#Window Shade Variant

[browsethestacks]

Comic - Daredevil #01 (2022) Cover

Art by Jorge Fornés

[wordsofwhimsy]

𝙀𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙚𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙔𝙤𝙪 - Pt. 1

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

[​🇦​/​🇳​]⦂ I'm not specific with his looks or costume so this can be any variant that tickles your fancy! Just know tho that for me, that's Mohawk Mark 👀

【ＰＡＩＲＩＮＧ】 ⦂ Variant!Mark Grayson x Reader

【ＷＡＲＮＩＮＧＳ】 ⦂ Violence, possession

【ＩＮＳＰＩＲＡＴＩＯＮ】 ⦂ 100% inspired by reading tokoyamisstuff‘s Variant!Mark fic called “Second Chance At Love” (it’s a 2 parter and SO GOOD – you MUST check it out)

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

You were fucked. 

There was no sugarcoating the situation – things were looking grim.  Your breathing was labored as you laid face down on the pavement beneath a car.  There was a constant rumble in the ground as buildings collapsed all around the city, the sound of desperate screams overlapping one another and turning into a stomach-churning cacophony of horror.  The day had switched so abruptly from calm and peaceful to utter chaos that your brain didn’t have time to fully comprehend what was happening.  One minute you were enjoying a light lunch at an outdoor café, and the next you were cowering for your life under some random vehicle. 

From what you could gather from your small window of sight, someone who resembled the hero named Invincible was making short work of the city – why?  You couldn’t even begin to guess.  You were never overly interested in the life and goings on of supers, and made no effort to keep up with the latest happenings in their world.  As far as you were concerned that was all way above your paygrade.

But even with your bare minimum knowledge, you knew that Invincible was one of the good guys.  And from the few glimpses you saw, this super had a slightly different costume.  Whatever the situation, you couldn’t help but kick yourself for choosing to stay in the city.  Your mother had been nagging you for ages to move back to your rural hometown, claiming that it was safer and better for your health.  You’d hate to hear what she was saying about the current events unfolding…

The cramped and shaded spot you were hiding in abruptly became open and sunny, the sound of creaking metal almost deafening overhead. “There you are!” a voice rang out.  Turning slightly to look up towards the sky you’re greeted by the darkened silhouette of a super, the small shine of his teeth illuminated in the shadow.  With one arm he held the car you were hiding beneath casually over his head. “I knew I’d find you somewhere around here.”  He tossed the sedan into the café a few yards away with as much ease as you would have tossed a crumpled sheet of paper into a trashcan.

You curled into yourself, arms attempting to cover your head in response to the car crashing into your favorite lunch spot. In the midst of the mayhem you didn’t even notice you were off the ground until you realized all of the ear-splitting clamor seemed quieter and farther away.  Cautiously lowering your arms, you opened your eyes to the view of Invincible’s face as he smirked down at you.  Had you been saved?  That is what heroes do of course, but to save just you in such a widespread catastrophe seemed… well, really fucking weird.  “W-What’s happening?” you manage to choke out.

“A lot of fucked up shit,” he responded starkly, his stare raking across the destroyed landscape below.  You kept your eyes fixed on him, refusing to see how far up you really were.  After a second he returned his gaze to you, the almost wicked smirk still pulling at the corner of his lips. “Aren’t you so glad I got to you first?”

“F-First?”  As if on cue, another voice identical to Invincible’s boldly stated,

“Find yourself a toy?”  Spinning midair to face the voice, you were beyond confused to find another Invincible, this one different enough to clearly tell they were indeed not the same person yet somehow they were still identical. 

“Fuck off and mind your own business,” the one holding you spat back.

“Didn’t mom teach you not to play with your food?” Alarm bells were blaring in your mind, and any thought of this being a rescue mission quickly melted into an abduction story.

“Didn’t she teach you how to shut the hell up?”  The other Invincible choked down a bitter laugh before turning away from you and saying,

“Whatever.  More universes for me to conquer then.”  With a sonic boom he was gone, barreling through buildings on the streets below and leaving nothing but rubble and fire in his wake.

“What a prick…” The Invincible holding your mumbled. “Let’s get the hell out of here.” Before you could think to ask who the hell was that, who the hell was he, what the hell was happening, or anything at all, you were moving through the sky at a speed that left you hanging on just to breathe.  You were cradled in his arms like a child, still curled into a tight ball with your fingers locked desperately into his suit. 

After some time that felt like an eternity, Invincible made contact with solid ground.  Feeling safe to lift your face up and away from his chest, you immediately recognized where you were.  “Why are we in Fernville?”  Setting you down on your feet, you felt your knees shake as if about to give way beneath you.  You gripped onto his arm to steady yourself.

“I figured you’d want to see this place one last time.”�� Looking at him with wide eyes, you’d finally had enough of the confusion.

“For the love of god can you please tell me what the hell is going on?!”  For the first time you saw an expression on his face that seemed almost out of place – heartache.

“Wait – you don’t remember me?”

“I mean, sure, I know of you.  I think everyone knows who Invincible is.”  Now his face turned to a look of mild relief.

“Ohh, I get it now.  You and this Mark never got close.”

“Who the hell is Mark!” Your words came out more as an exclamation than a question, your feelings really running your actions at this point.

“You used to make drinks for me at Coffee & Capes.”  You studied his face closely, and after several moments in dawned on you who he was.  The tension in your eyebrows lessened.

“Oh wow, Mark...  I remember you now.  I-I can’t believe you’re Invincible!”  And just like that his smirk was back.

“That’s what they tell me.” You shook your head in disbelief, your mind reeling to try and make sense of what was happening.

“But hold on, you said “this Mark”.  What does that even mean?”  He rolled his neck, eyes glancing wearily in the direction of town.

“It’s complicated.  And honestly a lot to explain…”

“I mean,” you scoffed, throwing your hands up. “I guess I’ve got time.”  He looked back to you again, this time showing a softness and almost adoration.  You quirked an eyebrow, and then suddenly you were being gripped tightly by your upper arms and pulled into him. Without any further warning, he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss. It’s not gentle or tender. It’s forceful, full of a twisted need that leaves no room for you to breathe or think. His kiss felt like a claim, a possession rather than a moment of affection.

