and working with clear silhouettes (a major strength of this art style, but also a strength in the comic overall). But in particular, I wanted to call attention to a particular thing (see this page https://comicaurora.com/aurora/1-12-4/):
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The flowing symbolic lineart surrounding each character. This is actually quite consistent across characters—see also Life's typical lines and how they curl:
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What's particularly interesting here is how these symbols are often similar, but not the same. Vash's lines are always smooth, clean curls, often playing off each other and echoing one another like ripples in a pond. You'd think they'd look too similar to Life's—but they don't. Life's curl like vines, and they remain connected; where one curve might echo another but exist entirely detached from each other in Vash's, Life's lines still remain wound together, because vines are continuous and don't float around. :P
Tahraim's are less continuous, often breaking up with significantly smaller bits and pieces floating around like—of course—sparks, and come to sharper points. These are also constants: we see the vines repeated over and over in Alinua's dreams of Life, and the echoing ripples of Vash are consistent wherever we encounter him. Kendal's dream of the ghost citizens of the city of Vash in the last few chapters is filled with these rippling, echoing patterns, to beautiful effect (https://comicaurora.com/aurora/1-20-14/):
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They ripple and spiral, often in long, sinuous curves, with smooth elegance. It reminds me a great deal of images of space and sine waves and the like. This establishes a definite feel to these different characters and their magic. And the thing is, that's not something that had to be done—the colors are good at emphasizing who's who. But it was done, and it adds a whole other dimension to the story. Whenever you're in a deity's domain, you know whose it is no matter the color.
Regarding that shape language, I wanted to make another note, too—Vash is sometimes described as chaotic and doing what he likes, which is interesting to me, because smooth, elegant curves and the color blue aren't generally associated with chaos. So while Vash might behave like that on the surface, I'm guessing he's got a lot more going on underneath; he's probably much more intentional in his actions than you'd think at a glance, and he is certainly quite caring with his city. The other thing is that this suits Kendal perfectly. He's a paragon character; he is kind, virtuous, and self-sacrificing, and often we see him aiming to calm others and keep them safe. Blue is such a good color for him. There is… probably more to this, but I'm not deep enough in yet to say.
And here's the thing: I'm only scratching the surface. There is so much more here I'm not covering (color palettes! outfits! character design! environment! the deities! so much more!) and a lot more I can't cover, because I don't have the experience; this is me as a hobbyist artist who happened to take a couple design classes because I wanted to. The art style to this comic is so clever and creative and beautiful, though, I just had to go off about it. <3
...brownie points for getting all the way down here? Have a cookie.
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bratphilia · 7 months
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grasp (w. afton x reader)
request: "I don’t really have a coherent story (just some thots) but i’d kill for some sort of smuttyyy ficlet that has the reader who is very short as in 4 foot 10 and has petite features (just like me 😵‍💫) being picked up and slung over Matthew Lillard!William Afton’s shoulder 🥴🥴 Include reader being scared and trying to wriggle free??? (due to her seeing or knowing something she shouldn’t have about Raglan) and some name-calling like ‘little one’, ‘good girl’ & ‘atta girl’ 🤤 - 🧸"
note: hi nonniebear!! i'm sorry if this fic is a little rushed but i tried to stay true to what you requested! hope you enjoy and feel free to keep sending in more ideas :)
pairing: steve raglan / william afton x reader
tags: bondage, praise kink, fingering, squirting, begging
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fuck. you're really in for it now. 
this yellowish, decaying rabbit stalks towards you, and there are four, sentient and bloodthirsty animatronics behind you. 
you're stuck. 
even worse, the rabbit came from the entrance, so if you were to try to make your escape that way there was a likelihood of you running into his knife.
"please," you find yourself pleading. "please don't kill me."
the rabbit laughs menacingly and bends down to your level. "how about this? i'll give you a head start." 
without any further questions you bolt through the maze of halls and towards the office. you crouch down in front of the vent the rabbit was referring to and unscrew the bolts barricading it. thank god you're small enough to fit in the vents. this might actually work.
then you hear unmistakeable, thumping footsteps coming towards you. 
it only hurries your actions. your heart rate rapidly increases. the screws are so aged with rust that it's hard to—
the door opens with a loud thud. you scream at the noise, and again when you're being lifted off the ground. it's the yellow rabbit. 
it slings you over its shoulder with unmatched strength. you wail incoherent words and pleas as you pound the back of the suit with balled fists. 
"help me!" you scream out to no one. "somebody help!" 
the rabbit wordlessly carries you down the hall, to one of the locked doors you dared not to venture into during your shifts. it carried you down a couple stairs and then set you on a dentist-office-style chair. 
at this point tears are rolling down your face. eyes are shut in fear of looking your captor in the eyes. uncontrollable sobs escape your mouth, praying that these aren't your final moments. then the rabbit wraps both hands (paws?) around your wrists and holds them to the arm handles so that restraints can bolt around them. 
"oh, save it," he says, clearly annoyed with your crying. "i've heard it all before, you don't deserve to die, and all that."
your eyes shoot open. the rabbit's voice no longer sounds robotic and you realize you actually recognize it. 
in a very dramatic fashion, it's steve raglan. your career counsellor, a.k.a the man who got you this job in the first place. 
he almost looks ridiculous in the rabbit suit, which admittedly doesn't add much to his already sizeable frame, but you can't find the humor in the situation in which you could be seconds away from dying in. 
"why?" you find yourself asking, suddenly more curious than hysteric. "why give me this job if you were just going to kill me in the end?" 
"because you got a little too close to the truth, and for some reason, those brats up there were unable to take care of the job themselves," he snarls resentfully. he must be referencing the animatronics. it makes sense now— the kids in the drawings with the yellow rabbit on the wall. 
"it was you. you killed those kids."
steve gives you a horrible smile. one that almost makes you weak, with that dimple you recognize from many conversations in his office. "you finally figured it out."
he walks behind you, shuffling around in the suit, and you crane your neck around to see him taking it off. he's wearing a white tee and dark purple slacks. he's not particularly muscular, but not thin either. it's a build specific to middle aged men. you hate to admit it, but your face flushes when you notice how large his hands are. 
he catches you looking at him and smiles, cocking his head curiously. "see something you like, little night guard?" instantly you whip your head back around. your head is at a moral war with itself, with you being disappointed in yourself that you were actually checking out a child serial killer. 
but steve doesn't leave it alone. once he abandons the suit, he swiftly strides over you. he places both hands on your restraints, caging you in. you shrink into yourself. 
