#Have to make his entire Crew though of colorful cast

[captainkurosolaire]

Iji

[chronicbeans]

Wally and a Puppeteer Reader (part 2)

My brain won't shut up about this, I like it, and others seem to like it as well. I'm so happy people seem to like my stuff!

TW: Obsessive Behaviors, Stalking, Idol Worship, Scopophobia/Eye Imagery

🎥Today was the day! Apparently, Welcome Home has become beloved enough that someone has decided to interview some of the producers, directors, and cast. Cast including the puppeteers, which means you.

🎥 To be honest, you never really liked being on camera. That isn't to say you didn't like being a puppeteer! No, no, no! You LOVE your job. You love Wally, Home, every character in the neighborhood. You would just rather be behind the scenes. So, this interview is a little daunting.

🎥 When everything is all prepared, you look around the room. Every other puppeteer is sitting with their puppets, just like you are with Wally. Currently, you are all just waiting for the interviewer to finish up with the producers and camera crew. There's been punch laid out and everything for them. It seems like the boss really wanted to make a good first impression with whoever has come in.

🎥 Home is right next to you, with your chair positioned right beside it. It's pretty big, simply because there has to be a couple different versions of it. Ones that fit hand puppets perfectly through the front door and ones that fit the walk around puppets. The larger of the two versions of Home is next to you, with the smaller Home on a table near the title card set.

🎥 Everyone is chatting about their memories making the show, from funny trips that Eddie's puppeteer has made to the improve comedy that Barnaby's puppeteer has come up with for his skits. Everyone is having a jolly good time, except for you. You have this odd feeling like something is going on. Like something is wrong.

🎥 You look down to the little puppet of Wally, which you have nearly sat upon your lap. Ever since the odd incident with storing him away, you have been a bit more protective of him. You don't want him to be messed up. Improperly storing him could result in him being misshapen, so finding out that someone messed with him was alarming.

🎥 Worse yet, though, is that ever since that little incident... you have been feeling like someone is watching you during work. Then there's the colorful letters and drawings you have been getting. Every single one of them has been found on your desk in the storage area for props related to Wally. The language used in the letters are childish and cutesy, such as saying "If you were an apple, you would be the most sparkly and red one, because you are the most!" Every drawing is drawn entirely in crayon, with paint splatters here and there...

🎥 The interviewer comes in, saving you from your own anxious thoughts, as he waves to everyone. He introduces himself, fixing his black suit as he speaks in a formal manner. "Good evening, everyone. I apologize for the delay. Your boss was so excited to tell us about the plans and passion behind this show, I couldn't help but ask him many questions. Now, lets begin."

🎥 It takes a while, but soon, the interviewer gets to you. He asks you simple questions, such as what inspired you to become a puppeteer and what drew you into working on Welcome Home. You give the best answers you could provide, before he asks one that really intrigues you.

🎥"I have heard from some of the production and directing crew that you care a lot about Wally as a character, as well as puppet care. What exactly is it about Wally that you like? What made you want to play him?"

🎥 You couldn't help but grin, explaining everything you loved about Wally as a character. You talk about how he interacts with the audience, small quirks he has and how they are displayed on the show, and even pick him up to go over his character design.

🎥 One sentence you say suddenly makes your brain click in an odd way. The second you let the words "Wally lives to draw art for the viewer of the viewer, due to having a deep appreciation for their kindness" leave your lips, you can't help but remember all of the weird drawings of you you have been finding on your desk recently. You keep talking, though, in the hopes that the memory will just go away for now.

🎥 The drawings can wait. The letters can wait. All that you really want to talk and think about right now is how much this show means to you, as well as how proud of your coworkers you are for helping everyone make Welcome Home as popular as is it. Maybe this interview isn't going as bad as you thought it would?

🎥 You are so invested in talking and answering questions, in fact, that you neglect to notice how Wally seems to subtly curl into your touch. Then again, no one else seems to, either.

[cherri-balms]

♡﹕𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓, 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓! — PROLOGUE

▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။ ၊|• 0:00

↻ PREV ◁ || ▷ NEXT ↺

A/N﹕YAY I FINALLY FINISHED THE PROLOGUE FOR MY FIRST SERIES!

This is the first full fledged fanfic I have written in a long time, I hope anyone who finds this finds it enjoyable, I had a fun time writing this prologue chapter and I currently have around a 10-12 chapter vision for this series as it stands, but if this proves to be something you guys like I will be happy to extend the series! I do plan to create a tag list, if you would like to be added shoot me a DM and I will add you to the list! As always any replies will be made through our main acc @caravan-mad!

This prologue pretty much gives most if not all the information about the reader aside from important plot details. I wanted the reader's demon form and time period to be as ambiguous as possible and limit the use of Y/N, the reader in this story has allegories to butterflies.

Not all chapters will have warnings nor does this one, however the full fic will contain dark content and will be under the dead dove do not eat tag.

Some content will include but are not limited to: Unhealthy relationship dynamics, N.SFW, Unrequited love, Yandere themes, Dubcon, and pretty much any tag youd find listed in Hazbin Hotel tbh

𝐄 × 𝐌/𝐅 × 𝟐.𝟔𝐤 × 𝐎𝐧𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 × 𝐀𝐎𝟑

♡﹕Bored at work performing repetitive choreography and pleasing faceless demons, you find yourself reminiscing on life, death, and limbo.

♫ envy baby ~ ♫

“Lights clear? Sounds clear?” 

“We’ve been fucking over this Steven! We’ll know it’s clear when they finally stop tuning our shit-” 

“Anne chill, we still have six minutes till airing. Don’t waste all your energy on the roadie.” 

“That crowd doesn’t seem to be getting any quieter does it…” The little imp’s observations were now only being met by eyerolls and silent treatment by the two drummer girls as the completed instruments silenced in countdown. 

Lights crew above, sounds crew from behind, and effects team surround. The way every single backstage member of your cast would run and scurry around you to get their various tasks done always made you think of little mice, rats even, so worked up making sure everything was in perfect position before those curtains had a chance to stop separating you, from them.

It was cute enough to make you laugh as though you were still a highschool girl.

“Broadcasting live in 60 seconds!” Dark blue scene lighting begins to fade your entire surrounding to a pitch black, and among doing so freezes your little mice into statues all around. Only the tiniest crack in the fabric ahead illuminated the space with a sharp vertical line down the curves of the figure that stands as the adorning center piece of this particular attraction. Roaring bass brings about a quake to the stage beneath your feet, queuing time for you to give your puppies a treat.

“Awwwe~ Did we leave you waiting long?” The volume of pure passionate devotion always rang to your ears louder than any electrical speaker could achieve. 

The wave of the new future adorned in electrical inventions was something you’ve always been prepared to face; why even in the faint blur of the overworld it was all the grown ups could ever yap enough of! No, that wasn’t where that bitter taste came from.

In the full truth of things, you just never knew you’d stick around long enough to bear full witness to its infection of mankind.

Oh come on. Who are we kidding right now?

“Hi. I wanna people save, all right? ”

You’ve never been more liberated.

“You’re in m-my way!!”

Your eyes have but a second to adjust to the flood of bright neon before life hits play once again. The choreography you, and and the other 4 devils fanned out beside you have programmed into your bodies for the past months flow across the stage with ease. among the camera men you can make out the mass of waving pen lights stirred ablaze after the long anticipation, oh how you love they always use the color dearest to your heart…

“The tightrope falls, broken by others”

Once you felt the rushing high of the stage the first time around tolerance for it subsided immediately after. You’ve seen the looks on those poor saps down in the front row, each one hyper fixated on every movement you make wishing they could be you, or be up here with you.

And of course, you all flash them bright smiles, longing gazes and praise them with verses of purity more fitting for the angelic souls looming up above. Customer service is the utmost desired, as they say!

“What a lady, she’s gonna jump

towards the light and shatter humiliatingly”

Actually, can you even remember when your first performance was? How old were you even? All of this came from a cheap shot of gaining a few quick pennies back in the day. Landing yourself a handsome and rich husband with the filth you wore on your back was the first childhood dream you found dead on arrival, but what you were cursed in status you were blessed with the cuteness that made kittens hiss in envy. To say you had “the voice of a goddess” would mayhaps be a bit too presumptuous, but who were you to refute the compliment when it came your way?

Well, maybe trying to parse through finding the day your career debuted or took off was a fool's errand, but the moment it ended certainly still remains as a burned film stuck to your mind. You stopped caring about the “Oh woes me~ what did I do to deserve this~” a long time ago. Still, the punishment you received in death far exceeded what you ever did to earn in your eyes, more so than your sentencing of eternal damnation.

“High and without care I’m lonely, lonely”

Right on que, as always every time you reach exactly 32 seconds into your first song the intrusive memory flashes the same images of the past over your current reality it almost feels as if you were stuck suffering that fate again each time.

You wish there was more to say on the matter of your demise, but there’s only a brief two second window between staring down some heckling loud mouth making a scene in the crowd and a bomb beneath the stage going off before your soul is falling down under the earth’s crust as a blazing comet onto the asphalt below.

And two days before your 21st birthday too are you serious?! UN-Fucking believable!

“From their idle words, the clown becomes a prisoner”

The only thing you wanted to do was scream in the immense burning agony you were suffering until the whole world knew the kind of pain you were in, but each time you cried not even a croak could get past your scorched throat

Even after the blazes subsided and your charred cocoon was all that was left behind, the inferno decided your vocal chords were going to be its payment.

…. That was it?

This was your payout…

And after all that work…

“It’s the same love as always, no way I’d have regrets”

Surreal didn’t even begin to describe what became of the following weeks, months, you haven’t a clue. The construct of night and day seemed to mean jack in the bizzare wonderland of maddness holding you, only so much telling what shade of putrid red in the sky was darker than the same shade of fucking red from two hours ago! What a productive way to spend your newfound endless time!

Every aspect of this place made you absolutely sick, enough so to have you still praying you just were drugged and having the worst trip of your fucking life, but the horror in maddness is the consistency that lies between the lines. You’re certain that damned illuminated “WELCOME TO HELL!” sign and the stranger you befriended in the mirror was that line that made you finally cave.

“Hey, it's a amazing.”

Honestly, you couldn’t say what specifically led you into the epiphany you had, all of a sudden one day you heard a sudden snapping sound in your conscience, and like that everything made sense to you. Why your life was snuffed before you could emerge from your cocoon, why your makers deemed this your new home, and why that bomb taking your life just wasn’t enough to deem your afterlife a hell.

There was a certain liberation that came with hell that you were never going to get being the glowing little diamond you were in human society, through terrorism, cannibalism and bloodshed one thing would remain a constant throughout devil society. No one would ever give a damn about anything.

Hell became your fucking playground by the time your first extermination came around, and keeping on the move while broke as shit was a cakewalk this time around, but your first encounter with an overlord after catching your foot in the grave in the casino humbled your inflating ego. Chaos for society did not necessarily mean chaos without hierarchy, and going without a voice to call your own put you at an extreme disadvantage.

“LA-LA-LA!”