After a moment of being frozen in shock, you tried uselessly to pull away.  Noticing, Mark pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his expression dark but oddly satisfied. "It’s been so long since I’ve had you…” His voice dropped, a sickly sweetness to it. "I’m not going anywhere.  And neither are you."

【Ｐａｒｔ　Ｔｗｏ】

[hmsmondschein-sonata]

Pigeon

AUGHHH how do I keep a consistent shading style anyways uhh have Robespierre with his beloved pigeon

And Saint-Just just at the back looking disappointed (he thought they were about to get freaky)

Yeah I'm uncreative cry about it

@lucidreamer404 pigeon

Alternative variants (w/o hue and window shadow)

[synthetickitsune]

Seungkwan (SVT) | Golden hour fluff | 0.8k | gn!reader

”You look like the sun,” you chuckle when you see your boyfriend kneeling on the sofa. He’s taking pictures of the sunset through the open window, but the golden rays make it seem like his hair is glowing. Like he is glowing. A star fallen into your living room. He turns towards you with a playful pout but soon returns to his task, set on taking the perfect picture.

You cross the room, a little quicker now. The perspiration on the cool glass is starting to slide down the glasses of lemonade and you make it a game for yourself of not getting the floors wet. You make it. Taking out the lemon-themed coasters, you think it’d be nice to have more variants of different fruits to match your drinks. 

You voice the thought aloud to Seungkwan, making him smile and turn towards you.

“We can find some. There will be plenty online,” he says while he sits down next to you. He shows you the picture he took. It’s perfect and you tell him so, earning a grateful kiss to your cheek.

The room is bathed in a warm glow. The walls look like they’re dripping gold, oozing honey. You lean back into the pillows and take it all in. The breeze blows in gently and carries the voices of people on the street and the rustling of leaves in the wind. Seungkwan, having already diligently documented the scene outside, watches you instead. Then he pulls up his phone again to take a picture of you too.

“That’s not gonna be much of a masterpiece,” you hum, turning your face towards him.

“Wrong,” he smirks and proudly turns his phone towards you. He already changed his lockscreen to the picture he just took. You laugh. It could be worse. “See?”

“All I see is that my boyfriend has a talent for photography,” you lean closer to him and kiss him. 

“You’re my muse,” he whispers against your lips before pulling away and taking his glass of the cool drink. He praises the taste like it’s not the easiest drink to make. 

“Oranges would be better. They’d match the color more,” he ruins it right after and points to deeper shade on the walls.

“Sure, maybe tomorrow. If the nice weather lasts, we can have a whole photoshoot here,” you tease only a little, you really mean it for the most part.

Seungkwan’s eyes twinkle either way as he immediately leans against you and starts motioning around the room, telling you all about his vision. Somehow you think it’s been on his mind for a while. You wonder if he’d ever suggest it himself.

You listen to him, and you must admit his ideas sound wonderful. At some point, however, all you register is his voice and the light. Sunlight paints him to be a statue with golden cracks where the rays filter into the room. He really might as well be a fallen star that found its home in your apartment. It could be him that illuminates the entire room. His voice only helps the daydream develop. No mere human could sound so nice. 

You barely, no - you simply don’t realize that your body starts slumping against your boyfriend's. He's quite comfortable, and comforting even more so. Your body fits so nice against his, so naturally like it’s meant to be. You bask in his glow. He must be a guardian angel sent to you.

But while you don't realize, Seungkwan has noticed your absent-minded gaze quite some time ago. He knows you tend to get lost in your own head sometimes and doesn't get concerned anymore. Although he is curious what you're thinking about when you lean against him. Slowly he stretches his arm and lets it rest around your shoulders. You don't startle, you don't even notice. He continues speaking without giving into the temptation to call you cute and squish your cheeks. He gets the same reaction - or lack of - when he begins playing with your hair.

Eventually though, you come to. With a cute confused hum and loving smile.

“Where did you go?” Seungkwan coos at you.

“I just thought about how happy you make me,” you snuggle closer to him, hugging his waist. Your head fits perfectly into the crook of his neck. He stutters a little.

“Bet you weren’t even listening to me,” he mumbles under his breath and you know he’s just trying to hide that even after all this time you still make him shy. So you repeat his words to him, at least what you did catch, and it’s enough to drive him into a corner. “Not fair.”

You laugh, pecking his neck and rubbing your nose on the skin of his throat. He wonders aloud why you are so affectionate suddenly, but you stay quiet - you already told him anyway.

“I’m really happy with you too,” he whispers after a beat of silence, hugging you closer, “Very happy.”

And so you sip your lemonades and watch the sunset together. It might not seem like much, but you like this little life.

[cornsmash]

Home? Pt. 2

Mohawk Mark x Male!reader

Word Count: 1,001

Author’s Note: You are essentially a male!eve variant or got her powers whatever is your vice. Also I am making up where this story is going on the spot so if other parts take awhile that’s why and trying to add some world building into it.

You woke up with a gasp, sweat dripping from your body, you sat up trying to control your breathing. The back of your head hit the headboard, leaning it to look out the window. Very few clusters of lights shone through the night, cities whose purpose required them to work after day. Anywhere else was complete darkness, if any lights were on none were powerful enough to be seen from above. You looked to your other side and saw the wrinkle pillow and blanket.

‘So he was here’ you thought, removing the blanket from your legs and pushing them over the bed. You took a deep breath, hands on the edge. With much force you pushed yourself off the bed, stumbling before using your flight to ‘stand’. Walking a couple of steps was pretty harmless on good days, coming with only a slight ache. On most days however it felt like glass was being pushed into them with every step. Your feet would burn for hours after, so you had stopped trying to walk on them. Technically you could’ve walked to the bathroom, but stabilizing yourself enough to walk took too long. And the ache that would come would keep you from sleeping.

And you couldn’t use your wheelchair because Mark would take it when night came, ‘Don’t want you wheeling off’ he sneered as you had tried to leave once. Flight allowed you to essentially be almost completely mobile, but it felt wrong to fly 24/7. It makes you feel less human, you’d always be above everyone else. You missed being able to step on the ground and being able to connect to it and feel what was underneath. Now all that could be felt was pain.