"i think," he says lowly, "i might have a different use for you, little one. one that we can both enjoy." 
you swallow, not saying anything. steve reaches a hand up to slide down your face then cup your jaw. his hands are cold to the touch and it sends shivers down your spine. 
you find your voice. "don't touch me."
"don't touch you? are you sure?" he says cockily and you can only glare at him in response. 
"what if i just..." he trails off, sliding the hands on his face down your neck, your chest, abdomen, and eventually your core. he presses his hand there hard, making you jolt upwards and whimper. "so you don't want me to touch you, is what i'm hearing?"
fuck. this undeniably hot serial killer has you at his disposal and you can't help but feel turned on. if you're going to die, and your chances really aren't looking good for you, maybe you should just...
"please," you murmur, closing your legs so they trap his hand there.
"please, what?"
you swallow. "please fuck me." 
"'atta girl." he grins from ear to ear. "y'know, all that begging you did earlier really did a number on me, but i must say i love this change of heart."
steve starts to undo the buttons of your slacks and begins to pull them down, leaving you bare in your underwear. it's at this point you realize how wet you are, and you try to relieve the tension in your core by squeezing your thighs together but he grabs your legs and presses them to your stomach. you're just so malleable to him.
he tugs off your panties and discards them mindlessly. "look at that," he marvels at your bare skin, "so pretty, little one."
you squirm against the restraints a little. at this point the anticipation will kill you faster than he will. you wish he would just touch you already, but you had to admit all his praises were only adding to your arousal.
steve decides to sit a little further down the chair and wordlessly plunges a finger inside your pussy. he goes deliberately slow, clearly gaging your reaction. "fuck," you mutter, and it takes all your strength to not buck your hips into his movements.
"you need this, don't you, sweet girl?" he muses, stopping the thrusting of his fingers, but still keeping them inside. "tell me."
"please, please, please..." tears coat your lashes from all the teasing. "'need it so bad."
he gives you a kind smile, one you haven't seen since you were back in his office. "good girls get what they ask for. "
steve slides in a second finger and begins to pump faster. it's an improvement but you find yourself needing more. you buck your hips up hoping he would get the message and he simply laughs lowly as he adds a third finger into the mix.
his pace gets progressively faster over time to your delight. the noises coming from your center is absolutely obscene. you can feel your juices dripping down onto the seat.
"ah — ah!" you cry out, feeling your orgasm nearing. "i'm coming — please, slow down—"
you squeeze your eyes shut. all the sudden the chair is abnormally wetter than you would have expected and— oh.
your face burns bright red. "i-i'm sorry..."
he's shocked, mouth agape and eyes slightly widened. then a wolfish grin spreads across his face. "don't you dare apologize, little one, let's try that again."
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teaboot · 9 months
Note
Could you make a quick tutorial on drawing fingers?
Sure! Pardon the quality, I'm on my lunch break at work.
SO I kind of cheat a little, in that when I'm just doing a doodle, I don't use references- I kinda just wing it like this? The palm is pretty much always the same shape, so I start with a square, and the fingers are never wider than the palm, so an arch of the same width does most if the work for me:
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And from the side, I can kinda cheat that too, since the fingers are usually the same thickness all around and, again, never thicker than the palm:
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and depth is where it starts to get. Fucky.
For depth, I usually start with the square I know the palm is, then just scribble in the general shape the fingers are making:
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and then break those noodle curves into three-part segments after. And really, they'd look a lot more ridiculous without the nails- the curve of the nails is adding to the illusion of a tube curled forwards, instead of like. An awkward blobby jellybean shape
And for more complex poses, I usually take photos of my own hands, or hold a pose with my left while drawing with my right.
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Really, for fingers or hands or anything else at all, I only ever have two reliable tips for anyone:
Don't draw what it is. Draw what it LOOKS LIKE. If you try and draw a hand that looks like a hand is structured, you have to build an entire model inside your head that looks the same as the one you see and THEN you have to make your brain translate it perfectly to paper. If you just draw what you see, with no other assumptions, the path is much shorter.
IE, You don't need to know how something works. You just need to accept it for what it is. (This is why you don't see most of my pinky in the gourth example sketch- if I can't see it, it doesn't exist.)
And 2. Just fucking bullshit it. Is it anatomically accurate? Sure. But if your eyes still say it's bad, tweak it. There are no rules. Do what you gotta do to make it convincing, not real. Real things look fake all the time. Make something fake that looks real. Far simpler to pull off.
Anyhow, my alarm just went off- I hope this helped? Might do a video sometime, actually. Thanks for the ask! 💛
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nashaalya · 2 months
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some fun fax about vampires in Balkan folklore—
the term vampire was originally applied to any corpse not buried in accordance with local burial rites; proto-slavic *ǫpirǐ, while etymologically ambigious, appears to derive from *ǫ-pirǐ, 'without fire; unburned', in reference to corpses that hadn't been cremated. most powers nowadays associated with vampires were in fact first ascribed to witches (cf. romanian strigoi), who were thought to rise as vampires at death
you're probably underestimating how much like mortals folkloric vampires were thought to be—there's records of them moving into their old houses, eating and drinking mortal food, and being both sexually active and able to sire children. this is not to say they weren't thought of as malevolent; their children were often fucked up (and/or became vampires at death themselves), and an oft-cited hazard was vampires copulating with former spouses until they didn't die of exhaustion
the idea of vampires arising as a pre-scientific explanation for epidemics is broadly correct, but probably too precise: just about any chain of unexplainable deaths could've led to bouts of vampire hysteria, including what we'd today recognise as serial murder
an important function of vampires as a stock folkloric character (at least among the south slavs) appears to had been to act as an explanation for extramarital conception and natal deformities—cf. reports of vampires ravishing women they were attracted to in life, and the idea the offspring of a vampire with a mortal woman will be born without bones or nails and die shortly after birth. i suppose one could draw a comparison w germanic changelings
given the number of 'miracle pregnancies' blamed on vampires, i can't help but wonder what does that say abt mr yeshua...
folkloric vampires ordinarily drank blood from the heart, not the neck (if they even consumed blood at all); i think this is something that got carried over into early anglophone vampire fiction—consider carmilla leaving bite marks above laura's heart in carmilla (1872). why did later portrayals shift to them drinking from the neck, i can't say—drinking directly from the heart seems inordinately more romantic
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Text
I don't know who needs to hear this, but you should make an OC.