The crescendo of the opener is right around the corner, for the leading front and center of your group your vocals and choreography had primarily remained reserved for backup. The primary color of lights among the crowd made the obvious clear with who the majority of these demons were here to see, your manager was aware of this more than anyone else.

Your fans tended to be aware of this for a majority of your shows, your parts in particular tended to stand out even as mere background vocals.

“I’m ready for this this lover baby! 

My garden of love is in danger from a drawing hand. 

Truly, this this lover’s crazy! 

In the garden of harm, the bud of a human is a lie-ai-a!”

Sinners rejoice once the solo everyone was edging towards drops with the bass of the loudspeakers and the flares of the strobes above. The pitches your vocals were now capable of hitting and the frequency you were able to synthesize between notes wasn’t just inhuman, it was impossible for any singer whose notes carried on oxygen.

Your manager always made it a note in the writing room or when creating your setlists that overfeeding wolves with delicious treats would dull the taste over time, your solo singles often did well enough to prove this didn’t need to always be the case, but whenever it came to the business decisions you always put your full trust in him. Where you are standing right now is more than enough proof in your eyes that he knew exactly where and when to move his pawns, and in doing so he turned you into a valiant queen.

“Ah! I love you and even things about you I probably shouldn’t love 

I love you too much, on a count of one and two 

Lie-lie loving you, such words 

and doing such things, you’re in m-my way!”

Survival was of the least of your concerns after so much time had passed, but survival was all you could find yourself able to do in your forced retirement. Where you yearn for character in sound you were able to temporarily find when turning to radio, but living vicariously only quenches so much before greed starts cozying up within.

Plausible excuses for your laziness were wearing thinner by the day, even the last sane smolder of human morality trying to keep itself sparked wanted nothing more than to argue you weren’t supposed to be living to the fullest in hell, but the mute silence in your throat was beginning to phase your memory of the voice your inner conscience called its own too, and you'd sooner go mad trying than wither away again a fucking waste.

“Here comes the love maniac who never misses,

Stack up all the whining,

Fall in a high-fi love lie-ai-a!”

Overlords were still beings that had you nauseous upon first glance, your first meeting of one of these overlords had you vowing to never end up in the claws of one again, should you find yourself in a deal you can’t unbind yourself out of. Pride stuck thick to the roof of your mouth and there was nothing more you wanted to do than stick to your morals and prove use on your own, but reality had pelted you with stones throughout your entire afterlife.

You were going to need to write out a loan before you’d find yourself with any ounce of power to call your own, not like you didn’t have options for whom to choose! Even so, you needed to keep a steady head and an even sharper nose. In your ponderance you'd come to realize there was only really one option for you to go to this whole time. Maybe that gambling kitty taught you a valuable lesson on staking bets in the long run.

“Copy their acting and keep the truth hidden

Stacking three and lonely, lonely 

You’re surely a clown, a prisoner”

A bet on the future was what you were going to stake it all on.

“Copy their acting and keep the truth hidden

Stacking three and lonely, lonely 

You’re surely a clown, a prisoner”

Everything about how the world operated changed so rapidly from the days walking in the sunlight to your eternal party in the redlight, the wave of the future had finally hit with the promise for a solution to everyones problems. There couldn’t have been any better timing, if technology was going to be the way of the future, who's to say you couldn’t prove what was achievable? Like that, you had your sales pitch. The hardest part on your end was complete.

“Hey, it's a amazing.

LA-LA-LA!”

“So you were a singer in life and lost your voice in death, and just what the fuck made you think I was the man to go to for this?” Those were the magic words you were waiting for, with his composure shaken it wasn’t long before he was the one asking the questions and allowing the ball to move into your court. Your fingers dance on the illuminated tablet laying on the table once again before you flip it over toward his direction.

~Have your inventions not made it to that level of advancement yet?

Hook, line, and sinker. You had a hunch a passive aggressive challenge toward the ego would be what ultimately won you over with any overlord you chose, but the speed in which he stood from his desk and held out his hand, it felt almost too easy.

“If it’s a new voice you wish to invest in, consider your stocks opened, Monarch!” Finally…

“I’m ready for this this lover baby! 

My garden of love is in danger from a drawing hand.”

“Now for what you have to offer me,” You don’t care. “I hope you weren’t planning on extorting me out of a generous gift and then making the big bucks with it, hm?” These overlords just love to hear themselves go on.

“Truly, this this lover’s crazy! 

In the garden of harm, the bud of a human is a lie-ai-a!”

“I suppose I could just issue a royalty for your voice, after all you wouldn’t be making a sound without my tech. Lucky for you, I’ve been having fleeting thoughts of entering the music industry. So why not invest in each other instead~”

“Ah I love you and even things about you I probably shouldn’t love 

I love you too much, on a count of one and two”

Being owned by an overlord in the end wasn’t so bad, or maybe this is the fated “stockholm syndrome” everyone seems to be crying about these days. Either way, the biggest price you had to pay in the end was just having someone else do all the “business” part in show business.

Naive maybe, but rosey eyed you weren't. For all that he’s done you still fail to see how your end of the deal has in any way repaid what’s given, which can only lead to one thing down the line. You were going to have to give him your everything.

… Yet, how could you find yourself ungrateful to someone who fulfilled your afterlife dream and still continued to provide for you?

“Lie-lie loving you, such words and even such things, they’re in m-my way!”

The audience went absolutely ballistic at the final group pose signifying the end of your opening set, some of the really hardcore fans in the front row you swore passed out the second eye contact was made.

Yet when you turn your chin upward to the VIP section after performing your tricks so well, all you’re met with is a turned back and a schmoozed up producer instead of a tasty bone.

“Thank each and every one of you for coming to see us tonight!!” No, you only wanted him to come out to see you.

Only you.

Hey, Vox?

Can you just turn your stupid flat head this way?

[peterspinkrobe]

Creature Comforts - Drabble

W/C: 1,575 (I know drabbles are supposed to be shorter but I have no self-control)

Warnings: mentions of male nudity, injury/blood, hurt & comfort

A/N: Happy (early) birthday to me!! NSFW version of cover image here @Ejpuki on Twitter is amazing and I’m commissioning another priest!Miguel piece from them for chapter 5. Go support them! I hope you enjoy this piece. As you can tell from my user, Peter’s robe is very dear to me ❤️👚

Once again forgotten by its usual wearer and not being used for its intended purpose, it splayed out across the boss’s command center. It observed without seeing and listened without hearing on the platform above the large, empty office of the arachno-humanoid-poly multiverse HQ. Unaware that its normal temperature from resting on the shoulders of Peter B Parker had long seeped into the cold surface of the table it sprawled on.

The new father had tossed the pink robe aside earlier that night after unstrapping his daughter Mayday from her restraints and unintentionally pawning her off on ‘Uncle’ Miles. A meganomily had been discovered ravaging an Earth who’s Spider-Man had yet to have their leap of faith. This type of distress signal called for the more trained, or at least in Peter B’s case the… older, Spiders to respond. Certainly not the time to have a toddler strapped to your chest.

They had returned from the successful yet grueling mission nearly an hour ago. The lack of sleep from keeping up with a spider baby and the intensity of the mission left him entirely drained. He only stopped by HQ before heading back home to MJ to pick up his daughter and some of those fancy 2099 epidermal patch bandages for his bruised and scratched body. The robe out-of-mind as he cocooned the spider baby in webbing to get her back to their dimension.

The soft hum of neon monitors is the only noise for a long while. The screens cast colors across the fluffy fabric of the robe. Suddenly the platform begins to lower.

Below it, Miguel O’Hara gathers his things for the long night of research ahead. The slow pace of the platform allows him plenty of time to pour a mug of much needed caffeine and collect himself before pouring into his work. It takes a lot of concentration not to limp around his office for the crew really took a beating, himself included. His body is covered in already blackening bruises and lesions that have only just started healing after patching himself up in the bathroom. No amount of super healing could so quickly mend the wounds he’d received from the emergency response mission.

He can’t help but wince when he looks up towards the floating office space coming down to meet him. He rubs his neck and knows that if he feels like this now, tomorrow will be hell. His overstimulated senses made it so that he stood bare below the declining platform. With it being so late, his doors locked, and Lyla on DND for the evening, he figured his naked figure shouldn’t be an issue since he wouldn’t be disturbed. He couldn’t even handle the lights of his digitized suit or be bothered to try and put clothes on his marked body. His blood felt as though it were on fire in his veins.

Any attempt at keeping his composure melted away in the shower he had taken earlier. The scolding water ran over cuts and mixed with his blood before draining at his feet. Finally alone, he cursed himself for putting the team in danger the way he had. He couldn’t help the tears fusing with the water droplets that fell onto his face. Mayday almost lost her father and Miguel could blame no one for himself.

The thought makes him wince again, but no tears. He only feels anger now. How had he not seen the blatant traps they were being led to by that particularly sadistic Doctor Octavius variant? He knew somehow that the Spiders were on their way to stop him and nearly killed them. Doc was now being held in a secure cell instead of the laughable rectangles the other variant villains waited inside for their turn on the Go-Home-Machine. Miguel needed answers, and intended on paying him a visit later.

After having dealt with the Spot, Miguel wondered just how many others out there knew how easy it was to alter the fate of the multiverse.

The analytical anger turns to annoyance as he steps onto the platform. Peter left that stupid robe laid over his desk again. The manchild knew nothing of boundaries and personal space. He grabbed it to toss it over the side of the platform, having to consciously keep his claws sheathed to not rip through the silly piece of attire. The only reason it’s not in shredded at this moment is because Miguel knows it helps Peter’s shoulders with the baby carrier. He also thinks of how she’ll rub the robe on her cheek when her eyes start to droop drowsily.

Miguel considers the image of the sleepy child nuzzling into the fuzzy robe and, instead of throwing it over the edge, brings the fabric to his own cheek. Hands hesitantly hold the pink coat against his face. The robe does not respond to the tightening grip as Miguel holds it against his chest.

The brooding man brings the bundle to his face and buries into the billowy housecoat. He inhales the various smells that stick to the coat: A blend of Peter’s cologne and MJ’s perfume waft towards him as well as a sourish scent that was no doubt the result of Mayday spit up. It smelled lived in. It smelled like family.

He allowed the material to unravel from his hands and he looked at the robe in its full view. He couldn’t tell the last time it had been washed, if ever. Upon closer inspection, he saw stains of different foods and drinks. It would be impossible to tell if it was Peter or his baby that made those messes. A small hole could be seen at the bottom of the robe’s hem, perhaps from the wear and tear of a mission. Miguel mentally cursed Peter for never taking care of his things but he knows that Peter B shows his love in different ways. Peter accepts the muck and stick, bathes in the imperfections of things.

Before Miguel can understand what he is doing, he starts to put an arm into one of the sleeves. Despite the mated bits on the coat, the inside is velvety on his heated skin. The feather-like material glides across his shoulders as he puts the robe on fully.

Miguel stands awkwardly beside the armchair on the platform as it ascends slowly back into the air above his office. His face burns hot thinking that someone finding him like this would be more embarrassing than if he was just nude. But the comfort of the robe softly fights back against his woes. The shaggy cloth hugs his skin in a way that doesn’t make him want to claw at himself.