You floated to the bathroom and entered, after you had finished you sat on the toilet for a moment. Your washed hands, still wet as the sterile lighting filled the room. Water dripped from the faucet as you stared at the shower wall. You were lucky that this building had warm water, but of course it did. It's where the “emperor” Iived.

Your eyes cracked open, the bright hospital lights stabbed your eyes, you groaned as the ache filled your eyes. Your body felt much less heavy since the last time you woke up, notably the pain was almost gone, more subdued in other places however. Soreness is what truly took over your body, your eyes looked up; you saw the leg you lifted up in a sling. The entire leg was in a cast, bandages were wrapped all over you; one wrist was also in a cast. You turned your head to the side confused, you tried to figure out if the events that had happened were real. Your head swung side to side as you tried to gain insight of where you were. All you could tell is that you were in a hospital, one that somehow survived.

“Fuck…what the hell is going on…” You thought. You turned your head and saw there was a mirror on the bedside table. You stretched your arm out to reach it but felt bandages around your abdomen pinch your skin. You grimaced but slightly pushed yourself to grab the mirror and fell back onto the hospital bed. The bandages no longer pinched but still left your skin itchy. You positioned the mirror to your face and felt shock. Your face was covered in bandages, you gasped for a few seconds before reaching to take the bandages off. The wrapping was tight and you configured a small knife to cut the bandages off your face.

Your face…was fine technically but there were patches of skin that were different colors, shades. As if they were all in different stages of healing, shaky breathes escaped your mouth as you tried to contemplate what the fuck happened to you. Clearly you were plumulled to near death, but here you were alive, and in one piece… ? You dropped the mirror as you felt yourself hyperventilate, tears pricking your eyes, the sterile lighting still as blinding as when you first woke up.

You were snapped out as Mark opened the door quickly, he seemed tense. “What the fuck are you doing?” He questioned hints of anger sprinkled in.

You didn’t respond, just stared at him blankly, he stared back waiting for a response. After a minute he groaned, letting go of the door handle, but keeping it wide open

“Babe come on, I’ll take you to bed, you need to stop staying up so damn late. I don’t wanna wake up to a face that looks like it’s been rotting”

You stared at him puzzled ‘I get my eye bags are dark but damn’. Still you made no attempt to move, not even because you didn’t want to but your knees decided to lock. He stared annoyed, making a gesture with his hand to get up, his eyes widening dramatically for emphasis.

“Knees” you yawned.

“Oh” he muttered, walking up to you and grabbing your back and under your knees before lifting you up. “Ya know you could take better care of your face, won’t be long before I’ll find something new to look at” ranting as he walked you both to the bed. Comments like that used to give you dread but Mark was never serious about anything.

“Your never getting rid of me”

“Ahhh you know me so well babe” He boasted giving you a quick peck of the cheek before lightly throwing you on the bed. You settled into the side closest to the window as Mark got comfy and brought the blanket on the both of you.

“You know you're the only one for me” He whispered, kissing your neck. You didn’t respond, just turned so your back faced towards him. No sound came from him, just ones from the blanket as he laid to rest. Your eyes focused on the window, those scattered clusters of light being your only solace in your current predicament.

[honey-minded-hivemind]

A Drop In The Universe, A Platonic Yandere X-Men Reader Post:

You wake up, but where you wake up is not where you usually are. It is cold, dark, and it shifts and coils and pulses around you, like enchanted ink or like the night planned to swallow you whole. Yet your drop of hope is a building, with red brick and plants across the windows and the faint warmth seeming to emanate from it. You wander towards it, until it seems to warp to fit you, a door opened under your fingers, and soon you're in a diner, connected to what looks like a school or college or library.

The air here is warm, inviting, with even gray walls with paintings lining them, windows that bring in light (you know not from where), so many potted and hanging green plants, and chairs set up at amber brown tables, a place for people, yet only you so far...

The smell of food and sweetness is in the air, but you don't see any food or drinks, only the counter. There is no register, no workers, no trash or mess. Just clean, neat, empty places, as though waiting to be filled, but no one to fill them.

"Hello, dear."

The sudden voice startles you, and you whirl around to see, sitting in the chair behind you, someone else. Their eyes are warm and bright, cool and dark at the same time. Their hair seems brown, but is then black, then golden, then white, then pink, each time you blink it's something new. Their skin changes as well, from human to shades to some inhuman, or seeming to turn invisible as well. Glasses sit on their nose, and they smile, welcoming and slightly amused.

"Never seen this place before?"

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak quite yet. Who is this person? Why are you here? Do they know where everyone is?

The person chuckles, eyes squinting a little, then speak. "Ah, well. We always come back around here. It's quite a fun place, once you pick out where you want to go."

You don't understand what they're saying. We? Where even are you two?

"Yes, we. Never met me, huh? Well, yes, you have. You just don't remember. I only remember each time we're back here." They never seem to lose their happy, laid back demeanor, simply stretching a little, then they tilt their head at the chair across from them. An invitation. You take it, wondering who this stranger is, and what they know.

"You see, my dear, I am you, and you are me, but we both aren't at the same time. There has been many yous, many mes, many wes, and each time we come here is the one time we get to talk. It is very confusing, but the point is, it's like, say, a hive, with bees who are all related and intertwined and usually genetically similar, if not the exact same, but we share one mind or soul between the lot of us all. So we all are our own person, but we're the same, or similar. A variant, if you will. I am a part of you, and you a part of me. I am your power, your virtues, your morals, your flaws, and you are the life, the central unit, the one who sees and hears all. And we as a whole make one, all of us make one, and that one needs to make a choice.

"What choice, you may ask? Well, my dear, it's a matter of life. Your department. We... well, we aren't currently we. We're somewhere, like a womb or a void or a place between places, not life or death, just being... and we have to go back. But there are a lot of places to go, you know, and so many options, and we only get to choose one each time. Sometimes we choose something entirely new, like dragonfruit ice-cream. Sometimes we choose a classic, like a chocolate chip cookie. Even some messy choices, like cherry pie. The more cutesy ones are like boba tea. Inviting, feel-good worlds are like hot cocoa. Crack ones are like poprocks in soda. What I and you need to decide is what we want this time. So, what are you in the mood for?"