You should make an OC. Specifically a Spider-Sona. Like now. Preferably yesterday. [A MEDIUM-LONG essay about OC's, fanfiction, and how to enrich and better your writing skills in literally every sector. Throughout this essay I reference my two characters Disco-Spider and Inca-Spider as examples of the way OCs can be used.]
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"But no one cares about OCs -"
OKKAYYYY??
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IDK about ya'll but fandom is NOT my final destination no siree
I feel like a lot of the time we get so caught up in posting and notes we forget that for many artists and writers on this platform - fanfiction is not the true end goal.
Many of us write and draw fanart for years -
But the fact of the matter is if you want to be an author someday, if you want to be a graphic novelist, an animator, etc, etc - You're going to HAVE to make OCs.
If you want to study English in college or publish books - you're gonna have to write an OC at least once. If not hundreds of times.
If you want to study art - chances are at some point you're gonna have to fill a portfolio with original pieces, including some of OCs.
If you want to do something with your writing, if you want to get better - or make a career out of your art, you HAVE to make OCs at some point.
And this is especially true for fanfiction writers.
You can get very very very good at writing in your specific fandoms, you may have the emotions of the characters on point, and the ability to describe the scenery.
But if you don't know how to create and design a character - if you don't know how to worldbuild, or come up with scenarios without the help of characterai and ChatGPT - you won't be able to write a book.
If you're an artist and you don't know how to draw an original character from scratch, how to match colors, how to draw certain skin tones, certain hair, wheelchairs and mobility aids, how to design a character from looks, to clothing - it's going to be so hard to expand your art outside of fanart. You'll always be beholden to the notes and popularity of your particular fandom.
Do it - even if you've never written or never draw before. Even better.
That's why I CHAMPION Spider-sonas so much. They're basically OCs on easy mode.
Can't write backgrounds yet? Here's a bucket on canon events to pick from? Can't draw faces? Blank mask with eyes.
Hell, if you're really really new about it - just pick a character and make a slightly different variant. Make a Hobie of your own, make a Peter variant. Make a Mary Jane variant. Pick a something you like and turn that into a character.
Can't write? Just fill-in the 'My name is [blank], I was bitten by a [blank]' script that Miles does. Can't draw, just draw out a basic shape of a body and color-out the suit, no fancy pose needed. That still counts!!
Make a self-insert. Make yourself fit into the story, design your suit, write out how you fight crime, how you'd act at the Society, meeting Miguel or Miles.
That's still character design, that's still worldbuilding.
We always hear people say 'Make art for yourself' and yeah that sounds nice - but people also misinterpret it.
Make art for yourself doesn't just mean making art that you personally like.
Making art for yourself also means making art that develops your skills even if no one gives a fuck. It's about making art as practice without the intention of it being 'completed', making OCs that never get used, drawing locations you see or writing a random ass short story then shoving it into your Google Drive forever.
Making art for yourself means making art that invests in yourself.
It means making art that interests you, challenges you, or helps you develop.
And making OC's helps develop your fanfic writing skills.
In may fandoms we begin to fall into these routine 'tropes' between characters and their personalities. This is usually known as the 'fanon' characterization.
Because when you have a set amount of characters and people, there's also a set amount of interactions and relationships between those people.
Writing OCs and having those OCs interact with canon characters allows you to dig deeper into sides of the canon characters we'd never otherwise see.
That's why I wrote Disco-Spider Diane like I do. Often, we see Hobie characterized as the chaotic, rowdy, confident type - which is perfect characterization for him. But in almost all of his interactions - he's the wilder, bolder, extroverted one. I wanted to put him in a situation where for once, he was the calmer one. I wanted to explore more grounded and chill sides of Hobie, one where he's the one grounding the other, and thinking logically - because in canon, we're hinted at a side of Hobie who's way more methodical and slow-paced and willing to stop and wait it out and play it off. And I wanted to see that. I wanted to explore what he'd do if he was faced with someone just as chaotic, who put on a cheeky ironic act - just the same as him.
Because no other characters serve that purpose in canon.
If there are elements of a character or concept you think are interesting but outright ignored by canon and fanon, you can create an OC to explore those parts.
For Disco-Spider: I wanted to explore how someone like a militant Black Panther would handle being Spider-woman, when Spider-people are usually shown as pacifists - what that would look like or how it'd shape her morals based on era, etc. For Inca-Spider: I realized there were so many culture based Spider people like Pavitr and Spider-UK. But none for indigenous communities, and NONE from countries that only existed in other universes. So, I created an indigenous character from Tawanti - a country that's located where Peru would be for us.
You can give a canon character a sibling, to explore how they'd interact with family. Give them a partner that acts totally different than their canon partner, write how that'd change the way they show love.
OC's make your original writing better, AND your fanfiction writing too. They can help you understand canon characters on a deeper level.
And sure, nobody likes your OC. NOW.
But every single character you write about, is someones OC. Every character you write about was once treated that way. Once upon a time, Dean Winchester was just some rando character in the pilot script of a show that hadn't picked up yet. Probably no one gave a fuck until CW picked it up.
The writers had to not only make him and develop him - they had to BELIEVE in him enough to pitch him to a TV show channel to make people care.
That's always the first step. Believing your character's story is worthy enough of being told and presenting it as such.
ESPECIALLY if your OC represents a demographic you don't see represented. Cause yes if there isn't any black women in canon then I'll Thanos this shit and do it myself.
Make OCs.
Write them. Draw them. Even if it's bad. Who the hell cares. Big Mouth is on Netflix with multiple seasons, have you seen that show?? 'Ugly' art is not a crime.
Make piccrews, fill out OCforms or take quiz's as them. Write little blurbs of them hanging with canon characters then post it in the tag.
You don't need a huge Spidersona sheet or a long long fic explaining their backstory. They can just be there.
MAKE OCs.
Make them to explore more in your fanfiction, make them so future you can write that novel or draw or that comic or sell those prints or whatever it is you plan to do.
Make it so your fanfiction AND original writing can grow stronger. It isn't just about notes and content and follows.
Make an OC. Make a Spidersona. Literally you have nothing to lose but your chains.
"Nobody cares-"
Oh they'll care when you pop out with that 6-book publishing deal. They'll care when you're designing big characters for movies. Cause that's how it happens. Watch.
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ANYWAYSSSS if you made it this far I hope this inspired you to at least play around with the idea of OCs and Spidersonas in general.
Here's Hobie.
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BYE.
If you want to make a sona and are kinda lost on where to start, lemme know!! Because I think they're amazing starting places for those who have never written or drawn before. Or if you have a sona but want to develop them further.