Suddenly, a wave of nostalgia washes over him. He turns to his computers and looks for the file that flashed in his mind. He opens the file named “Christmas 2090 - Bike” and presses play. As the title suggests, the video opens on a zoomed in image of snow outside a window. It zooms out and slowly a Christmas tree and the furniture of a living in the future pan into view. The one recording shows the piles of presents under the tree and the decorations no doubt created by the child who darts into view. The video records her expression at the sight of the gifts and her running up to hug the one videoing. The child is smiling from ear to ear and her hair is still matted from her sleep that Christmas Eve.

Miguel takes a seat on the armchair and watches as Gabriella opens her gifts. He smiles softly at her enthusiasm. There is no sound, but Miguel can hear her bubbly laughter when she unwraps a large box containing her first bicycle. Tears threaten his eyes when the camera pans around to show himself looking into the camera. He is wearing a plush, plaid robe of his own in the video. Gabriella runs up to him and kisses her father on the cheek. A ghost of his former self watches through blurry vision at the family he used to have.

The videos begin to autoplay and Miguel huddles into himself watching the memories of his daughter dance across the screens. The robe unknowingly comforts the crumbled man on the couch, embracing him in unspoken softness. Fluffy pink patches of fuzz caress his skin when his body shifts slightly to lay back in the chair. The bathrobe holds him in a way he hasn’t been held in a long while and his eyes grow heavy in its embrace. Any semblance of a night of research is long gone as Miguel slumped into the chair, homemade family videos playing to an audience of a snoring man and a particularly soft, yet unaware, robe.

Even if Lyla is on Do Not Disturb, she can still see all. As an omniscient AI assistant it’s in her programming to bypass safewalls and get info she shouldn’t. She smiles at the scene of her large boss sprawled out in the chair, sleeping soundly. A sight that she hasn’t seen in the past few nights as he usually catches cat naps during his busy work days.

She may not be able to disturb Miguel, but she does send a message to Weaver - a Spider-Man whose hobby is tailoring. She includes the blueprints of a secret sewing mission for him:

A blue robe with a specific Spider logo embroidered on the chest.

[starcursedluvrs]

doomsday teaser

actor!gojo x techie!geto AU :)

hey y'all! thank you for all the love on Talk, I really appreciate every single like, comment, and reblog. i've started part II, and it should be out within 2 or 3 weeks (i'm a busy lady sorry). in a mean time, here's a little bite of another fic i wrote/am still working on. it's a techie!geto x actor!gojo AU where suguru is a wardrobe crew head for a hit broadway musical, and satoru is the star. this one is for all the former (and current) theater kids (kids as in people above the age of 18, MDNI!). there will be lots of smut and angst and plot to come, but for now, plz enjoy <3

wc: 845

With that, Suguru took a deep sigh and finished walking down the narrow hallway. His shoes squeaked considerably less as he climbed the winding iron staircase up to the cast’s personal dressing rooms. When he got to the top, he was distracted by a white-haired man violently shaking the vending machines in an attempt to release a chocolate bar from its clutches.  

Then he saw those eyes. 

Those beautiful, bright blue eyes. They looked like they contained the entire sky.

Suguru started sorting through color theory in his head to think about which piece of fabric would go best with those brilliant irises. 

“Do, uh. Do you need some help there, doll?” Suguru offered, flustered. 

The man just stared back at Suguru for a moment, before responding, “Sure, crazy bangs. That would be great.” 

“Not sure crazy bangs is such a great comeback from someone who’s attacking a vending machine,” Suguru bantered back. 

“Hey, it’s not my fault my boss man loves chocolate. Gotta stock up for him.”

“Oh, are you Mr. Gojo’s manager?”

“Never thought about it like that. Huh. Guess I am.” 

“Will I see you around then?”

“I guess you could say that, crazy bangs,” the white-haired man said with a smirk. 

A tense moment passed as the two men locked eyes. The mysterious blue-eyed beauty scanned Suguru’s body up and down with no shame. Suguru should have felt self-conscious, but he found himself oddly endeared by the man in front of him. Suguru felt a slight blush prickle over the skin of his cheeks.  

“So when is Mr. Gojo arriving?” Suguru asserted to break the silence. “I have some things I wanted to run over with him in terms of quick changes.” 

“So. You’re costumes?” 

“Yeah.” Suguru answered. Did he say the wrong thing? 

“Makes sense.” The lengthy white haired man smirked and turned on the ball of his foot and started walking - no, sashaying - to the door of Mr. Gojo’s dressing room. As the man opened the door, Suguru caught it behind him. 

“Why does it make sense, doll?” Suguru allowed a soft smile to appear on his lips. For the first time in a while, Suguru was flirting. 

And he was having fun. 

“Because. You’re so serious. You costume and props people always have sticks up your asses.” The man retorted with a snort. 

Suguru rolled his eyes, a verbal bite lingering on his words, “We’re just trying to do our jobs.” 

Even though the blue-eyed stranger was  taller, Suguru seemed to tower over him at that moment. 

“Well, I’m just trying to do mine.” Suguru couldn’t tell if this guy was a douche or if he was also flirting back. He hoped for his sake, it was the ladder. Unfortunately, he also had a job to do. No matter, he still had time to get to know this attractive stranger.

“Great. So, do you have an ETA on your client?” 

“Client? What client?” The man looked so confused. 

“…Mr. Gojo…” 

“Oh, we’re still playing that game.” 

“What game?” 

“You seriously don’t know who I am?” 

“You’re Mr. Gojo’s manager.” Suguru stated. 

The white haired man burst into a fit of hysterical laughter. It took a second for him to collect himself.

“Hot and funny. I’m keeping you around, crazy bangs.”

Suguru’s brain short circuited at that. Attractive stranger also finds him attractive. Noted.

“Haha,” Suguru offered a weak, uncomfortable laugh,”Not that I wouldn’t want that too, but I really have a job to do, doll.” 

Those blue eyes blinked in disbelief. 

“Wow. You’re serious, ok. Let’s start over.”

The man stuck out his hand, which looked as if it was crafted of the finest porcelain.

“I’m Satoru Gojo. It’s nice to meet you, what’s your name?”

Suguru looked at Satoru until it finally clicked in his head. So this was the brat Nanami was talking about. 

Suguru shook his hand hesitantly, as another question crossed his mind. “You said you were Gojo’s manager though,” Suguru pointed out.

“You’re putting words in my mouth, I said I had never thought of it that way. I guess I am kind of like my own manager because I don’t have one. I manage myself, thank you very much,” Satoru turned his nose and dramatically looked away from Suguru.

“But… who’s boss man?” 

“Oh that’s what I call Nanami. I asked him what his favorite candy was and I’m stocking up on it so that every time I annoy him, I can apologize with a chocolate bar.” 

A deep rumble left Suguru’s chest as he laughed at Satoru’s comment.

“I’m sure Nanami loves being called boss man.” 

“Oh please, he’ll grow into the nickname. Didn’t get your name yet though, crazy bangs.”

“Suguru Geto. Wardrobe Crew Head.” 

“If I see you around later, maybe I can show you how it feels to have something other than a stick up your ass.”

Banners by @bunnysrph

[astralartefact]

Placeholder Name for Atarase's Media Diary

Entry 003 - NieR Reincarnation <<Prev: Dragon's Dogma 2

Synopsis

Living in the shadow of its predecessors a [g___] grapples with the fact that it was born shouldering the burden of Reincarnation.

And don't forget, Mother is watching. Don't. fuck it up.

gambling that whatever they announce next week makes parts of this post irrelevant

How much did I know before playing?

I played it since the JP launch despite not understanding a single word and I've played every DrakeNieR Adjacent thing in existence except for DoD2 (no interest, sry) and... NieR Automata which I refuse to play at this point - but I guess that just means you can't complain that I haven't played DoD2 lol.

Did I like it more than I expected?

I did in fact not expect the Gacha game to turn out the best NieR game but here we are.

Since I liked it, here's what I hated about it

Despite its (to me) clear intention to present a diverse and not particularly "objectified" cast it still has a visible bias towards a certain group of characters - by which i of course mean the waifus, because those make more money. But it means that certain characters never get the 'worthless' free event units while some only get them - snd I mean, just look at Priyet who has 3 less costumes than Yurie who came out months after her.

Also, the story was clearly supposed to be longer, especially with 10H's more-than-swift in- and ex-troduction, but tbh I didn't particularly mind it? 'Cutting it short' didn't ruin anything even though it could have taken the game a bit longer to end - but I wouldn't have said no to a Purple Season 3 Chapter either.

Also also, 'Tis evident that this ludus has maybe one singular mention of our Lord and Saviour YoRHa:Dark Apocalypse (henceforth referred to as Y:DA) - and even that one mention is marvelously vague. Father, are you ashamed of your best work? Is it because it doesn't qualify as its own game? Please, I beg of you to acknowledge the existence of the Crime & Punishment fanfiction sequel you wrote in a MMORPG cross-over! Do it for meeee!

What did this game make me think about?

Reincarnation is a Cage.

Specific Impressions that will stick with me

Honestly? A lot, so this is very non exhaustive.

The Art, both 2D and 3D, especially the very limited usage of color.

The Story and how exactly it was written. Every single line in this game pulls at the same rope and that's impressive for a game that's basically a very, very complicatedly put together Collection of Vignettes written from more than 5 people.

How thought through this game's structure is - how and when what kind of story was introduced/unlocked, stuff like that. I even thought "the grind" wasn't pointless okay, sue me but it makes the pay-off from the ex stories feel better.

Sarafa and Priyet

Outstanding Audio

The entire soundtrack, as always the crew at MONACA is beyond mere mortals - and honestly, Shotaro Seo deserves more credit for his NieR work!!! (also he's cute but that's besides the point)

Here are some fave picks:

Inori, Kizuna & the S3 Main Theme

Kusabi (i love seo's voice i think its so funny that they just used him as the male voice)

Mizukagami

Madan & the S3 Battle Themes

The Return of Normandy

The Mourning Mother Theme, All Versions (if this one doesn't come back in one of the next games i swear to mother)

The Final Boss Theme

Favorite Character

this is so hard why would Past!Me make me choos- Sarafa.

also mama, dark mama and papa and fio and levania and saryu and yudil and priyet and yuzuki and hina and argo (bc he's an idiot) and akeha and frenlise (still not sure why that's the only name they changed) and- all of them, i love all of them, some more than others but all of them except for the carrier, fuck the carrier also anogg y:da should be on this list

Favorite Arc/Story Line

Sun/Moon Story

Favorite Set Piece

The S3 Cage is so fcking gorgeous, around every corner another compositional marvel, they went above and beyond.

Favorite Scene

Priyet's Hidden Stories

The Library

Mourning Mother

Best Performance (I played with JP voices)

Yumi Hara as Mama.

--- ENTERING THE PRETENTIOUS SECTION OF THIS ENTRY --- reminder that the pretentious section is called that way for a reason, don't take it too seriously

What about this game gives me Hope for the future of gaming?