Is... is this person crazy?

Other worlds? We as in me and them, being one and the same yet not? Powers and virtues and flaws? Poprocks?! Are they out of their mind? You want to tell then they aren't making sense, that something isn't right, but they laugh, and you feel a bit more relaxed. They don't seem scary or dangerous; they feel like an old friend, or like how a sweater feels in the mid-October breeze.

"We aren't crazy, dear. I know, it's a shock each time we do this. You're not the only one who's confused in here." They chuckle, but tap their fingers against the warm brown table, their glasses reflecting a bit of overhead light. "There's a lot out there, and I know we want to call it quits; we have before. It's just..." They sigh, pinching the bridge of their nose, their other hand taking their glasses off for a moment. They seem tired now, almost weary. "We... we have to choose. And we can't disappear. I'm afraid we're too important a person for that."

You stop them there, asking what they mean. Why can't you two, or you, we, whatever you are, rest? Is there something going on?

"Well, dear... As there is one us, we, there are infinite more of them."

Them? You ask who they mean...

"I mean the people we meet. The ones who are the reason we come here, time and time and time again. They cannot exist without us. They don't want to, and they simply... can't. There are many, many versions of them, some practically the same, some so different it makes your mind spin. Sometimes we are friends with them; sometimes enemies; we are even blood family in some worlds; but in the end, they exist only as long as we do. They stop when we do. They're drawn to us, no matter what we choose or what we do or where we go or if we cease to exist. It cannot be changed."

You stare, taking it all in.

There are people who you can't escape... An entire world of them... An entire Multiverse of them... and no matter what choices you make, or what world you choose, they will find you. You stare at your companion, and they seem almost sad, resigned, even. You pat their hand, making them look surprised. It fades away just as fast, as they pull you into a warm, sweet hug. It smells of honey and smoke, their sweater feels like fuzz and dandelions on your skin, their warmth sinks into you, and you both let your combined comfort sink in...

You ask what they recommend, pulling away to smile back at them, worried, but trying to make the best of this.

"Well... a snowcone would be a little bland, so maybe not one of those... might want to avoid the pigs-in-a-blanket, they're a bit too savory... caramel can be a little too sticky... apple pie is a bit too much to bite... so... what about some chocolate cake? It's sweet, dark, a little bitter, but it's a good bite, even rich..."

You nod, and suddenly there's a slice of cake before you. Your companion grins at you, and they take a forkful, and hold it up. You take a spoonful, and raise it to theirs. With a soft clink, you touch the pieces in a silent toast, then you take a bite...

The rich, deep taste rolls over your tongue... A hint of bitterness flecks it... Then the creamy filling glides in, sweet and conforting... And the bite is gone, and in a slow, dazed blink you slip away...

And then a new Reader enters a world, and a new adventure awaits, a world promises to them the moment they took a bite, and filled with people who'd come to love them someday, who'd do anything for them, no matter how dark it got or how bitter they became, with sweetness lining the cracked edges, a taste of despair and future warmth all in one...

[evilhorse]

The Thing (Volume 4) #1 (Benjamin Su Window Shades variant cover)

[dvzaiosamu]

The dulcet taste of your lips — osamu dazai.

Hello :3 I was bored, so I decided to make this oneshot about Dazai (yes, again... Ik I'm obsessed over him sometimes). I hope you all are doing good. Take good care of yourself, drink water, don't forget to eat!

The theme for today's oneshot is: A sticky (too sweet) morning after having a tough day at work yesterday. Slight angst at first, slight fluff and then slight nsfw scenes at the end.

The night before, Yokohama, Japan.

The night illuminates your room that you share with Dazai, a soft light that helps you see the big moon in the sky, everything generated a melancholic feeling in you. The memories of all those times, your dark age where the light of the moon meant you had to go out and kill on orders from your superiors. The cold colors of the night are variants of many shades of colors that appear on your tired face.

You were sitting in front of the large window that gave way to views of the city. You observed the moon and the surroundings, although you did not really understand why, it is as if you had settled into an infinite trance that repeats itself every time you open yourself and begin to unconsciously read the pages of your past, which torments you like a terminal cancer, stabilized in your brain; This has made your perception of the world mostly negative, but now you were alone, Dazai had not yet returned from work, you understood that he had a night shift, it would probably not take more than an hour for him to appear with his charismatic smiles to hug you tenderly.

What a nightmare it was to be alone. It's not because it scared you, it wasn't for any reason that it provoked an inner fear in you, an intense dread, no, it wasn't like that. It was a nightmare because all the time you had thoughts running through your head, regretting that there were once people who, after your feline agility, scratched them, but not with nails, but with a sharp katana that you no longer have because you had just passed page. Although you are no longer the same, the past is still there, unconsciously you go deeper into the pit into which you had originally fallen.

You move uncomfortably through your thoughts, and in order not to continue looking at the moon, you get up slowly, rubbing your sleepy eyes, sighing when the change of position causes you terrible fatigue, increased by the long and terrible day you had had at work. Your bones seemed to creak like a bird's wing when you broke it in half, it was all in your imagination, but you would swear you heard some bones crunch, you get confused, but you still understand that those were the bones of people you killed in the past, that now replay in your mind.

You rub your temples, in a circular motion, but you can't get rid of the less than happy memories. You walk towards the small kitchen that housed the Agency's dorm. You take a clear glass and fill it halfway with fresh water. You hold it in your hand for a relatively long time, watching the artistic light of the kitchen projecting itself onto the glass in yellowish tones. The moment comes where you finally direct the surface of the glass towards your lips, drinking the water slowly, as if you were afraid that if you drank it too quickly, the glass would fall and break into millions of crystals that you would then step on, causing painful injuries.

"What's even happening to me..." You whisper these words once you place the glass in the sink. Your words come out like a ghost's whisper, almost unpredictable, a soft tone but slightly distorted by your own head that made you hallucinate voices or things that weren't really there and never existed. "What is wrong with me?"