I haven't seen a guide to spidersonas and i wonder if that's something some people might want/need.
Seriously if I can even get one person into writing or drawing I'll be over the goddamn moon.
MAKE OCS PLEASE.
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atalienart · 5 months
Text
Does Al also make you paranoid?
Look at this picture. Is it art or is it an Al generated image? Look at this text. Is this useful piece of information or Al gibberish? Look at this video? Is this real or fake?
I stare at drawings, analysing every line, I go through people's social media to see if they're artists or thieves. I look for references and take a close look at every image because I don't want to reference distorted reality. I show someone a video of snow falling somewhere and instead of "look how beautiful" I go "do you think this exists?" and I read something and then give up recognising dry like a summer desert language of a robot. I hate it here.
Today's no different. I see a picture that looks kinda nice but I immediately notice there's something wrong with it. I go to the source and there's more. Every day the person adds a new fully finished piece. Under every piece people (because they can sense something's off) ask the owner of the account what medium he uses. The answer is: "I've been using the computer to create my art since 1980, and then I print it with a vintage ink on my epson printer". The fuck? Sounds like the printer does more work that he does on the computer. They guy's old, I give him the benefit of the doubt, his bio says he's a curator of art in some institute. One of the commenters says he posts regularly and his "style" didn't change much. I go through his feed. In fact his "style" changes a lot. But oh, most of the images he posts belong to other people who have their own exhibitions and no online presence, and it's all Al shit, clear as day. I scroll down and it turns out the guy used to be into abstract art, there's tons of it before Al started to ruin everything. In another life I'd scroll past that pretentious fuck without losing 12 minutes of my life. I hate it here. I see another artist and they seem legit but even when I see their art with all the human imperfections I can't shake the feeling they reference Al images. I see their process video but I cannot tell if they're just new to digital art and they use traditional methods or it's a bit shady. Am I paranoid or their video is just recorded that way, because I've already seen the erasing liars and pretending idiots.
It's exhausting. Constant vigilance! I don't want to waste my time on something people didn't bother to spend their time creating. They don't care about their thing, why should I?
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heartfullofleeches · 6 months
Note
Oohhh I love the night gallery crew!! <3
Okay so- how would the art gallery harem react to the news that their precious night guard used to pose as a nude art model for one if their previous jobs? Bonus points if they end up digging around and finding old drawings/portfolio pics of them posted online lol
The Painter
Their muse - a model in the past? A nude one at that? They can't say they aren't jealous others have bared witness to their beauty, but they won't be so upset about it if their dearest is willing to come out of retirement and maybe send their older photos up to their study. They promise not to stare too much, but they pray their muse doesn't mind if their eyes linger. It's rare for them to be in the presence of such raw perfection. They are more of a hands on type of painter so their muse wouldn't mind a few touches, no? As they would say, it’s all just apart of the process.
Rosebud
Of course they are interested, but they won't press the matter unless Reader offers to share.... Please ignore the excitement of their roses - though they do reflect Rosebud's inner feelings they assure Reader it's just past their feeding time. Clearly more flustered than they let on. Refuses to look at the images because they would only make them more tempted to leave bites all over Reader to claim them as their own as they are when they see the Guard's exposed neck or wrists or pretty much any uncovered inch of skin.
The Scavenger
Hope staff gives the printer in the breakroom a nice funeral because if Scavenger gets its hands on those portfolio shots it's the end of the line for that poor machine. Anything relating to their precious treasure is the pinnacle of their collection. They must have more - even if it's the same picture a thousand times it's still not enough. If anyone comes across one of their copies it's best theu leave them their because even if they're trying to return them Scavenger will accuse them of stealing. There's not doubt I my mind they've eaten a copy or two because they're weird like that.
The Faceless Angel
Conflicted. On one hand they are interested in seeing their guard in all forms, but on the other it feels like an invasion of privacy. Unlike some, their intrigue comes from an artistic viewpoint rather than sexual. They'd give anything for the opportunity to touch Reader's warm flesh without clothing in the way. It feels like heaven on their stone skin.
The Lady in Red
It's the less images she's interested in and more the people who have seen them. Swiftly cuts down anyone who views Reader's pictures while in the gallery be they human or fellow exhibit. She can't do anything about the past, but does everything in the present to keep too many eyes off her love. Takes the photos Scavenger loses and while she keeps a few on hand - she burns the rest.
Julian
Slimy fuck is probably the first to come across them being the noisy little stalker he is. As an artist in his free time, he does use them for reference, but it's much more fun to use them for other things. Like teasing Reader about their past or taping copies to the breakroom fidge. He only does it when he knows they're the only two on shift because he'll have to hurt anyone who sees them nakee besides him. Like Lady, he's more likely to attack paintings who have gotten a hold of the scavengers copies.
Anri
Their favorite coworker was once a model? How fun! They aren't the best artist, but they can draw Reader too. A little bashful about seeing them naked so they stick to just about the shoulders. They want to at least waiting until their ten date with Reader before seeing them in such a state. Covers their eyes and runs off whenever someone tries to show them. Julian only allows Anri to see the photos because it's fun to chase them through the halls with them or point out various aspects of their features to make Anri flustered
The Director
Dislikes imagine of Reader because while they can be used to create copies of them, The Director wants the real thing. Still has one of Scavenger's photos tucked in his coat pocket.
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moxley · 6 months
Text
i'm about to make the lamest post possible: i rlly don't like comments like "feed that boy" or whatever other references to food when someone draws a character as fat. are you not capable of looking at a fat person without immediately connecting them to food.
i never, ever see comments about people's eating or food when thin characters are drawn unless that character is extremely thin, and even then it's usually with sympathy. i don't know man - i can't tell if y'all are fetishists or just fucked in how you think about fat people, and i'm really not sure which is worse.
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algea · 29 days
Text
Ghoul School (pt 2)
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prompt: when you get out of the hospital, Lars has put it onto himself to take care of you until you're healed. I can confirm that there is a big chuck of text where you're really pissed off at him before he gets his shit together!
warnings: tbh i literally dont even know. umm yeah your shin is broken and you're concussed so. things may or may not get a little steamy...cussing duh
a/n: im super mega surprised all my Lars stuff has gotten popular; i think it’s very insanely unhealthy how much i love James Acaster.