I guess the death of the Common Gacha is somewhat imminent if even Square Enix is giving up on it. A shame that what's left in its wake (the Gacha with "Gameplay Value") is so much more worrisome than shitty jpg dispensers ever could be.

And I don't know, I guess I'm just excited for Yoko Taro's next big hit because he has yet to really miss. Sadly this game won't set any industry standards in the ways I would like it to :/

What about this game makes me scared for the future of gaming?

The Internet has figured out that complaining about things that everybody agrees is bad is fun - and that's nothing new. What's new is that they have at this point seen enough video essays to make their incessant complaining sound like "Criticism."

The problem I have with that is that these surface level "Criticisms" taint the stage, so to speak. Everyone is constantly mad at the mere mention of Microtransactions or of Gacha Games (except, of course, if it's one of the popular ones) and it makes it so that "not critizising" Gacha Games for even just existing in the first place makes you "uncritical."

Can you tell by my usage of Quotation Marks that I do not like the word Criticism anymore?

And I wish that my only stake with this is that I think this shit is annoying as fuck. That I think it sucks that every person having something, anything genuine to say about this game feels the need to state how they know Gacha games are bad because Capitalism sucks - a so surface level fact I would genuinely struggle to believe anyone who would agree with that hasn't already caught on to it yet.

But no - that's where our public interrogation of this type of media starts and ends, because god forbid we have a more nuanced opinion about this shit than "Gacha Bad".

Instead of talking about anything below the surface, good or bad, be it the artistic merits of this game I really like or the actually deeply fucked up evolution on the Gacha Formula the Industry is going through to make their practices more palatable despite being so much worse and deeply ingrained into everything else - resulting in an ecosystem that's so much more dangerous than anything Square Enix could ever hope to come up with.

Instead of talking about any of that I get to hear people act high and mighty about how smart and brave they are for voicing an opinion everybody shares with them.

Meanwhile Hoyoverse has made it cool to just take whatever game is currently popular and turn it into an industrial-grade FOMO machine printing object women of the week and money and everybody unironically endorses it, creates endless amounts of free publicity through fan-art & co, feeding into this FOMO cycle that's already exacerbated by games solely built to drive you to FOMO through all of its built-in game design mechanisms - all so you gamble your money away for your own enjoyment - but that's 'better', actually, 'because it has good gameplay.'

[This is where I cut a lengthy section about how Japanese Idols and Gacha Games are both selling the same things. It was very informative and you are disappointed you're missing out on this quality content.]

Because clearly, the problem with Gacha Games has all this time been that Gacha Games have boring gameplay and not that they do everything in their power to addict people into spending money on parasocial relationships to people (mostly women) that don't even exist, all to impress themselves and their friends.

and also you guys it looks kind of silly when you say 'good riddance, you cheap cash-grab' to a game that a) clearly wasn't that cheap and b) clearly didn't grab that much cash

The Ramble Section where I get to actually talk about what I thought about

[This is where I cut a lengthy section about my complicated feelings towards Video Game Archiving and how Lore is a blight. It was very informative and you are disappointed you're missing out on this quality content.]

So a couple days ago Yoko Taro met up with the Stellar Blade guy and the only thing I can think about is... well...

Was 2B a mistake?

I mean, it's kind of a sign of how good he is at analyzing the topic at hand so take that as you will, but the fact is that Yoko Taro set out to create the most objectifiable women he could think of - and he was so good at it she has become what is probably the most objectified female character of our time.

And yet, despite knowing that that's not really a good thing - because clearly he did all of that for a reason and Reincarnation didn't really do all that despite being a Gacha - he continues to just... enable people (and by people I do mean Men) to keep doing these kinds of disgusting behaviours to an entire gender, fictional or not. Things that Automata at least to some degree criticizes through 9S (like there's a reason he's the final boss you guys)

And I guess it just feels shitty to see Yoko Taro publicly give this game his stamp of approval when the entire existential premise for Stellar Blade seems to be that clip of Yoko Taro saying "I just really like girls"; a shitty quote that 100% has caused women some societal harm he has yet to r3pent for because Gamers took it and ran - and now we have another game with a big tits SciFi Woman for Men to objectify and I'm pretty sure this one won't have the underlying subtext of "maybe objectifying women is not all that great you guys"

But then there's stuff like putting a shallow husk of 2B - and they somehow also always feature the butt out version too, isn't that interesting - into any game that will take her - which is pretty much every game that is physically able to because thanks to her standing for nothing but ass woman in the popular conscious everyone wants a piece of that free money from horny gamers.

And I guess I have to legally state that that's fine or else the horny fun police is taking me in, but with how he's treating this character outside of the game it feels like it does such a disservice to the points he makes in his games (plural bc of dod3) and that fucking sucks because clearly the world isn't ready to move on from 2B so she'll be around, and with her a symbol that actually, it's fine to objectify your female characters - full stop because nobody but us few cares about the things he's criticizing through subtext.

And it sucks that to SquareEnix her stupid ass (like literally just her ass) is going to overshadow anything Reincarnation has ever done, all the interesting points it makes about societal agency and human relationships and gender and consent and family - because I wouldn't be surprised if NieR 4 manages to barely acknowledge Reincarnation's existence at all while still churning out YoRHa DLC - I mean just look at how they treat Drakengard, which for its 20th anniversary got... an entire tweet.

Like. They didn't even play Reincarnation Music at the NieR Concert!!! Not even Inori!!! It's been three years, why was there no Reincarnation Music at the fucking NieR concert??? I guess we'll just hear Grandma and Kainé and Weight of the World Remixes forever because squeenix mandated that everything that's not the big 2 games can only be referenced in vague subtext (and listen, I love how NieR treats Drakengard Lore, I will be severly disappointed if he ever actually explains any of it - it just hurts my soul that Kuroi Hana has never been performed live) (also y:da's final boss theme should have been a kuroi hana arrangement and not kainé but i guess licensing is a bitch so there's that)

But I mean it is kind of funny that NieR Reincarnation is in a Reincarnation Cage of its own. It's living in the shadow of its predecessors, grappling with the fact that it was born shouldering the burden of Reincarnation. Another Yoko Taro story whose story is about itself. (can i interest you in a german review i wrote where i explain which other yoko taro story also does that) (it's y:da, it's always y:da)

I guess all I can say is that you're clowning about Women, Yoko Taro, and I really hate that. Do Better, as they say. I wish you would publicly talk about literally anything else at this point, especially since you made a good point and then ruined it by not just simply shutting up about it like you do about anything else you do. (remember the ff14 live stream where he proceeded to not answer a single question about y:da? iconic behavior and absolutely the right choice)

And you have so many other good points to make that you could talk about instead! ...then again I swear to mother if Kamierabi really is about how Abortions are bad I will abort you, we have a perfectly capable successor in Yuki Wada right there. (btw praise be Yuki Wada, the true hero of this story, living his dream with his two nier ocs hina and yuzuki)

[chuplayswithfire]

I’d like to ask you, as a white person who reads your posts about ofmd and race because it is genuinely something I don’t see and these perspectives are important—but every time you mention the bar scene in episode 10 I can’t help thinking that your analysis of Stede’s behavior and the men’s reaction hinges on them knowing that Blackbeard isn’t white. And how could they? They believe his head is made of fire. Maybe not literally but the point is they almost certainly don’t know that he’s not white and so doesn’t that mean that their demands for Stede to reinforce their assumptions have more to do with them just wanting to relish the idea of a monstrous bloodthirsty pirate because it fills some hole in their own dull lives, and not as a way of othering a person of color?

I'm going to take this in good faith and answer it earnestly, because I get that this can be easy to be lost but -

here's the thing.

firstly, no one besides Stede *actually* believes that ed has a flaming, or smoking head. this is show very clearly by the fact that the entire crew are rolling their eyes or otherwise scoffing.

secondly, ed is clearly recognized as blackbeard by everyone from random dutch merchants to random people living on st. augustine. no one is surprised that blackbeard is a nonwhite man. it is a well known quantity, in fact, that blackbead is a nonwhite man, because no one ever mistakes izzy hands for blackbeard even though he has a much blacker beard than ed at this point, who really ought to be salt and pepper beard, as he pointed out.

so like. that makes it pretty clear that people know. besides the fact that there ARE pictures of ed. in books. we see two different artistic renditions of ed, and while we don't get to read the descriptions because they're unimportant to the point being made in the episodes where those images are shown.... we can expect that these published accounts of blackbeard will describe him as nonwhite perhaps not explicitly maori, but like. his nonwhiteness will be a known factor. it is improbable that the racist as fuck societies of the 1700s wouldn't mention it.

so its very very very likely that the entire world of those interested in pirates can easily know that blackbeard isn't white.

thirdly.... even asking "but could they KNOW that he's not-white when they eagerly ask about how blood-thirsty and monstrous edward teach is, wanting all the gory details, in a scene that tempts stede to dehumanize ed in a way that immediately casts him as not being human, not being like them, not being a person, being an other" is like.... affording good faith that none of these clearly casually cruel and bored with their lives white men deserves.

and finally, the most important thing is, this is a TV show, and its written and filmed with intent - which means that the writing and production and acting team all expect that we, the viewing audience, will be able to put together that when stede is in this room of only white men, eagerly asking for the secret true details and the awful gory nature of edward teach, maori man, brown man, nonwhite man, that there is racism afoot, because when awful and even, regular, white people who would never think of themselves as awful, group together, they love love to "let down their hair" so to speak and express racist sentiments they'd express around the people of color in their lives.

so we know that they know, because this is a tv show, and the writing team knows that WE know, and this moment is about what we see Stede do, and the betrayal he commits, and the reasons he immediately feels so bad - because he gave into this to make himself feel better, to prove his place with these people - over holding true.

[rpgsandbox]

25 Magical Artifact Adventure Seeds

by Robb at readytorole.com

The Chaos Blade is said to be a sword forged in the fires of the world when it was still forming. The since ruined Temple of Order were the last known keepers of the accursed weapon but murmurs have emerged of many treasure hunters looking for it.

The rise of demons serving under the dark god has led to an increased search for the lost temple of the goddess of love. Her holy weapon, the maul Heartbreaker, is the only weapon known that could defeat the dark god, her former lover.

The Staff of Soulcatching has made its way into the hands of the mad queen and she is already abusing the powers of it. A rogue faction has been seeking adventurers brave enough to siege the castle before she siphons the souls of her entire city.

A pair of throwing daggers, Lionspride and Wolfspack, are entombed in a statue of two brother generals stabbing each other at their final battle. Many have tried to pry them from the statue but magic repels all but siblings from even trying.

A famous escape artist was once the owner of the aptly named Doordagger; a dagger that could carve a door into any surface. She and the crew of the ship that were detaining her met their end when she thought to carve a door into the bottom of the ship, not expecting to immediately flood the ship and drown with her captors.

Originally a gift to mortals by the god of nature, the Longbow of the Harvest can spread and speed up the growth of flora by being cast over any land. A group of misguided druids have gotten their hands on it and now spread briers and poisonous plants towards civilization as a way to make them atone for their perceived crimes against nature.