For about a minute you remain motionless, thinking about the possibility of somehow eliminating those thoughts and freeing yourself. You were trying to organize yourself, your thoughts were rebellious, they didn't pay attention to you, and this wasn't just now, reversing time, you were a little girl who had a single order stuck in your head, "Kill when it's night. When it falls and the moon is seen". Even as an adult now, that order repeats itself like a broken record in your brain, and once again, another sigh leaves your mouth. Exhausted by suffering and the invisible rope that keeps you between the future and the past, you decide to walk towards your shared futon with your sweet partner, the tatami around it gave it elegance, but that was not what you were worried about at that moment.

You lie down and your head falls on the white pillows, freshly washed yesterday. You try to close your eyes, and although it is difficult, you finally manage to sleep.

─────

The morning comes as at the beginning of summer and the warm rays of the sun make the eyes open slightly. Outside now you see a sun, a yellow sun that shines, although you know that in hours that will be a moon, but that no longer torments you, since the orange colors of the sky make you calm down and think that you are in paradise. The sun's rays simply hit your skin and warm it pleasantly.

Beside you, you feel arms embracing you possessively, and it's just then that you realize that Dazai has returned. You could feel his heat hitting your back and his head on the back of your neck. With a slow movement, not even realizing if he was asleep or just waiting for his sleeping beauty to wake up, you stretch your arms, and you know it was a pleasant stretch as you hear your bones stretch. You yawn slightly, and turn your head to see your partner.

"Good morning, dear. Did you sleep well?" A voice soft like honey, cloying like melted sugar and a serene look, even maintaining his charisma makes you feel better after that night.

"I can't assure you of that... I didn't have a very good time last night, the memories torment me again, Dazai, I don't like to be alone when there is a moon in the starry sky," you explain with a slight complaining tone, as if you were blaming him for not coming ooner. "I only slept well the moment you came with me to sleep."

"I'm so sorry, belladonna... Kunikida made me finish my report and didn't let me go until it was ready," a drama in his tone of voice makes him sound like a whining puppy. "Believe me... I missed you a lot too."

Dazai's arms grab you and pull you towards him, so that you fall on top of him, your breathing changes slightly to a faster one, you watch him calmly, although in his eyes, your figure simply seduces him. You have Osamu at your mercy, and you notice how a pointed smirk appears on his face, one of his legs bending so that his knee is between your legs.

"You have to miss me a lot to be so hungry now, huh?" You scold him, gently grabbing him by the collar of his shirt. He just smiles.

“I have to say… the only thing I’m hungry right now is dessert,” his words pause, in which his hands rest on the sides of your torso, bringing you closer to his desired position. His body lifts and sits up only to let the weight of your body rest on his lap, a shy look coming from you. "And that dessert is you."

“I don’t think cannibalism is ideal,” you reply, mildly bewildered.

A joyful laugh comes from him and his warm smile only widens as he looks at you tenderly. "No, silly, I didn't mean that... I meant something else!"

"What 'something else'...?"

A sudden kiss falls on your warm lips. A voracious hunger emanating from him doesn't allow you to react and you are taken by surprise by the flame that burns inside him every time he looks at you. Your lips fight to stay firm, but his insistence on having you close to him while he devours you makes you give in at one point, small bites on your lip, and you know that his way of kissing is passionate when he feels like it and soft when he thinks it's romantic —something that turns out too well—. The warmth of the morning envelops Osamu, and sooner than expected, his tounge joins the kiss, dancing with yours hungrily. What had you done for yourself, an innocent lamb, to fall into the clutches of a wolf?

Just when you think you're going to run out of air, he finally stops feeding on your lips, which would probably have a few small bruises on them. Both you and him take a breath and observe each other in silence, you feel how passion envelops you, although a shyness for such an intimate act knowing that you were not the type of person who liked sudden and rather soft kisses.

You are surprised how his cold hands sneak under your pajamas, touching your abdomen with an innocent smile, trying to escape a judging look from you, but you really didn't have the strength left to scold him, now you were just surprised. You absolutely hated this moment.

"I didn't expect you to do that..." you murmur sheepishly, a slight frown appearing on your face when he dares to move his hand downwards, you grab it and hold it down.

“What can I say… Hunger eats me up inside,” he sighs, his hand resting on your cheek. You really wondered why he liked to touch you whenever he could, no matter where he was. "The dulcet taste of your lips has left me satisfied, but I think I still have a little piece left to taste..." His eyes lower slightly down your body, and with a wicked smile he rolls you to the side, taking advantage of your confusion to be the one who had you immobilized.

"Dazai... Please, I just woke up earlier, do you really want me to go to work tired after what you're going to do?" You ask him, a small fear is present that swirls in your abdomen, and he seems to read your thoughts as if he lived in your brain, and an icy hand presses your abdomen, you squirm in place, and this increases Dazai's desire by seconds. "Please, let's just do this later?"

"You see, I can't really wait... You've done this, you're the one who's gonna solve it..." with his hand releasing pressure on your abdomen, he unbuttons his pants, eagerly anticipating it. Your nerves are starting to get to you, this is probably the second time in your life you've done this with him, and you don't expect it to be the last. "I'll go slow... I promise. Well, you might just see a few stars, but nothing too uncommon, really," his voice caresses your ear when he leans to whisper these, and you freeze when he also attempts to lower your pijama shorts.

You blink, nervous.

"We still have all morning... Well, shall we get started, my dear?" a smug on his lips as he pulls down the remaining underwear, so slowly it's like a torture for himself.

Ok, this is my first time writting suggestive scenes... I don't know if it's good or not, so comments about what you thought about this oneshot is appreciated.

[margueritesauvage]

Hello, here's my variant from the "window shade" series for DAZZLER #1 - Jason Loo and Rafael Loureiro’s DAZZLER #1, on sale in September - @marvelcomics #marvelcomics #dazzler #comicscover #illutration 

[inventors-fair]

Meaningful Sacrifices: Garbage Day Winners

~

Our winners this week are @brookeuwo, @izzet-always-r-versus-u, and @melancholia-ennui!

