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deadsetobsessions · 8 months

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Listen, I know it’s not my usual thing, but I just re-read Dark Matter by mysterycyclone (iconic, so good, incredible, I’ve reread this at least ten times) and this newer work, Help Me, I Don’t Feel Like Myself Anymore by Astra_Nova_Kat (it’s off to a really good and fleshed out, very long start- it’s like 20k for the first chapter omg).

I just. Love?? Them??? They’re both, urg, so good. The writing style, the way the story moves, the natural progression of plot and their usage of tropes are so well done that rarely does it feel awkward. Amazing. Anyways, they inspired me to put my two cents into the proverbial offering hat and while this might not ever be a realized fanfic, here it is? This will have multiple parts.

Uh, I’m basing Peter’s personality off of the really tired millennial energy Tobey Maguire gives, the awkward but well meaning disaster vibes of Andrew Garfield, and the sassy acrobatic chaos gremlin of Tom Holland. All kind of mushed together with the hyper competence and maturity of both the PS4 spidey and pretty much most spider people. He’s 22, or something but that doesn’t really matter?? Background doesn’t really matter because I’m basically making my own spider-verse. Spider… past? Eh. New Peter!

Spider in Gotham AU- Pt.1

[Pt.2]

——

Spider-Man swung through the skyscrapers of his city, enjoying the winds and sounds of New York as he kept a sharp eye out for crime.

He remembered doing this without any of the fancy tech his suit had now, when he was dressed in less protective clothing. God, 100% cotton while crime fighting? The spandex was better but god ugly.

His spider-sense blared. Spider-man quickly shot a web to the top of the building, going towards the danger instead of away from it.

He goes in feet first, years of knocking common thugs to legitimate gods to the ground making short work of the people on the roof top. He flips out of the way, dodging a blast of crackling green energy.

“Heyyyy, common robbers! What’s up with shiny lasers, huh? Breaking and entering not doing enough for ya?”

Spider-Man dodges a couple more shots, flipping again to knee a guy in the face, gently. The man goes down in one shot.

“Stay still, you motherfucker!”

“Does that actually work for you guys?? Like I’m down to get killed but, man, I’m not gonna stay still to get downed by some two bit thugs?” Spider-Man kept his words light and mocking, webbing up a laser gun and yanking it out of the woman’s hands. He punches her in the face and knocks her out, using the laser gun like a mildly bulky baton.

“Eat shit, Spider-bitch!”

“Ouch! Oh no, my feelings! You’ve hurt them!” Spider-Man shoots a web at the lady who’d shouted and yanked, before smacking her straight down to the concrete of the rooftop. His hearing picked up two people coming up the stairway and Spider-Man tossed two web bombs, the metal mechanism attached itself to the wall, waiting for their unknowing victims.

Spider-Man ducked and weaved, downing goons as they piled on him while shooting bullets, lasers, and just charging at him with a bat or a crowbar. After eight years of pretty much this exact thing, Spider-Man had gotten the science of breaking up goon dog piles without hurting them too much to an exact measurement. He quipped at them until they got annoyed, which made them sloppy. Spider-Man sighed as another guy came at him with a crow bar and a gun that he was pretty sure was still stuck on safety. He crouched, kicking out their legs and dodging a swipe of a bat where his ribs would have been and webbed the guy to the floor. Yeah, he’ll wrap this up and end patrol. Maybe he still had Mac n’ Cheese at home, or he could stop by Angelo’s for a sub?

Huh. His options for dinner was limited.

“Take this!”

Even without the forewarning of his spidey-sense, Spider-Man would have ducked out of the way regardless.

“Shouting your sneak attacks isn’t actually all that sneaky, you know!” Spider-Man kept his voice cheery and mocking.

“Get him!”

God, why were there so many people trying to break into an insurance company? This definitely doesn’t smell like a regular B&E. With the shit he’s seen in New York, if it smells like a plot, acts like a plot, then it’s probably a villain with a tragic backstory with big, annoying plans.

Great.

Oh, speak of the devil!

“Spider-Man.” His senses blared.

He couldn’t move out of the way fast enough, not without risking the life of the goon he was currently fighting, so Spider-Man took the blast the punched the breath out of his lungs. The wide eyes of the goon made up for some of the pain.

“Ugh!” Spider-Man slammed into an HVAC, denting the metal. His suit, made special polymer blend from Wakanda that he saved for months to get, absorbed some of the shock. Shit, he hoped it didn’t tear. It would be a bitch and a half to dip into the back up stock he had in his hammer space.

The goons left standing quickly rushed him and held him down to face the new boss.

“You’ve been getting on my nerves, Spider.”

“Yeah,” Spider-Man coughed out, letting the two goons think they could hold him down on his knees as he recovered his breath. “I have that effect on people.”

“But you could be an asset, if you’d join me?”

“Uh, I don’t join or sign things without knowing what I’m joining or signing, my guy. My lawyer said so.”

The villain paused, helmeted head cocking to the side.

“You have a lawyer?”