The Maze of the Laughing God is home to a few treasures and many a trap, but the only ones ever recovered were the Lockpick Bolts used to magically undo locks from a distance. After the last bolt was used by a notorious criminal they are said to have returned to the maze, waiting to be won again.

In the underground tunnels that run beneath the dwarven mountains the Stoneshield has fallen into the hands of the wretched trolls. While they are unsure of how to wield its power, their shaman king wears it as a belt buckle to mock those who once had it.

A shield known as The Tower is famous for its ability to house its wielder inside of a magical tower at a moment’s notice. However, after the last wielder refused to leave, many feared his death, and many more feared so after seeing and hearing signs of the undead coming from the magical tower.

The otherworldly Djinnplate, crafted by the efreeti and other djinn, was stored in a magic lamp much as they sometimes are imprisoned. The effects of this wondrous armor are not known to mortals, but that has not stopped dragons of terrible renown from fighting over the lamp that holds the relic.

The Crowfeather Robe has been the ire of many an adventurer who sought to slay the infamous lich of the wastes. Whenever his defeat is imminent he simply turns into a murder of crows, flying away and appearing at whatever crow is most suitable to him as he returns to his lair.

The Cloak of the Colorless once gave a mercenary power to best the most experienced swordsmen in single battle. Misconstruing the intent of the cloak, a dryad that lived inside of a painting lured the mercenary inside where he would be forced to live in color without a way out of the painting.

They say to be wary of old women gambling away magic garments on the side of the road to travelers. A hag is known to lose away the Twicehexed Mantle to those down on their luck, first bringing them great fortune and then having them lose it all and then some for the entertainment of the hag.

In the dungeon of woe lies a relic that is key to escaping through its mouse-sized hallways. The Belt of Shrinking allows the wearer to tighten the belt, growing smaller as they do so until they stop pulling on it, though loosening it doesn’t seem to make you grow any larger.

The tribes of the desert have a legend that says inside every shooting star is a ring that will imbue the wearer with the strength of the star itself. One recently crashed down in the desert and the tribes have been in conflict over it ever since.

On the wrist of a most loved king in an ancient tomb is the Bracelet of the Worldeater. The bracelet is said to have been the key to destroying the entire world and was given to the king as a way to stop it from falling into the wrong hands. The sight of skeletons stirring in the tomb has given way to a terrible feeling of despair around the world.

In the Hall of the Unseen is the Ring of the Observer, a ring which allows anyone looking through it to see any and all invisible matter. The irony is that the Hall of the Unseen can only be seen through the ring, but the ring itself is visible to any who approach the hall, unable to reach it through invisible walls and protected by invisible creatures.

The prince of the cloud giants wears the Sun Necklace as a bracelet around his wrist. In truth the necklace can command the sun stay where it is or call it in the night, but even when told the prince refuses to give it up or use its power for good.

A fanatical group of anti-magic crusaders have taken up the Nullmagic Axe as a way to stop the use of magic in the region. The axe has been able to slice through magical barriers and weapons with ease, and effectively cuts down those with magic in their veins.

Yesterday’s Orb allows one to scry into events of the past and get a true understanding of history. A cult of chronomancers have seen to taking and hiding the orb as they fear some might use its power to change the timeline of the world and alter history and future both.

Alongside many other banners outside of a dragon’s cave is the Stoneheart Banner. Simply being in the presence of the immaculate banner removes the fear from mortals in the face of certain death, which the dragon has come to appreciate as his meals become more frequent.

Underneath a landslide are the Boots of the Immovable. What is not immovable is the rest of the body of one wearing these boots, which was found bloody and flattened at the bottom of the landslide.

After the king was poisoned, it was discovered his chef had been using a mysterious Gemstone of Flavor that had the ability to mask or enhance the flavors of any ingredients. When asked why he would do such a thing to his king the chef replied that the gemstone told him to.

A thousand years ago, a crazed gnomish sorcerer created the Clockwork Cube of Destruction. It laid dormant in his workshop until recently when it was seen rolling around the countryside, slaughtering livestock by simply touching them.

The archmage has put out a discrete call for adventurers to retrieve a stolen artifact of his. He claims that a thief must have bypassed his magical securities to take his Bag of Portals, which can pull any creature from any plane of existence randomly.

[weaselbeaselpants]

Lazy but basic soft redesign of the IMP crew, just to tone down some details

I wish I had more time to do more than trace over, but I had to rely on line art of the cast and going off the main color palette with screencaps to alter. I

Version 1, basic revision:

Version 2, my indulgent "redesign"...which is not my art so it's still just a lazy edit.

Moxxie = Yellow red(greed ring) | black markings (freckles and tail stripes) | wears fake ass drug dealer looking suit | wears a gangster's necktie alluding to Millie

Millie = Crimson(wrath ring) skin | maroon markings (scars) | tiny bodee but weird stub feet (under her jeans) | Wears outdoor work cloths worn from use | has a visible hanky hanging out her pocket alluding to Moxxie

Blitzo = ....sunburnt? red, as to hide what exact ring he comes from | white markings (vitiligo??) | hoves visible at the tip of feet | Skull decal is horse like to show off his love for horses | wears sleek, 'bad ass' looking clothing that makes him feel more threatening than he actually is.

Luna = Dark gray markings on arms and legs, the visible blip of 'cold' color in the other three's mostly warm palettes | visible claws on hands | flopped ears like a wolfhound, though otherwise resembles an elkhound still | wears her top, shorts, collar and piercings; her collar still binds her to Blitzo

For the specific 'redesign bits in version 2: All imps are as Viv's notes mention; a mix of vaguely reptilian and hooves. They are all different shades of red depending on what ring they come from which are almost entirely a singular color (greed = gold and bronz, wrath = redredred, pride = royal violet, lust = hot pink, gluttony = orange, envy = green, sloth = blue. Pentagram city, which is where Hazbin takes place, is in the center instead of the pride ring and is multiple colors). Hellhounds are legallypossessions though all higher hellborn on the chain consider those under them their 'possessions'; Most hellhounds walk on all fours w no clothes because they are considered familiars, not imps themselves, which marks Luna as different and is why she abuses Blitzo- she's essentially a slave no matter how nice her legal master is to her, and good on her (no references to real world slavery, obvious. But I mean, like, it's hell and it's a way to mark these characters as awful but endearing even when they're against one another, because it's fucking hell). Hellhounds also wear the marks of their owners, their sigil, as a tag. Though Imps are not allowed to leave hell ever and even sometimes forbidden to travel between other rings that aren't theirs. Imps still can not be harmed by fire or most mortal instruments-- however, hellborn are able to kill each other, with an immediate soulless death initiated through angel weaponry (the only thing that can actually eliminate sinners' souls). All demons can possess mortal things while on earth and can be driven out through 'exorcisms' = which is fanatical flailing that often kills the host. Because, again, this is hell and it's a show about demons so show me that possession comedy.

The biggest change with my redesigns of the HH/HB demons is giving the imps, succubi and hellhounds distinctively square pupils; cherubs have heart shaped pupils with gleamy over anime-eyes; goetia level demons and archangels can have completely pupilless eyes or whited out pupils; the seven sins and Charlies family have x-shaped pupils. Mortal humans have normal eyes. I think you can keep the deranged and over the top designing in tact w Vivziepop's work, it just needs come consistency.

[smokeybrandreviews]

Gum-Gum no Excellence

I finished Netflix's take on One Piece yesterday and, i must say, it was superb. I did not think they'd be able to actually capture that kinetic, endearing, emotional, slapstick energy that the Straw Hat's exude but, to my joyful surprise, they absolutely did. This version of One Piece is every bit as valid as the manga and anime versions. In some regards, I'd say it's even better. Certainly the pacing is far superior. I mean, we spent, like, two episodes in Syrup village which is all you need. I hated that arc because it was so goddamn meh. Not in this adaption. You get in there, you get what you need (Usopp and Going Merry) and you're out. It's actually kind of amazing how adept the writers on this show were able to distill forty-five half hour episodes, into eight hour long entries, without losing the plot is borderline miraculous. There were changes made due to budget concerns and the like but, overall, the alterations were more positive than negative, something that is quite rare in modern Hollywood. I have an issue with the fact that this thing cribs way too much from that Pirates of the Caribbean aesthetic (this show is nowhere near as colorful or explosive as the manga and anime) but that, i think, is just for normie yankee appeal. I doubt the masses would except the technicolor camp of the original vision but who am i to day? What i can say is that the cast is pitch-perfect.

Months ago, when the cast was first announced, i wrote an entire essay about how perfect it was. If you're curious, it's titled "Bon Voyage". Search that up and give it a read. In short, i thought the cast was perfect. There was a lot of frustration about "forced diversity" and perceived "wokeness" but that wasn't the case at all. The characters actually skewed to how Oda, himself, saw them. Luffy was Brazilian, Zorro was Japanese, Sanji as French, Nami was Swedish (i think), and Usopp was Black. That sh*t is chock full of proper diversity and, surprise-surprise, the cast reflected that. Hell, Oda even praised Inaki Godoy for his portrayal of Luffy, even though he's Mexican, not Brazilian. To be perfectly honest, i think that cast, the chemistry of the main characters, is the strength of this show. Godoy's Luffy is a standout, capturing that naive yet powerful energy Luffy exudes. Dude is the engine which makes this show go but his energetic presence doesn't overshadow the rest of his crew at all. Emily Rudd's Nami is every bit the sardonic straight man i expected her to be and Mackenyu's take on Zorro is every bit the bad ass i imagined the Pirate Hunter could be in live action. The lone weak link, i think, is Jacob Gibson's Usopp but that's mostly because Usopp is useless in these first few arcs. Kid gets much more bad ass as the narrative progresses. Hopefully, we'll get to see a bit of Sogeking before Netflix inevitably axes this show because, if we're being honest, that Alabasta arc is about to cost a ton of f*cking money, and Netflix is notorious about not cashing out. I'm curious if this thing makes it past the three season death date because, seriously, even the supporting cast kills. Morgan Davies' Koby, Aidan Scott's Helmeppo, and Vincent Regan's Garp are perfect contrasts as the stalwart Marine contingent in pursuit of the free-wheeling Straw Hat pirates.

The villains, too, were pretty solid. I thought Arlong was kind of rushed but both Buggy and Mihawk were perfect. Their portrayal gives me hope that cats like Crocodile and the CP9 can be executed in live action rather faithfully. I don't know what the future holds for this adaption but i adore what we've gotten so far. and so do general audiences. Outside of the weird slather of grime the US perspective pushed on this technicolor wonderland of camp, Netflix seems to have cracked how to adapt anime. Well, if I'm being honest, that was more James Cameron and Robert Rodriguez with Alita: Battle Angel but One Piece is the next step in that growth. In terms of Comic adaptions, I'd say Alita is akin to Blade and One Piece is this genres X-Men. Cats can look at this show and see the ground work laid. They can crib that formula, tweak it as necessary, and really understand how to translate the very Japanese feel of anime toward the more mundane and formulaic notions of the American palate. I love what I've seen in these first eight episode and look forward to what comes next. I want Skypiea. I want Lougetown and Dragon. More than anything, i want Alabasta because i NEED Nico Robin. She's my favorite character of the entire series and it would be an absolute shame if we didn't get such an integral part of the Straw Hats. Hell, even Tony Tony Chopper needs to at least make a cameo. Netflix's One Piece was excellent. On it's own, as a show, it was fun, whimsical, entertainment. As an anime adaption, it's one of the best I've ever seen, up there with Alita and Speed Racer. All eight episodes are out right now. Go binge them right now. Support this fantastic show because we need more of this and less of sh*t like Bebop and Death Note. Even though i kind of like Netflix's Death Note.