~ there are a LOT of little secret references to James in here, comment what you picked out ;)
~ also this is probably longer than the first part idk, but its officially the longest post ive written @jesssuperwholock03
~requested by @thestralluvr
Lars visited you everyday. Every morning, every evening after work, sometimes even over his lunch breaks, like clockwork. You were beginning to think it was seriously unhealthy. You were lying in the hospital bed, 4 days after the incident, with your eyes closed. You heard a soft click of the door and you cracked your eyes slightly. You, being oh-so-surprised, were met with the tired face of your crush colleague and work partner. He wore his jumper tied around his waist, a dark colored button up adorning his body. His hair looked disheveled, which could only mean he had just finished a job. He looked so tired, more tired than you've ever seen him be. It was annoying, honestly. Annoying how attractive he was without even trying. 'Why can't I look like that' you thought to yourself, mentally frowning. You decided to acknowledge his presence, seeing how he took time, again, out of his day to come and visit you.
"Lars." You stated, turning your head look over at him. Lars froze, gazing down at your solemn face. You started to reach out to him, but thought otherwise and rested your hand back on the crisp sheets. You watched as he pushed his glasses up and pulled a chair to sit beside you. Lars rested his forearms on the edge of the bed, his hands clasped.
"I was told that you'll be able to get out of here today." He whispered, his tired eyes searching your face. He was desperate for you to come back, back to how things used to be, where he would tease you, and you would always find witty comeback. But he knew you couldn't, not for a while at least. Lars was so scared you weren't going to be able to work for Ghost Corps anymore, especially since the concussion you got really fucked up your head. Not to mention your shin, which was a huge impact on you.
Lars let out a shaky breath. He unclasped his hands and ran one through his hair. You reached out, more confidently this time, and rested your hand on his. He didn't move his hand; he was scared if you let go, you'd disappear.
"Lars." You said again, your face flashing with worry. Your other hand softly touched his chin, holding his face so delicately.
"I'm scared that you're not going to come back." Lars stated, grimacing at the words that flew out of his mouth.
"Why wouldn't I come back? What made you think this?" You asked, your eyebrows drawing together in a sad furrow.
"I want things to be the same, I don't want things to change." He whispered quietly, his eyes cast down.
"I think you and I both know that it won't be the same, neither of us want to admit it. Normally, you don't go around kissing people and pretend like you hate each other for the rest of your life." You explained, searching his eyes for an answer. His eyes glanced back at you as his cheeks burned with pink. You tipped his head to the side ever so slightly, your thumb brushing over his cheekbone.
"That's unfair, Lars. You can't expect me to leave you alone after that." You pleaded.
"Can we just drop it? It really doesn't fucking matter right now.” Lars snapped. You drew your hand away from his face, hurt flashing across your face.
“What I meant was that we should focus on getting you out of here.” He frantically explained. He reached for your hand, but you pulled away again. Lars had never felt an emotion like this. His ears were ringing and his brain was hazy. It could’ve only been described as embarrassment. He wouldn't cry, no, that's not what he wanted to do. He wanted to apologize over and over again until you'd forget he ever did anything or said anything.
“I think it's maybe time for you to go. When I get out, do me a favor and send Lucky and Pheebs to get me.” You muttered, looking down at your hands. Lars sat there for a few moments, his jaw clenched. He wanted to say something, anything, to make you understand how he felt. Instead, he got up and, with a longing gaze down at you, left.
You felt hot tears sting your eyes, which you allowed to fall down your cheeks. If he wanted to play that dumbass game again, you could do it, just not like you used to. You didn't realize that you were holding your breath until he walked out of the door, not looking back. You slammed your hand down on the bed in a fit of rage, which turned into a soft cry. You wished that you could make better sense of it all, but your wishes never came true.
It was only 2 hours after that you were discharged. Lucky and Phoebe, just as you had requested, rushed in to see you as soon as they could.
"Y/N!" Phoebe exclaimed, running to you and giving you a big hug. You smiled and hugged her back, or at least as much as you could with your crutches. Lucky joined in on the hug before you parted and started making your way to the car.
"Everyone is so happy you're coming home! We've all been super worried." Phoebe smiled, giving you a big smile.
"I'm so happy I get to see you guys again, Pheebs." You grinned back, ruffling her hair. Your mind wandered to Lars as you crutched your way to the car.
"Has um..." You started, realizing that the words were harder to get out of your mouth than you thought.
"He's not here. I haven't seen him since we went out this morning." Lucky explained, catching on to what you were about to ask. You looked down and nodded. 'Of course, how could I be so goddamn stupid.' You thought. Phoebe helped you into the car while Lucky set your crutches next to you. Trevor was driving, which was a whole other risk to be taking.
"Since when did they let you drive?" You asked, grinning at Trevor.
"Since Lars bailed at the last minute. I'm a great driver, so I have no idea what you're even talking about." Trevor bragged. 'He bailed at last minute? He never does that...' You thought sadly. He could've just been working really hard on whatever science thing he was studying. You really didn't know, but it did cut a little.
You didn't know you were carsick until you let Trevor drive you home. You thought Lars was a bad driver, but you quickly realized that Trevor was on the list of 'Never-Ever Drive Me Again,' along with Gary and Ray. You made a mental note of that as you struggled to stand to get out of the car. Trevor quickly rushed to your side to help you, easily pulling you up. You casted your gaze up, which fell on the Firehouse. 'Oh good, he won't be here.' You thought, as a feeling of relief washed over you. You hobbled in next to Phoebe and Trevor with Lucky trailing in not far behind. Callie and Gary stood right after the door, waiting for your arrival. As soon as you entered the Firehouse they were by your side, giving you warm 'hello's' and 'I'm so happy you're back and ok.' You were quick to hug them, hoping to talk to them about your situation with Lars.
"Alright kiddos, time to let the adults talk." Gary clapped, shooing away the smaller kids.
"Hey but I'm not-!" Trevor started, but was dragged away by Lucky. You three sat down around a table. It was silent for a moment as you tried to say what was on your mind.
"Did he come see you?" Callie asked, leaning in close.
"He came and saw me everyday. Sometimes up to three times." You whispered, your hands clasped together. Callie and Gary looked at each other.
"But when he came and saw me this morning, he was different. He was super moody, and got upset when I tried to confront him about kissing me like you said for me to do. I don't know if he doesn't like confrontation or if he, yknow, might be seeing someone else." You went on, nervously biting your nails.
"Y/N, I seriously doubt that there's many women who actually like Lars, much less want to even date him." Gary said, using his left hand to talk. 'Is he right? But I'm sure women think Lars is attractive.' You thought, scrunching your eyebrows together.