“Yeah. Kind of? He does pro-bono work for the helpless cases. You know, like, a well meaning, crime fighting vigilante?”

“…Does he do cases against insurance companies?”

“Oh man, you too? Dude, this place sucks,” Spider-Man sighed.

“You’ve had trouble too? Then you must see why I’m doing this!”

This was a bit weird, but if there’s anything that brings people together, it’d be corrupt insurance companies. He’s almost tempted to let them break in, just to be extra petty.

“Nah, my neighbor? Sweet old lady. They’re screwing her out of her entire place. I totally get it, man. Hey, if you need a referral, you can tell my lawyer that Spider sent you. He’s real good.”

“How good?” The goons release him and Spider-Man stood up, stretching his limbs.

“Like, Dare Devil good.”

“You know Matt Murdock??”

“Sure do.”

“He… he’ll take on our cases?”

“Dang, all of you?”

“Yes. We can pool enough money to pay him for one or two.”

“Nah, I’m pretty sure he’ll take you guys on for free. But it wouldn’t hurt if you all went to meet him, just so he can decide which one of you has a higher chance to win in court?”

“We will. Uh.” The villain paused sheepishly. Well, not a villain, more like an unfortunately angry and poor decision making citizen. “Sorry about… you know, the blast.”

“It’s cool. I mean,” Spider-Man gestured to the rooftop, the bodies of unconscious people kind of laying around where he knocked them down. “You guys might wanna check on them, yeah? I’ll let you go for now, but if you commit a B&E again, I’ll leave you webbed up for GCPD to find.”

“Got it. Sorry.”

Feeling good about himself, and plotting corporate espionage, Spider-Man went to help pry some people from his webs.

And of course, because Parker Luck kicks in only when Spider-Man felt like life was looking up for himself, Spider-Man’s senses blared once more as he knelt down to pull at some webbing.

“Oh, shit!” He heard, right before a cold blast of something slammed right into his head, knocking him out.

And Spider-Man

——

Larry looked at the the empty space where Spider-Man, the guy who took a hit from his boss’ blaster so he wouldn’t get hurt, used to be.

He twisted.

“Boss, what the fuck?!”

“Shit! That was accident!” Boss pulled herself up from the concrete, where she just ate dirt.

“Where did he go?”

“I don’t know, Larry! That was the experimental warped mode! Crap!” His boss scrambled with the controls, desperately trying to see if the magic gun her magician friend had handed her years ago had a reverse button. It didn’t.

“Why would you bring a test weapon into the field?!”

“I gave you all of my other ones!” She threw up her hands. “Fuck, I feel so bad.”

Larry paled. “Dude, Dare Devil’s gonna kill us.”

“He doesn’t kill!” His boss hesitated. “I think.”

Larry pointed to the empty space. “Yeah? He might start with us. Spidey was a cool guy and you just disappeared him!”

“I know!”

Larry buried his head into his hands and tried not to hate himself for the entire situation.

——

Spider-man woke up, laid flat on the grimy ground of an alleyway.

“Ugh. Just my luck.” He kept his eyes closed for just a beat longer to allow himself time before having to pull his shit together. Why was his voice high? And a bit squeaky? He pulled himself together.

“Okay.” He whispered to himself, before sitting up and taking stock of the situation.

First thing that hit him was that it stunk to high heavens. Gagging, Spider-Man looked to the right and- yeah, that’ll do it. He stood up on wobbly legs to try to move away from the overflowing dumpster.

That’s when the second, more important and decidedly more troublesome, observation hit him.

He’s short. Shorter. And his suit was hanging off of him.

He could tell he still had his normal by now physiology, with the speeding heartbeat and the feeling of super strength. But he’s shorter. With a mounting sense of equal parts dread and resignation, he pulled at the hidden seam by his nape, relying on his both his enhanced senses and spidey-sense to tell if anyone was nearby or looking at him. He pulled the Spider-Man suit off, blankly folding it neatly as he stared dumbly at his hands. They’re small too. Shit. He stumbled to a nearby mud puddle and stared down, seeing his younger face in the contaminated water. Double shit.

He’s starting to loose his composure. He’d gone through a lot of bizarre things over the last eight years. But getting accidentally Detective Conan’ed by a person he just helped was a new low.

The black under layer of his suit, a slash proof and fire resistant polymer Peter had designed himself in MIT’s lab, was in a similar state.

With one hand, Peter Parker numbly rolled up his sleeves and pant hems. Great. Okay. Now what?

Ah. Shoes. He did not want to walk around in his too-big Spider-Man boots. He looked around. Well, there’s the laces of what looked to be like a pair of dumpster shoes. “Yeah, no.”

Shit. Does he still have access to his hammer space?

Peter reached into his pocket, and tried to reach for a pair of normal sneakers. His shoulder slumped as he produced a pair. Fuck yes. He still has access! And shoes! They’re ones he took off of a power line for a well off kid who didn’t want it anymore. He was going to donate them to F. E. A. S. T. but he’s thanking the stars he procrastinated a bit on swinging by the center. He put them on. They’re a bit big, but it’s better than the giant-in-comparison ones he normally wears. You know, as an adult.