@brookeuwo — Irresponsible Revelry

Okay, right out of the gate, I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt and assume that "tapped creature tokens" was supposed to be "tapped treasure tokens." You definitely get points for the design naturally suggesting what it should have been, but do watch out for that. That out of the way, I'm a big fan of what you have going on here. White has dabbled in these sorts of "catch-up" mechanics plenty, but adding red to throw things away and rig it in your favor is a great addition. I like how the costs specifically help achieve the next effect in sequence, encouraging you to set up the entire thing. Conversely, that does mean it's a touch more awkward if you already meet one of the conditions and still have to pay the cost, but that's the nature of the beast. Especially so when the individual payoffs are this strong.

@izzet-always-r-versus-u — Infiltrator Drone

I'm always a big fan of cards that force you to puzzle out how to best use them. At a baseline, this either sacrifices itself to investigate or creates nothing and triggers abilities based on artifacts entering or dying. That's honestly still fairly good, but it's when you throw other artifacts you don't mind sacrificing into the mix that it gets interesting. Essentially replacing whatever gets scrapped with a clue that can itself be cracked for a card is a pretty wicked value engine in the right deck, and it's all on a very efficient body. Plus, the flavor is just very clever. Investigation used to frame outright espionage is a fun twist on the formula, and the sacrifice representing just how reckless the futurists are being is the cherry on top. Very nice!

@melancholia-ennui — Warden of the Witchlight

A fairly simple design, but I'm finding myself rather suckered in by the flavor of it all. It's an excellent name, especially paired with the eye-catching type of Shade Warlock, and Pitiless Bargain just feels like what the variant on the mechanic should be named. Not to disparage the body of the card, of course. It's a suitably wicked value engine that immediately pays itself off and then gets a bit of value whenever you bargain from then on. I do worry it's stepping on the toes of Malevolent Witchkite a bit too much—especially at uncommon—but there are some meaningful differences. The life loss, obviously, but also moving the sacrifices from entry to on cast opens up a rather conspicuous window to be blown out by a well-timed counterspell. Very thought-provoking at any rate.

~

Runners up will be up as soon as I'm done sifting them out of the pile. —@spooky-bard

[pirateygentleman]

Uncanny Spiderman ft Wall-crawler, cover and variants. Tony Daniel #1 cover Skottie Young [variant chibi style] Dave Wachter [variant window-shades] Sam De La Rosa [variant city roofs] Lee Garbett [variant smoke] Tony Daniel #2 cover Lee Garbett [variant romance]

[browsethestacks]

Marvel Comics Window Shade Variant Covers

Art by Jorge Fornés

[chi-the-idiot]

Hi, yes, Im on my shit again because I just finished The Adversary route (aka masochistic dom demon wants to rip me apart and maybe im in the wrong for getting hot off of it) and I have been swayed by my own mind into writing this sort of headcanon of sorts on the same vein as This other post I made, so go check that one out for full context of my insanity over this game.

(Basically this is me shipping the voices with their respective princess foils because if the gods they are variants of are in love then why wouldn't they be if they had the chance to have their own bodies? As always, characters may be out of character so be warned if that is not your style. This may also be worse than the last one, again im sorry.)

We begin with the Stubborn, waking up in the Adversary's dungeon. On the other corner of the room lies the demon in question, waking up just like he did. She seems to sense, in her confusion, his gaze examining her, and she turns her head to see him.

They look at eachother for a second... two... three... it feels like an eternity, the time they spend analizing eachother. The shade of their eyes, the shimmer of the skin or feathers under the moonlight coming through the window, the red marred scars on eachother's bodies. And from that, they understand:

Its over.

The narrator is gone, his control over their story relinquished. The voices are gone, too, and the silence is deafening.

That is until the jingling of chains breaks it, as the adversary rises from her position on the floor. Strong hooves move her towards her quiet companion, tail fluttering slightly behind her. Her expression remains emotionless, and she just so manages to get close to him against her restraints.

With a delicacy fitting for a princess, but strange for her new figure, she rises her unshackled hand towards the humanoid bird on the other side of the room. And then her face breaks into a wide, sharp grin, that which would seem intimidating to most.

But to the Stubborn? That might as well have been an invitation to share a romantic waltz. He takes her hand and shakily rises to his feet.

And dance they do. Over and over and over. Their music is the slashes of metal against skin, the grunts of pain and laughs of sadistic joy. Their "romantic mutterings to the ear" are the exclaimed insults towards one another's abilities. Their ballroom the basement to which they have confined themselves.

The Adversary refuses to escape her bindings, she finds the challenge exhilarating. The Stubborn insists that he doesn't need a weapon to fight her, but she refuses to land a single blow without it. He believes its because she thinks him weak.

(What she will never admit is that she still remembers when she beat him to a pulp and he kept rising. Again, and again, and again. How his body, his remains, were more and more twisted and deformed each time. She never wants to see that again, especially now that she cant be fully sure if he will ever wake up when he falls.)

Scars now litter their bodies, sihns that the apparent immortality that once revived them has been removed. The Adversary heals faster than the Stubborn, sure, but now each wound is permanent. To account for that, they decide on a pattern: they will fight until one of them collapses of exhaustion. They will take a break, during which they shall eat and rest. If a wound has been dealt that is too deep, they will rest until it has healed, no matter how long it takes (neither wants their onky companion to die and leave them alone once more). Once the wound has healed, the music shall start once more, and their dance continue.

(What remains unsaid, is that during the short rest, the other tends to patch down the hurt one's cuts and scratches. Were they both less guarded, they would call it "caring".)

One of those nights, as the Stubborn is wrapping up a deep gash in his leg, the Adversary calls for his attention.

"You don't need to go that far, you know?" She states, laying down on the floor, looking at the sky far beyond the bars of the window "During our fights, I mean."

The Stubborn smiles, ruggedly, almost in defiance, as if she meant it as a mere joke "What, you don't think me capable handling my own against you? Please, we've been doing this for so long, I didn't think you thought so lowly of me"

But the Adversary remains silent. She turns her gaze to him, her eyes filled with something dangerous... at least to the both of them.

A softness.