"I'm pretty certain that you're like the only woman he's ever talked to in a romantic way, probably even the only woman he’s ever even talked to." Callie confirmed.
"Either way, he likes you. We all know that." Gary finished. You were really hoping he was right, otherwise you were a fool being played.
You chatted for a little while longer, mostly about anything and everything that came to mind. After a while, you told them that you were ready to head home.
"I'll drive you home." Callie said, standing up and grabbing the keys. The ride home was filled with you and Callie singing awful 80's songs, the vast majority of them by Tears for Fears. That was something that cleaned your soul and freed your mind a while. Callie helped you into your apartment before she left with a hug and a warm 'see you soon.' You were seriously hoping that your torture would end.
After a day, you got restless. So restless that you decided to go back to the lab and start working again. Yes, it was idiotically stupid. No, you weren't going to listen to anyone and take a break. Honestly it was going to happen anyways. You walked into the lab the first day, partially hoping that Lars was going to be there, but alas he wasn't. You felt disappointment but you were hopeful that you'd see him tomorrow. Except you didn't. More days past by and you hadn't seen any sign of Lars in the lab at all. You were starting to get more and more worried.
It had been more than a week and you hadn’t seen Lars since. Concern was growing and you were growing weary waiting for him to return. It was extremely hard taking care of yourself, especially since you had to trek a long ways to get yourself to your car outside of your apartment. Finally, you decided it was time to go see Lars. It pissed you off so much that you were running to him, instead of him coming to you. You knew his place, mostly because you, Phoebe, Trevor, and Lucky would sometimes prank him by doing something so absurd he would tremble with anger. That was back when you had your little schoolgirl crush on him, before you realized that you loved him.
You decided to walk, opting for the fact that he knows your car all too well. You weren’t even sure if he was there, you really didn’t even bother checking to see in your group FindMy. You didn’t even bother use your crutches because they were stupid anyways, you could walk just find even though you had a little limp. God you just wanted to fucking punch his stupidly handsome face. He made your blood boil so much.
You were only a few blocks from from his house when it started to rain. Not just a light rain, but a pour. You grew a little worried for your cast, but continued on. You were completely drenched by the time you were on his doorstep. Even worse, it was cold out. You stood on his doorstep for a minute before you started to knock on his door. You breathed out, seeing your own breath in the air. You were so cold. No one answered, which was pretty typical for Lars. He was probably standing in the kitchen, not going to open the door.
"Lars!!" You yelled, knocking on the door some more. Water dripped from your face and you shivered again. The door still didn't open. You sighed and started walking away, the pouring rain drenching you again. You started to tread back to your apartment when you heard a loud bang and turned your head. There Lars was, standing in the doorway, eyes wide as he stared at you.
"Y/N!" Lars yelled back, meeting you in the rain. He craned his head to look down at you, his hands flying to meet your face.
"What are you doing here?" He said, his thumb swiping at your cheek.
"I came to see you. Where the fuck have you been, Lars Pinfield?!" You boomed, your right hand gripping the front of his shirt. His head dropped and he closed his eyes.
"I...I couldn't face you after that dumb shit I pulled. I wanted to apologize, really I did, but I couldn't bring myself to face you." Lars explained, his breath creating a misty cloud. All that either of you could do was stare at each other incredulously.
“Are you fucking stupid? I’ve wanted to see you all week, but your dumbass wouldn’t show up. Jesus Christ Lars, do you have any clue how much I’ve missed you? You’re so goddamn unfair you know that?!” You screamed, pounding on his chest. Lars’ hands moved from your face to your waist, holding you steady while you angrily punched him. He could only see you through his hair, which now stuck to his forehead, and his rain covered glasses which were fogging up. He was freezing, but all he could ever think about was you. How cold were you? Why would you sacrifice your time, hell, your health to come see him. He really couldn’t understand it. He couldn’t comprehend why someone would ever do that for someone. You would think with him being such a genius he would figure it out, however some people can be dense. But he realized that you were giving up all your time to invest in him. So, he decided that he needed to do the same.
"Do you think, maybe, that you'd want to spend the rest of your life, with me, maybe not just hating each other. And maybe not while hating each other, you'd like to be with me, y'know, for a long while?" Lars whispered, causing you to stop throwing punches. You looked up at him, in all his rain drenched glory. God, he looked so beautiful. You began to tremble, your hands lifting to capture his face with them. Lars breath quickened, his large hands gripping your waist. His hazy blue eyes captured yours, holding you in his everlasting gaze.
"Lars..." You murmured, swiping your thumb across his bottom lip. It was soft, softer than you thought it would've been. You found yourself daydreaming again about kissing him, though you'd never let him know how many times you've done it. You realized how close you were after you felt his breath against your cheek. You leaned in closer, pressing your chest against his. It was like something out of a movie, the way time stopped then. When your lips pressed against his, your body shuddered. It was like fireworks went off inside of you, making you all jittery and excited. Lars' hands slipped from your waist to your ass, softly gripping the flesh there. You slipped your fingers into his blond locks, tugging lightly. You heard a light groan rumble from his chest as he pressed into you further.
You weren't sure if the rain mixed with the cold had made you delirious, but after Lars had pulled away, it made him look even hotter. His tousled, wet hair, his lips that were red after the kiss, the ruby flush that adorned his cheeks and ears, and his half-lidded eyes made him even more beautiful. You found yourself feeling heat creep up through your neck to your cheeks as he stared down at you.
“Shit, right, you need to get inside, now.” Lars commanded, dragging you towards the door.
“Lars—!” You exclaimed, eyes widening as he basically picked you up. Your hands fly to grip the shirt on his back as you hoists you over his shoulder. He muttered a few things under his breath as he strolled to the door, obviously not caring that the rain was coming down harder. Lars opened the door, set you down, and shut the door with the heel of his shoe.
“Give me a second.” He commanded, leaving you standing in the foyer. You shivered and looked around, noticing some things that seemed quite out of place. Lars had multiple different band posters framed and hung up around the house, most of them signed. You could pick out a few like Pindrop, Temps, and the Timewasters. You also found multiple different movie titles like Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind and other things. ‘Interesting’ You thought as you took in your surroundings. Lars appeared again with a towel and some sort of clothes he had found for you to wear.
“If you fuck up my good clothes, I’m kicking your ass to the curb again.” Lars sighed, throwing the towel at you.
“Whatever, brainiac.” You bit back, trying to hold back your grin as you shoved past him. That earned a scoff and an eye roll from Lars.
“Washroom is down the right hall, second door to the left.” He called, peaking down at you as you went to change.