[smokeybrand]

Gum-Gum no Excellence

I finished Netflix's take on One Piece yesterday and, i must say, it was superb. I did not think they'd be able to actually capture that kinetic, endearing, emotional, slapstick energy that the Straw Hat's exude but, to my joyful surprise, they absolutely did. This version of One Piece is every bit as valid as the manga and anime versions. In some regards, I'd say it's even better. Certainly the pacing is far superior. I mean, we spent, like, two episodes in Syrup village which is all you need. I hated that arc because it was so goddamn meh. Not in this adaption. You get in there, you get what you need (Usopp and Going Merry) and you're out. It's actually kind of amazing how adept the writers on this show were able to distill forty-five half hour episodes, into eight hour long entries, without losing the plot is borderline miraculous. There were changes made due to budget concerns and the like but, overall, the alterations were more positive than negative, something that is quite rare in modern Hollywood. I have an issue with the fact that this thing cribs way too much from that Pirates of the Caribbean aesthetic (this show is nowhere near as colorful or explosive as the manga and anime) but that, i think, is just for normie yankee appeal. I doubt the masses would except the technicolor camp of the original vision but who am i to day? What i can say is that the cast is pitch-perfect.

Months ago, when the cast was first announced, i wrote an entire essay about how perfect it was. If you're curious, it's titled "Bon Voyage". Search that up and give it a read. In short, i thought the cast was perfect. There was a lot of frustration about "forced diversity" and perceived "wokeness" but that wasn't the case at all. The characters actually skewed to how Oda, himself, saw them. Luffy was Brazilian, Zorro was Japanese, Sanji as French, Nami was Swedish (i think), and Usopp was Black. That sh*t is chock full of proper diversity and, surprise-surprise, the cast reflected that. Hell, Oda even praised Inaki Godoy for his portrayal of Luffy, even though he's Mexican, not Brazilian. To be perfectly honest, i think that cast, the chemistry of the main characters, is the strength of this show. Godoy's Luffy is a standout, capturing that naive yet powerful energy Luffy exudes. Dude is the engine which makes this show go but his energetic presence doesn't overshadow the rest of his crew at all. Emily Rudd's Nami is every bit the sardonic straight man i expected her to be and Mackenyu's take on Zorro is every bit the bad ass i imagined the Pirate Hunter could be in live action. The lone weak link, i think, is Jacob Gibson's Usopp but that's mostly because Usopp is useless in these first few arcs. Kid gets much more bad ass as the narrative progresses. Hopefully, we'll get to see a bit of Sogeking before Netflix inevitably axes this show because, if we're being honest, that Alabasta arc is about to cost a ton of f*cking money, and Netflix is notorious about not cashing out. I'm curious if this thing makes it past the three season death date because, seriously, even the supporting cast kills. Morgan Davies' Koby, Aidan Scott's Helmeppo, and Vincent Regan's Garp are perfect contrasts as the stalwart Marine contingent in pursuit of the free-wheeling Straw Hat pirates.

The villains, too, were pretty solid. I thought Arlong was kind of rushed but both Buggy and Mihawk were perfect. Their portrayal gives me hope that cats like Crocodile and the CP9 can be executed in live action rather faithfully. I don't know what the future holds for this adaption but i adore what we've gotten so far. and so do general audiences. Outside of the weird slather of grime the US perspective pushed on this technicolor wonderland of camp, Netflix seems to have cracked how to adapt anime. Well, if I'm being honest, that was more James Cameron and Robert Rodriguez with Alita: Battle Angel but One Piece is the next step in that growth. In terms of Comic adaptions, I'd say Alita is akin to Blade and One Piece is this genres X-Men. Cats can look at this show and see the ground work laid. They can crib that formula, tweak it as necessary, and really understand how to translate the very Japanese feel of anime toward the more mundane and formulaic notions of the American palate. I love what I've seen in these first eight episode and look forward to what comes next. I want Skypiea. I want Lougetown and Dragon. More than anything, i want Alabasta because i NEED Nico Robin. She's my favorite character of the entire series and it would be an absolute shame if we didn't get such an integral part of the Straw Hats. Hell, even Tony Tony Chopper needs to at least make a cameo. Netflix's One Piece was excellent. On it's own, as a show, it was fun, whimsical, entertainment. As an anime adaption, it's one of the best I've ever seen, up there with Alita and Speed Racer. All eight episodes are out right now. Go binge them right now. Support this fantastic show because we need more of this and less of sh*t like Bebop and Death Note. Even though i kind of like Netflix's Death Note.

[athena-nation]

walk-through

Aziraphale slowly traces their finger along the ledge of the mantle. Photos of holidays past with what would be considered friends and family reach along, nearly teetering, its entire length. They come to a photo in particular and stop.

“I married.” Crowley points with his wine hand, “And that's our son.”.

Their shoulders slack a bit and Crowley, without fear of being too close now, reaches his right arm over Aziraphale’s shoulder, plucks up the photo, and brings it around so they can look at it together.

And they look at it together

Crowley points out “This is my wife, Sarah. This is my son, Eli. My father-in-law, my mother-in-law, and …” a few other people with hyphens and descriptors but the words trail off in Aziraphale’s ears, their interior self starting to take on blighted emotions.

Crowley walks a long look from the photo to his former love’s face.

“What was I going to do? I gave up everything.” He inhales, then elongates an exhale. “I love my kid. He, he's a fucken Giant! He's so gentle, though. I call him my we bull Ferdinand.” He places the photo back on the mantle.

“He's Nephilim?”

Crowley nods.

“Erm, is that why the flood was so hard?”

“Didn't understand why it hurt so much until I became” he pats his weathered human hand on his chest “this. Then, crews of memories came and I saw myself after that. Your kind were killing the children of angels who what? Married and loved humans.” He moves towards the couch. “I walked among them, you know. Wishing I could have the same thing. A partner, a lover, a family of Nephilim children and mixed villages and beliefs and homes? What a blessed funny thing, to love and create love? Angels, humans, Nephilim, Elioud.” 

He pauses to look at the mantle full of human relatives now.

“Then, they were found. They were a scourge to-”

“The Plan.” Aziraphale whispers.

“The great. fucking. ineffable plan.”

++++++++++++

They are now both sitting on the couch, Crowley to the right of the angel.

“I asked Hell to take everything including the throne that waited for me. Take my flight. Take my immortality. Don’t take my eyes, I loved them - so, of course, they did. But, I think they sort of felt bad because they gave me these eyes almost the same color. Which, which is yet another thing Eli did not inherit. He has no Angelic properties. Thank G-...."

He stops.

"I had to lose everything Angelic about me to get my memories back and now there are millions and millions of years of them that it hurts too much, my head is too small and the memories too big. Worst of the worst part? I didn’t realize there was a point that there was no more joy.”

“No more…joy? When?” Aziraphale quietly asked.

“I understand better now what happened.” Crowly skips over the too-hard-to-admit question. “Why they cast us out…”. His hurt makes a small place in his voice, “The audacity to think we could even share a little attention towards something so beautiful to us it outshone the sun? Brighter than God? How dare Her spotlight move an inch away from Her. A Seraphim who could fall In Love, no. That would not do. But, I couldn’t help it.

“I had already fallen in love with you.”

Aziraphale jolts, inhaling guilt hot and old. It awakens and spreads like a smoldering field under a forest fire floor. It was a new sensation. It was an unrealized shame.

“You fell. Because of me?” he asks.

Crowly nods. “And that, that is also why they bullied you. Why they called you soft, Azazel, scapegoat, weak.” In a teasing voice, he recollects, “Haha an angel fell for you and then he fell from heaven! Haha, you gonna start questioning the war against heaven. nyah nyah you’re crying because you’re becoming human.”

The replay of those schoolyard cruelties does bump up against a repression or ten.

++++++++++++

“I met Sarah 4 years after my wings were taken back. I was always sick after that happened and had these intense rolling fevers under my skin all the time. I didn’t know it was a human thing happening. So, I had to see a human doctor. After I came out of it, I…and she…” and trails off still feeling the burning in his arms. “...has a conference this week and will visit our boy at university.” He sounds lonely. “She’s back Sunday.” he sniffs, picks up his wine and finishes it.

“Eli is a good kid. BIG and yet quiet and beautiful and a painter and a footballer. Children are amazing things - he can be anything he wants. But best of all - he's not an angel. Not a single angelic power except when he looks at me. Oooch that crushes me.” Crowley says as he smiles thinking about that very feeling. I know he loves me and he tells me nearly every day. Twenty-four! And still tells his father he loves him. I think that's what I was looking for. All my heavenly creations and to never have any of them say that they loved me…”

ah. Hurt.

Crowly catches what he said, but is somewhere between apologizing for what was a fauxpax and letting the old love just feel it.

Aziraphale tries to equalize the conversation.

“I don't know if we had anything that would be considered ‘love’. A lot of it was fear and questioning and warm things and watching you and feeling you watching me, but…I had never fallen for anything before and definitely not the way…”

“But, I did. Because of you. Two times.”

“no no, nonononono…so this is MY fault? That’s not very fair. It's… a resentment now.” Aziraphale is growing hot underneath and the sadness becomes confusing.

Crowly moves his head almost serpent-like conveying what we would think is maybe, maybe not.

They are both staring at untouched drinks, Crowley’s wine, Aziraphale’s tea.

That. That is true hurt.

“They made you watch. Do you remember that?” Aziraphale wide and wet-eyed shook his head meekly. He did not. Not today. Crowley sucks in his lips, bites, and nods his head, “All 200 of us.” he snaps his fingers. “Just like that. No trial, just decided. Some all at once, some one by bloody one.” He quirks his mouth, “I was a ‘special case’. Because I had a head full of questions and a… a …a heart full of Love. Love that was not directed at God. So, I was the last one to go.”

Aziraphale looks away.

Crowley softens his speech.

“Maybe I should have said something sooner. Maybe, but I didn't and I would replay those days in the bookshop over and over in my head to try to get my mind around them and I couldn't and I know that I didn't want to know any of it anymore. One night I woke up soaked in tears - and all of a sudden I felt I was treading water and that THIS was the Karma of Eve. THIS is what I get for tempting her to bite the apple and now we alllll get to have Knowledge and that's pretty ba–. No, it isn’t bad. It’s a shame, really, cuz I thought,”

He puts his glass down and waits out the anger.

“I thought it was going to be a good thing, maybe even an ineffable thing of my own.”