"I just... don't want to loose the only companion I've got. The only one who Gets what I am now." She sighs, softly, looking for the words, her tail moving agitatedly under her. Finally, she continues "...I don't want to lose You..."

Silence so thick you could cut it with a pair of claws extends itself throughout the dark basement.

The clicking of claws on the stone floor is the only sound that breaks it as the Stubborn kneels next to her head, and proceeds to carefuly and softly caress her scarred face. She lets him, strangely enough, and as the draw closer together, he murmurs...

"Well, then I guess it's good that we seem to have the same objective then, princess"

[slayerdurge]

A Deal with God (Post-Ending Durgetash Fanfic)

CHAPTER FOUR - OVERCOMING ROADBLOCKS

2 DAYS LATER

COUNTDOWN TO THE TOTAL CONVERSION OF BALDUR'S GATE: 18 DAYS

Gortash looked up from the stack of papers sprawled across his desk, noting the dawn break over the outer walls through the windows of Wyrm’s Rock Fortress. He’d stayed up all night. Not unusual for him. He’d never slept much—it had always seemed to him like a waste of precious, limited time. Now that he was in his second life, that maxim seemed doubly applicable. 

The Dark Urge had grabbed a few hours of sleep, stating jokingly that since a human couldn't consistently act or think as fast as an illithid could, she’d catch up with him at dawn. He could tell she was rising by the change in the level of coherence of her surface thoughts, and he turned toward their bed to greet her. She was already on her feet, which were technically a bit more like tentacles at the moment. He watched as she cast on her half-elven disguise, feeling very appreciative that she always chose to sleep stark naked. 

“You're leering,” she teased him through their shared mental link. 

“You love it,” he shot back. She walked over to him, ran her fingers briefly through his hair, then placed her hand at his chin, lifting his head slightly so she could kiss him more easily. Just once. They didn’t have time for more.  

But he still watched her out of the corner of his eye as she got dressed, pulling on a flowing, intricately patterned set of robes in dark gray and cool Banite green—the exact same shade as Stillmaker, the blade he’d once gifted her that he’d been surprised to see she still had in her possession the first time he’d seen her after her return to Baldur’s Gate. He was sure that she chose to wear this color specifically to honor his influence in bringing her to Bane. Her unspoken offer of gratitude was both understood and appreciated. She looked ravishing.

She pulled on her gauntlet, which was a metallic gray subtly tinted with a darker variant of the same green. No Netherstone, though. He’d noted that the first time he’d seen it. No one but The Dark Urge knew where she kept the Netherstones. Yet. 

As he watched her adjust her gauntlet, he started thinking that it might be rather fun to try to get her undressed all over again. But the day had begun, and they had far too much to accomplish. It was time for their morning debrief. 

“Ready to get started?” she asked him, as she took the open seat next to his.

“Always,” he replied, pulling his notes slightly closer as he turned to her. Any written records of their future plans would be destroyed before leaving the security of the office, but he still had to stay organized in the meantime. 

He began. “First, the curfews are working out tremendously so far. The last two nights have yielded full success from the joint Steel Watch-Flaming Fist conversion teams. Both Twin Songs and the Temples District are under our complete control.”

“So, barring any complications, the city should reach total conversion in—”

“18 days,” he said, interrupting her in his excitement. 

[read more on ao3]

[secretcatpolicy]

A comparative rarity here: you seldom find the same vehicle from two manufacturers. The same general car in different colours, sure, but not replicas of specifically the exact same car.

Both Tomica (always on the left) and Hot Wheels (always on the right) made models of the Lamborghini Sián FKP 37 based on the appearance of the car when it was revealed in 2019, with what Lamborghini call 'electric gold' paint - my impression is that it's a complex iridescent metallic paint with a green-gold shift that's hard to photograph in the same way Nissan's famous Midnight Purple III paint is. The car is a limited-run special model, based on the Aventador but with Lamborghini's first hybrid system, a curious system integrating an electric motor and supercapacitor into the gearbox. This is less a system to provide higher speed than it is a system powering low-speed manoeuvring and reversing, ideally preventing the whole overheating-and-catching-fire-in-Monaco-traffic schtick unique to owners of insanely expensive cars with enormous engines designed to be cooled by airflow (pic related):

The supercapacitor replaces the more common but much heavier battery pack and will barely power the car for more than a couple of kilometres, making this particular hybrid system unique in concept, not to mention almost entirely useless for improving fuel economy or reducing emissions. As a result this is Lamborghini's most powerful car ever at 807hp.

Unusually, no bulls were referenced in the naming of the car. 'Sián' is a Bolognese dialect word meaning a flash of lightning (becuz hybrid but also real fast, geddit?) but the 'FKP 37' references instead Ferdinand Karl Piëch, 1937-2019, grandson of Ferdinand Porsche and eventually chairman of Volkswagen, overseeing the purchase of Lamborghini by the VW group and essentially saving the company from bankruptcy (for about the 54th time). They made 63 of them, and 19 roadsters. I can't say it's a particular favourite of mine, mixing as it does the familiar Lamborghini look with the excessively sci-fi styling of the 2017 Terzo Millenio concept. I find it rather egregious, overstyled and kind of ugly, yet still somehow appealing.

Since I want at least one example of every car I even vaguely like (i.e. every Lamborghini except the Veneno), I pre-ordered the No.89 Tomica sight-unseen in 2021 when it appeared (delayed by COVID from 2020) on Amazon.jp, but later found the HW 2021 debut version going cheap on there and realised I could really do an apples-to-apples comparison in this case. Both are almost identically sized, although the Tomica is heavier.