Lars had never had a girl in his house before. Other than the times his mother and sister had come over from Britain, obviously. His “outside” friends insisted that he bring a girl home, but he couldn’t ever bring himself to when he could only think of you. It made him a little giddy knowing that you were here with him. It was like a fever dream, if he woke up it all would be gone. He wanted to pinch himself to make sure that there was a way to prove that this was real. Lars found himself wondering if you liked how his house was decorated, the clothes he brought you, even the way the house smelt. At the thought of these, he began to worry that you didn’t like it here. Those thoughts were denied when you waddled back from the bathroom, furiously rubbing at your hair to dry it. It was silly, really. Lars thought you looked a little too good in his clothes. His Temps T-shirt was too big for you, and his plaid pj pants were rolled a few times to even try and fit you.
“You look stupid in that.” Lars scoffed once more, looking anywhere but your face.
“Hey man, you picked this out. Don’t blame me for your shit style.” You tried back. A hint of a smile could be found dawning his face. You smirked and poked his cheek.
“Is that a smile I see? Is the Lars Pinfield smiling in my presence?” You giggled, covering your mouth with your hand to fake gasp.
“No, it isn’t.” He replied, the smile growing wider on his face.
“It so totally is!!! Lars Pinfield is literally smiling right in front of me!” You exclaimed. He shook his head.
“Shut up. Anyways, I’m getting changed, don’t fucking break anything.” Lars sighed, sliding past you.
“You can put on anything, just as long as it’s not some stupid BritCom.” He added, shutting the door to his room.
“Who even watches BritComs…” You muttered to yourself. Walking back into the main foyer, you sat down on the sofa, which was surprisingly nice compared to how you thought your scientist boyfriend colleague lived. You sat down and flicked through the channels, stopping on whatever stupid romcom movie was on. You sighed and put your chin in your hand, anticipating the snappy response of ‘this is the shittiest movie I’ve ever seen.’
“Hey.” You heard from above you. Looking up, you saw Lars resting his elbows on the top of the sofa next to you.
“Hi.” You peeped back. Secretly, you were gawking at him. Lars wore a pair of white sweatpants and a black shirt. You’ve never seen him in casual wear, but you were absolutely loving it right now. His glasses weren’t pushed up, loosely sitting below the bridge of his nose, and his hair was still damp. If this wasn’t heaven, you didn’t know what was.
“What’re we watching?” He asked, glancing down at you. You shivered when his eyes locked on to yours.
“Some stupid romcom, you probably won’t like it anyways.” You answered.
“You’re right, I’ll probably think it’s super shitty, but I’ll watch it anyways.” He sighed, tipping his head towards you. You reached up and placed a kiss on his lips. Lars scrunched his eyebrows and sighed. After you pulled away, you patted the seat beside you, beckoning him to sit down. He all but scrambled to get next to you, plopping down with another big sigh.
“How’s your leg?” Lars asked once more, motioning to it with his eyes.
“It has definitely seen better days.” You replied earnestly. He nodded in sincerity, then turned his attention back to whatever you were watching. You looked over at him again before reaching over and slipping your hand into his. He didn't move, so you considered it a win. Taking matters into your hands again, you slid closer to him and rested your head on his shoulder. Lars' head rested on top of yours immediately and you smiled as he snuggled in closer. You could smell whatever cologne he was wearing, a citrusy, vanilla smell.
"You smell good." You muttered, looking up at him through your lashes. Lars didn't reply, but you could definitely imagine the look on his face. That little embarrassed smile with a scarlet blush dusting his cheeks. You found yourself becoming a little sleepy as you settled in. Blinking a few times, you tried to wake yourself up, but that only made you even more sleepy. Unintentionally, you started to fall asleep. As you drifted off to sleep, you could hear Lars mutter something to you, but you didn't respond.
Somehow, in the middle of the night, you had moved from the sofa, to Lars' bed. Now you only had 2 options as to how you got there. 1. You sleep walked to the bed and magically laid down, or 2. Lars had carried you there. You groaned and opened your eyes, lifting a hand to rub them. You blinked a couple times and sat up. No, Lars wasn't in here. So then, where was he? You slipped out of bed and stumbled to the kitchen, finding that he wasn't there either. A cup of coffee and some breakfast was left on the counter, along with a note saying,
'I'll be back later, got a couple things I need to work on at the lab. I left you some breakfast and I'm sure you can fend for yourself for lunch. Please don't burn the house down. - Lars' You smiled and picked up the coffee, finding that it was still steaming. You noticed that Lars had made the coffee the way you liked it, which meant he definitely paid attention whenever you ordered it.
After basically spending the whole day exploring Lars' house, you settled into the sofa once more with a random book you had picked out of his bookcase. Hearing keys jingle, you lifted your head from the book and saw Lars venture in. You slowly got up, minding both your head and leg, and made your way over to him.
"Hi handsome, how did work go?" You smiled at him, leaning against the doorway.
"It was...eventful. I got thrown up on by pukey." Lars sighed. You laughed and patted his shoulder.
"That was probably hilarious. I'll make dinner while you take a shower." You said, pushing him along to the bathroom.
"Mmmm, fine. But..." He started before he swooped down and kissed you. Your hand flew to his hair, giving it a nice tug. With that came a loud groan. Lars' gripped your waist and pushed you against the wall. His tongue swiped at your lips, which you gladly accepted. You snatched his glasses and tossed them away, squirming slightly as his nails dug your waist. When he pulled away he grinned,
"Looks like I'm not getting my shower in tonight."
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demeterdefence · 12 days
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i had some time to chill i took a walk i drank some water i still hate this sequence
fastpass spoilers and sexual assault references ahead
i mentioned a few weeks ago how much i disliked persephone's last interaction with apollo and how the narrative wants to insist that persephone has moved on / healed from her assault, and with the last chapter and fastpass spoilers, it has genuinely just gotten worse. like at this point i can't even fault the characters or their choices, this is 1000% a rachel thing, and i hope her computer crashes in the middle of an eight hour drawing that she hasn't saved ANYWAYS
i don't think it needs to be said that rachel sexualizes her abuse victim. like, there's a reason that hera is naked during her fight with kronos despite kronos being clothed; there's a reason persephone was alone and apollo had his shirt undone when they spoke on the phone before the press conference. it's masquerading as feminine empowerment, but it just seeks to emphasize how rachel sexualizes abuse, and how she will still try to redeem these male characters.
it's very telling that while she's having kronos monologue how sad and abused he was, and how he was ruled by fear, we cut to a shot of apollo and eros with the love arrow - another plot point that drove me absolutely bonkers but we'll get to that. the placement is not random, for all that it feels it; she's trying to draw a connection between apollo and kronos, how they're both ruled by fear.