+++++++++++

“Aziraphale, I broke."

It's cold. I wish I wore a thicker swear.

“It’s really hard to forgive you because you watched it happen and then didn't remember and then they punished you and punished you and punished you and you and we would have been a perfect foil to their hatred together, I guess. I don't know.

“You chose Heaven over us, for us.

“And I chose Earth over y-….” He pauses. “Let me correct that - I chose Earth, for me.

“Becoming mortal was not in anger towards you. It was time and I've never been consistently happier. I morbidly want to say thank you because I have this thing in my life now, but I'm not going to. I don't have a preternatural disposition for forgiveness. I can accept what happened and that’s it. And like every human should, I have a therapist and we just treat it all like a big traumatic brain injury. That seems to be the best way for me to get my head around what happened. Beginning of time to now. Like all of it was a dream. I was in a million-year coma. In a blackout.”

Blackout.

The visit has become humid. Aziraphale knows this has to happen.

+++++++++++

“Right,”

Crowley dusts off the top of his trousers, stands up, and puts his hand over to Aziraphale. They look up at him, put their hand in his, and get up from the couch. When standing, Crowley lets their hand go - it was merely to help. Aziraphale is numb.

“So, let me show you another thing…”

Crowley opens a set of French doors out into the garden. It’s dark out all around, but this is illuminated with tiny bulbs and solar lanterns in mason jars. They both nearly bump their heads on a few. “Wife.” Crowley smiles and hoists it up out of head-bumping reach.

It comes into view as they walk down a bit - a diminutive cottage Crowley steps over to, grabs the lock, and in two twists - opens it.

Aziraphale stifles weeping, slightly failing. Crowley had taken items from the bookshop and brought them here. The desk, the portfolios, notes, postcards, unread books and read ones.

It was a mini bookshop.

With only one chair.

Silence

“I…” Suddenly self-conscious, he tries again. “I weep myself to sleep, every night, right there.” He points to the chair, which bears evidence of a man whose face has folded many times into those arms and wept and slept and drank a little and wept and slept some more.

“Sarah knows she’ll never understand what happened. She’s never pried nor has tried to change my mind about keeping this” he moves his arm to wave it along the eyeline of the room, but drops it. He turns to Aziraphale. “She sees so many people at the hospital from veritable wars that she just accepted this habit of mine as…as a erm…traumatic brain injury. PTSD. An old coma’s ghosts.”

dead silence

“I've only recently begun to stop crying,” Crowley says, nodding, as he starts to. “and now you're fucking here, and for the first time in all our millennia together, seeing you here -

"I'm so fucking unhappy.”

Time stops, but in the human way.

“I can't bear to be near you. You're everything I ever needed and wanted and I couldn’t compete with God or the Second Coming that apparently NEVER happened.” He now gestures wide with his arms outstretched, one long fluid movement so intense and passionate it looks as if he never lost his wings.

“We….“ he bangs his chest, “weeeeeee all lived down here through whatever stupid thing you were all fighting over up there and maybe you fixed it and maybe nothing happened -

“but you didn't even throw a feather from the sky to let me know that there was some fucking kind of Peace going on.

”That you missed me.

“or you were just a little sorry.”

He is heaving and trying to hold onto any words without screaming. “Sure, it still rains fish in Texas and frogs in Croydon sometimes, there’s still some old mischievous magic from past events between us. but it does make me so so so fucking…….sad you. said. Nothing.”

silence is now an abyss

“You, too, then? Just like her? Not even one. fucking. Sign.”

Crowley drops his arms and all the energy he had brewing all evening, if not all the last 28 years, sinks out from him and into the ground cover.

“Aziraphale?”

so, … this is death

“Yes, Crowley.”

“Please leave.”

+++++++++++

The Angel is standing outside of the house, their back to the door, waiting to hear the click of a lock before walking away. It doesn't rain in this section of England very much which is very strange. It's almost like one last small miracle is left to protect the home, his wife, his son.

His humanity.

Aziraphael walks back to the car. No shade of yellow, just plain grey. A rental he doesn't drive through Soho on his way home to the end of the world.

[henriiiii-1001old]

time to do a silly over here hey is it okay to ask u to pick one au u have, how would the aus cast do in among us. like who the fuck rages. i shit you not someone ran to the emergency button in a game i was in instead of reporting a body, i was very mad. werent even the imposter either. also hi other person who knows who i am. -silly

anyways i have the PERFECT THING to explain how theyd play among us :33333

introducing: tmc as the morning lobby/hafu lobby!!!!!

you dont need to know who they are to understand, just know that i am insane over them and i love among us videos sm still <333333

SO FIRST!!!! we have mark and sarah as 5up and hafu. 5up and hafu are noted as an iconic sibling duo, very much like the heathcliff siblings. they are also MASTER among us players, most notable for their incredible impostor plays (esp when together as an impostor duo). but besides that, mark and sarah play EXTREMELY well and like order to balance out the chaps of the lobbies.

next up we have jonah and adam the iconic dumb and dumber duo, dk and steve, respectively. they mostly do a lot of trolling. dk is mostly known in his older days for “throwing” a lot of the games, which i just have a feeling jonah would do a LOT. he does get a lot better overtime though!!! as for adam, he gets steve bc steve’s demeanor just 100% matches w adam man. and the lobby has claimed that steve can “roleplay as himself”, which is kind of what adam has been doing his entire life. dumb and dumber can be a powerful duo if they dont throw each other under the bus in the first round and have had some killer games!!!

next up i have thatcher as dumbdog. dumbdog is usually seen in a dark green color, which my brain just went “oh yeah thatcher lol.” however, dumbdog is a mix of a serious and silly player, going along with bits that he thinks are funny but also still being serious when he needs to be. i just think that captures thatcher SO WELL. also dumbdog’s laugh is just so good i might just make it thatcher’s laugh i love it sm.

next we have dave as junkyard. the entire thing with junk is that he’s the oldest in the group, and i think dave would play that role very well even if he’s not necessarily the oldest.

and this is where things get blurry. im not sure who would be who at this point, so i’ll just give a lil rundown of everyone else’s playstyles.

ruth is also a serious and silly player but leans more towards silly. maybe she’d be a good kara? idk

WAIT EVELIN IS MAYBE JANET. i mostly know janet for being so focused on being her role, especially snitch, and its just really entertaining imo. i just feel like evelin would be the same way, hyperfocusing on playing her role and such.

the alts are. okay at the game ig. gabe’s mostly alright but when he’s crew he’ll just get sussed for no reason and it pisses him off to hell and back. six is a VERY silly player. he’s probably a really good jester ngl. stanley i’d say is the best one! very tactical and plans out a lot of their actions. plays really good as both crew and impostor. puppet can be a REALLY good impostor if he knows how the specific role works. he does like to do a bit of fuckery here and there though bc he just likes being so silly goofy.

i didnt almost forget eden (lying) and soeaking of i feel like he’s still getting hsed to the game, likes to call too many buttons, gets caught too often, and misreads a lot of situations. but hymn’s still learning!!! he’s got a long way to go!!!!

uuhhh thats kinda all i have for now ig! also i probably should have clarified this is mostly for unholy gift.

[manuchyy]

a ZOEY X MALE READER fanfiction.

Genre: soft romance, fluff, comfort.

Warnings: mentions of death, cursing, dark themes.

Synopsis: After a failed search rescue, you and your team make your back to camp to relax. You, however, are stopped by a certain lover girl and things go upside down from there.

Author's Note: I'm so sorry this took so long my love :( You know how things have been going but I tried my best with what I could have at my disposal. I'm not entirely happy with how this turned out but If I get the chance, I will remake or edit it to a better version! I hope this is of your liking, however. I promise to make you a better one in the future! Love youuu! Hope you are doing okay! Much love &lt;3

“As a matter of fact, I do not, Francis. You’re just stupid.” Zoey sighed.

“What? It was a good assumption!” Francis beamed, his arms going up in the air,

“Can you just shush Francis?” You asked, hope lingering in your voice.

Francis almost gasped in horror at your request, his arms, once in the air, now going back to his sides as his posture straightened. “Sure thing, Boss.But we will continue this debate!”

You sometimes wondered how you got into the current predicament. Well, easy answer to that, you thought. If only the virus hadn’t hit Philadelphia right as you were leaving for a vacation, you wouldn’t be walking through a forest, hungry, dirty and looking for a supposed survivor that might no longer be alive. You kept reminding yourself, the uniform you currently wore, didn’t matter anymore. It had once been a sign of honor and hope, and now, nothing past a bloody mess of green shades and rotten red.

The smell of death on your body made you gag, It had been days without a proper shower and river water won’t do the job as good, you thought. Although you had spent all these days dirty and bloody on remains of what were once breathing, living people like you, any type of cleaning for yourself was going to have to be done. Even with river water. 

You and your group of 4 had been walking through a forest as the result of an order from your camp. It was titled a safe haven for any survivors, mostly carriers, though. Carriers made part of the bigger percentage of survivors in the East Coast, while other people were taken out by other…bigger factors. CEDA lost control of the carriers, as did the military soon after and New Orleans only proved the facts right. The remaining survivors hid deep into the forests until communities and camps started to rise. Or fall.

The walk through the dense forest had been long, the sun almost hiding behind the tall oak trees, as its colors danced through the branches casting a beautiful yellow glow. 

“Hey uhm, (Y/N)? Should we head back?” Louis questioned, his eyes darting everywhere but on you.

You hummed in response. “Suppose we should, they are probably dead by now, ‘else we would’ve found them”

The group makes no objections, and you took that as the green flag to go back to the camp.Mission failed, we’ll get ‘em next time.

By the time you all reach the camp, the sun has set long and the moon has taken over, the dark sky as a makeshift blanket in the sky full of white sparkling stars shining up above. It wasn’t ideal, you personally didn’t mind but now, every little thing mattered. As quickly as when the order was given, the leader appears from one of the houses, his office, you remember, to welcome you all back in. His stature going over yours by an inch.

“Found ‘em?” He hoped, eyebrows frowned in anxiety.

You simply shook your head, the disappointment finally kicking in. You were tired, exhausted even, and it wouldn’t take long before you snapped into insanity from the lack of rest. It hurt your eyes as if a thousand nails dug into them, 

“I’m sorry” You apologized, head lowering slightly.

The leader, Samuel, sighed in defeat. “It’s alright son, you and your crew should go get some sleep, eat somethin’. I’ll take care of it.”

With a pat to your back, Samuel retreats to his office without another word. You could tell the leader was grateful for your hard work, but he had also been disappointed. You rubbed your eyes, dirt and blood mixing with its parts already on your face from earlier in the day, the smell at this point went past your brain as it likely didn’t function properly at this point due to lack of sleep.

You started to make your way back to your assigned house until you were stopped by a smaller hand on your arm, the grip significantly strong.

“Hey, wait. Can we talk?” Zoey asked, her brows frowned upwards as she muttered her sentence.

You contemplated on the idea, sure you were tired but Zoey was your girlfriend. She had seen you in your worst days since the two of you met,and you had seen hers. Especially after Bill’s passing. 