First, colour. For me the Tomica wins this, with a deeper more complex lustre to the green-gold and a little more shade variation with angle. By comparison the HW is perhaps more metallic, but thinner and flatter. However, the deciding factor to me is detail - where the HW has a tampo Lamborghini badge and detail around the headlights and front corner aero leading up over the wheel arch vents, on the Tomica this detail is painted in satin slate grey (I added the silver around the lights), and continues around the bottom of the windscreen, on the side intakes, rear wheel arches and stabilising fins at the ends of the spoiler while HW leaves all this body-coloured, using the interior piece for the side intakes (I added the black detail myself on the HW version). The Tomica also has a Lamborghini badge tampo. From a different perspective, HW has made 4 colour variants and one more is coming later this year, while Tomica had 4 in total, 2 of which were rare limited editions, before discontinuing the model.

in terms of sculpting, the Tomica again is the better of the two. The HW ends the roof glass too far back, omits engine cover seams and the filler cap is barely defined, leaving the top rear insufficiently defined. The air channels at the base of the windscreen are part of the metal on the Tomica but part of the window on the HW, but the HW has wipers where the Tomica omits them, and both omit mirrors. The window piece over the engine is is well defined on both, but the rough-textured side windows let the HW down. Using the interior for the side intakes is a great idea, though, and adds potential for interesting colour variation in future versions.

The rear view is probably where the two models most differ. The HW uses tampos on the interior piece for the lights and plate, also using a tampo to add the green of the lower diagonal bodywork pieces and appearing to have a horizontal seam in the centre which doesn't actually exist on the real car. However, it adds a licence plate with authentic Lamborghini typography. The Tomica integrates the whole light assembly into the metal body and uses the base for the vent and exhausts, but omits the plate entirely. The exhausts came painted silver on the Tomica whereas I had to add that detail myself on the HW. The diffuser is more accurate to reality on the Tomica.

Underneath, the Tomica is also better, with a little chassis detail along with scale information, whereas the HW is almost entirely smooth and as ever has no scale. Note both were originally riveted and the M2 bolts and washers are my addition.

Where wheels are concerned, main line Hot Wheels will win over Classic Tomica almost every time. Classic Tomica vehicles' main weakness is the lamentable and honestly incomprehensible lack of wheel variety, modernity and detail (whereas with Premiums, the opposite is true - while they lack rubber tyres, every Premium Tomica gets unique wheels corresponding to the real car's wheels, elevating them above HW premiums in my view). That being said, the gold ring on the Tomica doesn't look bad, and the chrome wears better than the HW chrome. These HW wheels look really nice on this colour of car and for once, praise be, they resisted the temptation to make the back wheels bigger.

Looking inside we can discover the last secrets of the Sián. The HW has more credible reclined seats, but the engine detail is lacking compared to the Tomica, which also has a better-defined steering wheel and potentially has room to fit a driver figure if you're into that. It's also interesting to note how different the sculpt of the central console is, though I haven't seen a picture of the car's interior so I can't say which is more realistic.

Hope you enjoyed this compare and contrast exercise; if I had to nominate a 'winner' it would be the Tomica, but maybe with the HW wheels swapped in. Only two other noteworthy things here: 1) the Tomica has suspension, which is a delightful but pointless feature that is appealing as a tactile feature inasmuch as it's fun to press on the roof and feel it go ba-dump ba-dump, and 2) what the hell is that rectangle embossed into the base just in front of the rear axle all about? It appears on the inside of many, but not all HW car bases and here as in most it is entirely hidden and contains no markings or indication of its purpose.

[katy-133]

TF2 Blender Guide: Adding the Kritz Effect to Weapons

This is a guide on how to add hisanimations' Blender recreation of the Kritz effect to weapons. Guide by Katy133.

(Above image by hisanimations.)

The Shader Material

Select the mesh (not armature) of the weapon. (Image: Labeled 1 in screenshot)

In the Material Properties tab, select the weapon's material from the material slots (if there's a slot with gold in the name, it's the weapon's Australium material, which you can ignore if you aren't using that one. Ditto the RED/BLU team variant you aren't using). (Image: 2)

Go to the Shading workspace tab at the top. In the Shader Editor window, select the New Material button, located to the right of the name of the selected material. You've now created a copy of the weapon's material (its name ending with the .001 prefix). Rename this new material something clear, like c_scattergun_kritz (adding the _krtiz prefix to the name). (Image: 3)

Add > Color > Mix Color. Change the node's blend mode from Mix to Overlay and the node's Factor to a value of 1.0. For the B colour, select it and change the Hex to #FF423E (red). Then plug the $basetexture node's Color to the Overlay node's A. Plug the Result to the VertexLitGeneric node's $basetexture [texture]. (Image: 4)

For the VertexLitGeneric node, change the values of the following node properties:

$selfillum [bool]: 1.0

$selfillummask [texture alpha]: 0.230

Selfillum strength: 48.740

The weapon should now appear bright red, with the textures of the weapon appearing underneath. Depending on the weapon you are altering, you may want to play around with these values. (Image: 5)

To keep the data of the original weapon material shader, go to the Material Properties tab, press the Add Material Slot (the + button), and then add the name of the original (unedited) copy of the weapon material to the slot. (Image: 2)

The Lightning Geo Node

Go to the Modifiers property tab. Select Add Modifier > Geometry Nodes. There should now be a Geo Node modifier to the mesh. (Image: 1)

At the top of the screen, select Edit > Append… In the new window, find the .blend file for hisanimations' Kritz Effect. Select it > Node Tree > Kritz Effect > Append.

Back in the Modifiers property tab, select Kritz Effect from the dropdown menu of the Geo Node modifier. You will now see a bunch of new properties. (Image: 2)

For Spark Color, change the Hex to #FF4144 (red). Change Emission to 5. Change Max Jitter to 900. The lightning should now appear on the weapon when you play the Timeline. The lightning will face the active camera. (Image: 3)

Turning it Off/On For Animations

Sometimes, for an animation, you want a shot where a weapon becomes Krtiz-ed or a shot where the Kritz effect wears off. For that, you can keyframe the necessary values on/off, which I will list below for both the material shader and the lightning geo nodes.

To add keyframes to a value, you can either hover over it and press the add keyframe hotkey, or right-click on the value and select Insert Keyframe. Yellow means there is a keyframe on the frame you are currently on in the Timeline. Green means that there is a keyframe somewhere else on the timeline.

For the shader material: Keyframe the Overlay node's Factor's value from 1.0 to 0.0 (1 being 100% on, and 0 being fully off).

For the lightning: Keyframe on/off the Realtime and Render visibility buttons in the Geo Node modifier (via the Modifiers property tab).