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apollo is planning to assault persephone again. this is not me being dramatic or exaggerating - he knows what the arrow does, he knows persephone hates him, he is absolutely planning to assault her again for his own purposes. whether kronos' apology was intended to be sincere or not, placing apollo in the visual middle of it sets a tone. he has abused persephone in the past and he will abuse her again.
the next time apollo and persephone interact, persephone has figured out how to make spring again (somehow, without explanation, one trainwreck at a time i guess.)
i don't love her plan, and i don't love how it came about, but on the top ten list of crimes in this webcomic, it's not the worst. persephone plays up her "weak, damsel in distress" image to apollo so he'll underestimate her - fine, whatever, not the end of the world. it's how rachel depicts this that i take issue with.
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it took me a couple of minutes for that last picture to realize they're supposed to be struggling because it genuinely looks like they're making out lmao thanks rachel i hate it
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not entirely related but the way the lineart becomes minuscule except on the face and chest rachel really shows her priorities
i'll skip a few more panels of apollo manhandling persephone with her doing pretty much nothing to fight back - she alternates between pleading with him to listen to her when he has historically never done so, and threatening to expose him for the rape, which also historically has never worked, but that's about the extent of her fight back. this is all before she knows about the arrow, so i'm hesitant to say she's playing him with her distress; this is genuinely the extent of her fight back.
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a clear callback to the assault, which in another author's hands might have succeeded in being harrowing and traumatizing for the readers, but just filled me with visceral anger.
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[narrator voice] fucking yikes!
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ties her up, but don't worry! her chest will be on prominent display no matter what.
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unrelated tangent once again but i love! how rachel has retconned the narrative so that ouranos was manipulating apollo all along! instead of apollo owning up to being a shitheel, we've got a master manipulator in the background, who can take some of the blame for apollo's actions! cool!!!
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anyways persephone's plan is to make apollo fall in love with her, so he'll feel bad about raping her.
that's it.
we don't get persephone defeating apollo. we don't get persephone getting actual justice. it takes apollo being under the control of magic to admit what happened - it's a cheap cop-out, a lukewarm offering at best. i'm not joking, either, in the fastpass apollo quite literally goes on live television and admits he raped persephone, because he's under the magic of the love arrow. not because he genuinely feels bad, or because persephone got justice - it's a deus ex machina to wrap up the assault plotline. rachel never figured out if apollo was a master manipulator or some idiot tool, so she swerves between both, and then tosses the plot out to make room for something else.
it's such a miserable, cheap conclusion to a storyline that so many women have dealt with. years of waiting for apollo to be brought to justice, and he goes out with a little whimper, and persephone's assault gets swept under the rug again.
what a disappointment.
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melodramamatic · 5 days
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I've read a few modern AUs for MDZS and a lot of them try to translate the golden core-transplant surgery into like, an organ transplant. And that really doesn't capture nearly the emotional complexity of the situation.
Like. The golden core isn't something that's going to kill him to lose. Yeah Jiang Cheng is fucked up, but he's also just lost his parents and all the people he's grown up feeling responsible for and been tortured (and presumably been tortured in front of their corpses). He's got a lot of reasons to be fucked up. The loss of his golden core wasn't going to necessarily kill him, but it likely would have prevented him from being the one to lead the rebuilding of the Jiang sect and fight at the level he felt necessary to avenge his sect. (but i'm getting off topic, other people have written some interesting AUs about that)
Plus, there's a major spiritual component to consider. I'm way too white-american to pick up on nearly enough of the spiritual and cultural references and subtext, but a few people have made enough comparisons that I can sort of grasp the idea that the golden core is a semi-physical representation of the soul. There isn't really a good organ transplant analogy for having someone destroy an aspect of your soul, then getting a new one or rebuilding your old one via secret medical technique, then finding out your foster brother secretly implanted you with his in an experimental procedure. Organs really don't compare.
More upsetting discussion topics under cut.
The context of the transplant also doesn't translate. the Yunmeng trio witness something horrible happen to their family, narrowly escape, then Jiang Cheng intentionally puts himself in the path of the horrible thing to prevent it from getting his brother, but Wei Wuxian is left thinking it's bad luck/an accident/Jiang Cheng going back for his parents' bodies, rescues his traumatized brother, and responds to that trauma in the most extreme way possible. Like, without the traumatic destruction of Yunmeng Jiang and Jiang Cheng drawing off the Wen to protect Wei Wuxian, you lose the entire setup for the loss of his golden core. Some sort of car-accident/organ-donation/family-drama combo doesn't nearly get the emotional context. I think I saw a fic where the Yunmeng Jiang are rich and the Wen were a mob family that went after them? That probably came the closest in terms of emotional setup.
And then there's the experimental, never-been-done, the patient-did-not-consent aspect of the transfer. The fact that Wei Wuxian agreed to something that might kill him, and probably could have killed Jiang Cheng. That it hadn't been tested, and was only a theory Wen Qing had. For all that there is an aspect of risk, organ donations are known procedures; and I don't pretend to know a lot about hospitals but I do know if the patient can't give consent, their next of kin has to. Any kind of modern setting with even a semi-legit hospital setup would shatter my suspension of disbelief. It's not going to happen without several lawsuits, someone getting a medical license revoked, and possibly an arrest. (At least, I hope nothing comparable would happen, but the US medical system is a shitshow.)
In a modern AU, the best translation for being blindfolded, lied to by someone you trusted, and then having someone you thought was someone else put something inside your body that you didn't consent to or consented to under very misleading circumstances... isn't an organ donation. The violation of bodily autonomy, the violation of trust, the lack of consent. Yes, I am 100% arguing the canonical golden core transfer is comparable to s3.xual assault. Justifying it with the argument that 'it's for his own good' would even push the comparison toward what's called 'corrective r@pe'. What Wei Wuxian and Wen Qing was horrific and they justified it by saying it was for the best and he needed it to rebuild the sect and avenge his family. Wen Ning also went along with it. It makes me nauseous. There is no good way to translate this into a modern setting.
TL;DR: I'm not saying you can't write a mdzs modern AU, I personally enjoy them, but I am saying that referencing the golden core transfer with comparisons to an organ donation really doesn't cover it and whitewashes what Jiang Cheng went through.
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