“Sure.” You agreed, swiftly taking her hand in yours as you two head to your house.

You two made small talk, got a few giggles and laughed out of one another before you two were forced to abruptly stop as another person made themselves present. The man had mischievous eyes, ones that immediately told you he was going to try something and that something was going to piss you off. Just what you needed, you thought.

Relationships were still quite new to you, it wasn’t entirely unknown, but you had your knowledge about the goods and bads when it came to one. One of which, being jerks who tried to flirt with your girl. 

“Hey beautiful, how’s your night?” The boy asked, his teeth making swift contact with his lip.

He made no effort to acknowledge you in the slightest, he simply acted as if you were never there. His hands on his jean pockets and that cool pose to appear bigger in authority. Typical.

“Uhm- I’m fine thanks?” Zoey muttered, quickly shooting you a desperate glance.

“You sure? You don’t sound fine. C’mon pretty girl, I can make your night better.” He smiled, hands going up to comb his hair back with his fingers.

You let it go too far. “Nah, you won’t do shit.” You were fuming. 

“Babe-” 

“Get the hell out of my way, dumbass. You never, ever dare talk like that to her again, you hear me?” You yelled at his face, accidentally spitting in the process. 

“And who are you man?!” 

“I’m her goddamn boyfriend!” You pushed him, making him fall to the ground. At this point you were pulled away by Zoey towards the house. She closed the door once the two of you were inside and kissed you, placing her hands on both sides of your head, caressing it. The kiss was deep and  passionate, the two of you moaned into it, pulling each other closer to one another.

Zoey pulls away, a string of saliva breaking between the two of you. “That was hot.”

You laugh with her, once again, just the two of you in peace. “I’m sorry- I kinda lost control, I just wanted to scare him.”

“And I’m sure you accomplished that.”

“Hope so.” You snorted.

Zoey smiled, quickly pulling you into an embrace. She squeezed you as if one of you let go, everything would disappear. She pulled you to the sofa and you two got into a comfortable position, the moment was nice, as nice as it could get in a virus outbreak.

You and Zoey had great chemistry, the two of you worked like a professional duo of criminals when fighting and everything was in proper order. Zoey always did her best to please you and you to please her, it just worked like that.

In the sofa, you caressed Zoey's cheek as she laid in your chest, your breathing making quick work to put the tired woman to sleep. You two stayed like that for a while, eventually falling asleep in each other's arms.

[stewblog]

The Super Mario Bros. Movie (2023)

If you’re not a little kid, how much you enjoy The Super Mario Bros. Movie will likely be in direct proportion to how much you love Nintendo’s marquee characters. 

I’ve been a fan of Mario, Luigi and crew since I first laid eyes on a Nintendo Entertainment System back in 1987. As I grew up, Shigeru Miyamoto was my Walt Disney: A creative visionary capable of conjuring delightful characters and worlds that sparked my own imagination. That love has never faded. 

There have been other attempts to translate Super Mario Bros. into forms beyond its 8-bit origin, but those efforts were either half-baked (The Super Mario Bros. Super Show) or too bizarre for their own good (the 1993 live-action movie.) This is the first time that Mario has made the leap beyond a video game into something that could unequivocally be described as “good.” No small feat, given that at its core Super Mario Bros. as a game concept is little more than “man jumps over/onto things.” 

So how do you spin “man jumps, saves princess” into a tale worth 90 minutes of an audience’s time? You lean heavily into the iconic imagery of the source material and emphasize the familial nature of the title characters. 

Mario (Chris Pratt) and Luigi (Charlie Day) are the eponymous Super Mario Bros. (though it never specifies if their last name is also Mario), a Brooklyn-based duo desperate to make their mark as newly minted self-employed plumbers. When their first paid gig is a disaster-and-a-half, the brothers attempt to save face by helping solve a plumbing crisis that erupts from below their NYC burrough. But before they can wrench victory from the jaws of defeat, they find themselves sucked into a pipe transporting them to a magical land. With Luigi now captured and the fiendish Bowser (Jack Black) intent on laying waste to the rest of the Mushroom Kingdom, Mario teams up with the headstrong Princess Peach (Anya Taylor-Joy) to find a way to rescue his brother and help save the day. 

The movie wastes no time in setting things into motion. Directors Michael Horvath, Aaron Jelenic and Pierre Leduc fully grasp that you’re at a Mario movie to see Mario do and be surrounded by the things gamers have spent decades seeing in the games, and they cut right to the chase. And if there’s a lingering, substantive complaint I have with the Super Mario Bros. Movie, it’s that never stops moving at a breakneck pace. With the world and characters such direct translation of their game counterparts, it can be more than a bit overwhelming seeing this whirlwind of colorful chaos whiz by you with nary a spare moment to truly soak it all in, much less spend time truly getting to know any of the characters. Though that’s also a testament to the chemistry that Pratt and Day share and how relatively well the movie immediately establishes the relationship between Mario and Luigi that it really feels like a bummer that they don’t share more time together until the big finale. 

Speaking of Pratt and Day, the entire voice cast has to be commended for their work here. The Internet has been awash with cringing and complaints about Pratt’s vocal work since even before we heard a peep from him in a trailer, but he ends up fitting quite nicely with how the character is written in the movie. He’s doing a slight approximation of a Brooklyn accent, but it works. We’ve typically only heard Mario’s video game avatar shout and whoop or otherwise speak in cartoonishly over-the-top catchphrases, a style that would in no way serve a 90 minute movie with conversations and expositions and Pratt makes it work. 

The real stars, though, are Black and Taylor-Joy as Bowser and Peach. Jack Black is perhaps the most “no brainer” casting bit of the whole lot, and he delivers exactly the sort of performance you’d want and expect. Taylor-Joy, however, is the movie’s anchor. No longer relegated to merely being a damsel in distress, Peach is more than capable of taking care of herself (she mostly lets Mario come along to try and rescue Luigi) and Anya Taylor-Joy finds the perfect balance of “girlboss” energy and sunny disposition to present what will likely be to a new generation of kids what Carrie Fisher’s Princess Leia was to me growing up. 

The result is a movie that sounds great (composer Brian Tyler’s renditions of classic tunes from across the game series are superb), looks great and moves like a rocket. It’s unquestionably the best movie that Illumination has ever made. But it’s a cotton candy movie, as colorful and sweet as it is thin. And that’s fine. It’s a kids movie and a better one at that than almost anything not made by Pixar these days. 

But for a longtime fan such as myself? As someone who learned to draw because he loved Mario and spent countless hours in the backyard and on the playground pretending to be Mario, seeing Miyamoto’s creations brought to such vibrant, lovingly rendered life was a joy enough in and of itself to be satisfied. 

[constable]

Armus

They had begun years ago. Odo, his old life entirely cast away with the end of the war. Returning to the Great Link had been healing, in some ways. Perhaps he'd even had an impact on them—he liked to think he had. But when he had left, Weyoun 6 his only companion, he had known, for the first time in his existence, with utter certainty, exactly what he needed to do.

That, of course, did not make it fast work.

They had travelled almost randomly, first, searching out tales and legends and history from everyone they encountered, but Odo had quickly fallen into the habit of scouring old records of exploratory vessels for signs of his lost people. That was what had led them here, to the forbidden planet Vagra II.

Nearly two decades previous, the Enterprise and her crew had encountered a hostile entity without clear form and rather than negotiate, they had tricked it, then marked the planet off limits, stranding it there alone once more.

Odo had never hated Star Fleet so much as when he'd seen the conclusion of the report. Not only had this creature, changeling or not, been left utterly alone, but it had been denied, by Federation law, any rescue by others.

If he was asked to pay for this crime of compassion, he would do so, but he could not leave Armus alone any longer.

-

The pair of them beamed down to the surface of the planet with some apprehension, but that didn't stop Odo from immediately approaching the dark puddle. "I'm so sorry," he whispered immediately. "I'm sorry that this was done to you. I'm sorry for what the Federation damned you to, with so little evidence. To arbitrarily decide-"

Odo cut himself off, then recentered. "We've come to help you. I believe- I believe you and I may be members of the same species."

"I am not," Armus' replied, speaking for the first time. "I do not require your pity. But I am a member of no species. I no longer exist as anything but evil. Who are you?"

Odo's distress was clear in the way his form's edges softened. But all he did was hold out a hand.

"My name is Odo. Our people did us both a great disservice–you more than me. They abandoned us before we were old enough to know what it meant to be alive, as a way of seeing how solids would respond to changelings among them. But I'm here to correct that mistake. You don't need to be alone anymore." He took a step forward. When Weyoun reached out as though to stop him, concerned for his safety, Odo reached back with his other hand to tangle their fingers, just for a moment, offering reassurance. He may not have irrefutable evidence, but he was certain nonetheless. Armus was one of the hundred. He could feel it, and Odo would not contribute to their pain by avoiding them out of fear. "You never should have been alone. None of our people were ever meant to be."

Armus lashed out, swatting at Odo as if to throw him back and away, but Odo's form shifted just as quickly, fearlessly entwining with Armus'. In a matter of moments, all struggle had ceased and the differences between the two were fading. Colors merged, textures smoothed. The two of them settled into the puddle.

Within the Link created by the two of them, Odo experienced such sorrow that he thought it might be unmaking him. Never before had Armus experienced a kind or gentle touch. Never before had they experienced the peace or completion of this most natural connection.

Odo had always hated what had been done to him in his childhood, but it could not compare to the horrors of an entire race projecting their superstitious hope for separation from evil onto Armus. They made them their receptacle for every negative thought, emotion, and impulse. They made them a symbol of their separation from negativity. They made them worse than a demon. And then they'd left him alone.

Odo's form, combined as it was with Armus', shuddered. But he remained.

For hours, he pushed away Armus' attacks against him. He softened anger, blunted fear. He soothed the loneliness. For days, he shared the pain. Then he shared the joys he understood, offering to Armus the light and good that existed in the universe and could be a part of their existence as well. For weeks, Odo remained in the Link, doing all that was in his power to heal his sibling. And then, gently, with so many reassurances that he thought it might take as long to be himself again as it had taken to get to this point, he pulled away. And after only the briefest of communications with Weyoun, he returned, fulfilling his promise, building trust.

More and more, Odo was able to separate. First for seconds, then for hours. Armus lashed out less and less. Only twice, they directed their anger at Weyoun and were firmly rebuked. Odo refused to see or Link with them for days, after the second time, and he spent that time fussing over Weyoun instead, making his pride and gratitude clear in every way he knew how, even as Weyoun offered him a place to share his pain and fear.

Finally, Armus was well enough, separated from the physical toxins they had absorbed and capable now of some degree of trust. Odo suggested, "It's time to take you home."

"Home?"

"To the Great Link. They need to see what they've done to you. And they need to teach you." He hadn't even begun to teach Armus how to shift correctly. "You needn't forgive them immediately, or at all. But I want you to experience the full Link. At least once. And Armus, I cannot remain here with you. Not forever."

They hesitated, dark golden form moving over soft sand almost anxiously. Then, they agreed.

"...Home."