He hesitated with his mask. He should at least figure out where he is. He hoped it was still in the states. His mask blinked, the HUD in his lenses informing him that it was trying to find a connection. “That’s weird.” He paused, grimacing at the sound of his voice. But it is weird, because he had his mask automatically connected to the world wide satellites Tony Stark had sent circling the globe for citizens without internet access as a back up option. So either he was somewhere even the Stark Satellites couldn’t reach or…

Peter swallowed, his mask pinging as it found a connection to piggy back on. He clicked his tongue twice to activate the voice controls.

“Connect to the local maps. Where am I?”

His masked followed the order. [Gotham. New Jersey.]

Peter stared at the words, gut churning.

Good news, he was still in the States. Bad news? He’s shrunk, in a totally different state, and possibly in a different world because he’s not connected to the Stark Satellites he knew operated in New Jersey.

Peter Parker tilted his head back and allowed himself one verbal, panic level six and up, curse word.

“Fuck.”

He took off his mask and leaned against a slightly cleaner part of the wall before hyperventilating.

——

Half an hour later, Peter smacked himself on the cheeks and pulled himself together.

“You’re Spider-Man,” he hissed to himself. “Have a mental breakdown somewhere warm, you dumbass.”

Peter Parker was a champion, world class expert at compartmentalization.

He slipped his mask back on, and pulled up his “So You’re Stuck in an Alternate Universe” list he had made with Ned so many years ago when they were high school kids and going through comic books to make contingencies because Peter was a little idiot vigilante hero.

“I didn’t think I’d actually ever need this kind of thing.” Peter muttered. He slipped his black back up gloves on to connect to his mask’s display in order to type.

“Okay,” he glanced at the side by side screens in his lenses. “Money.”

Five things.

1) The emergency cash he’d stashed on him thankfull matched the pictures of cash he’d found on this world’s internet. Yay!

2) He had $1000 tucked away. Not yay. Not if this might be a long term stay before he got back to his own dimension. Not if he wanted a place to sleep.

3) Luckily, thanks to his earlier search of where the hell he was, Peter figured out that due to the high crime rates- “Dang, that’s worse than New York on New Year’s Eve,” he had marveled- Gotham was dirt cheap and that that meant 1k dollars could actually last him a while and he could afford a room for a month on $250. A whole ass apartment for $550. Peter seriously considered staying in this universe just for the rent prices. So what if there’s rampant crimes? He’d deal with it if the rent was that cheap.

4) Problem? He’s fucking tiny. Who would rent to a person that looked like child? Not anyone upstanding, that’s for sure. He’s more likely to get mugged. Counterpoint: he’s in a city where apparently shady people are all around. Also? He doesn’t have an identity.

5) If the fact that he couldn’t connect to the Stark Satellites didn’t convince him he was either in another universe or an alternate dimension, the visual graphics of the websites he visited would. It was like looking at Windows in the early way before Stark Co. bought them out and improved the design. Nauseating.

Okay, so, money’s not too urgent of an issue. Next on Ned’s list: Places of Interest.

Namely, libraries, homeless shelters, crime hotspots, and the like.

Peter snorted when he came across an opinions article talking about how Park Row became Crime Alley. And then he frowned, because that story was not painting this place to be even remotely nice. Then again, considering the crime rates and the various Rogues this place seemed to have in spades, that wasn’t much of a surprise. Peter marks the place in his new mental map of Gotham as a potential area he could either disappear to or get a new identity at. He then marked the libraries, Gotham City Public Library and its many branches all funded by generous donations from a Bruce Wayne, the Martha Wayne foundations’ shelters and charities, two supermarkets near the library, and a coffee shop he thought looked warm and cozy from the shitty pictures they have uploaded online. He needed coffee, dammit, and he needed it hours ago. Alas, he probably wouldn’t get to go to one until he secured his finances.

Well, it’s not like he doesn’t have practice being poor.

3) Which brings him up to Ned’s next, surprisingly reasonable for a teenager hoped up on a mountain load of sugar, point. Level of Tech.

Peter hid next to the dumpster, melding in with the shadows, as he continued his research.

Tech here was… well, he probably wouldn’t have to worry. The thought of not having a Starkphone, even his older model, was painful considering the new versions of these WaynePhones were really… behind. Peter doesn’t remember the last time he had buttons on his phone or let alone a touch screen that didn’t use facial tracking and biometrics or even have a holographic display mode.

“Ugh. Okay. Not the end of the world, Parker.” Peter muttered.

Now… People of Interest.

This was underlined three times with Ned’s red pens, with extensive subcategories.

Subcategory A? Villains, because “what if they put out a warning for a known villain and you get your butt kicked because you didn’t know about them, Peter? Wouldn’t that be embarrassing?”

He had replied, half focused on the list and the other on savoring the Millennium Falcon Lego set May had saved up for months to get him for his birthday, “I feel like if I was getting my butt kicked by a villain, I’d probably have better things to worry about than my utter humiliation, Ned.”

“True that,” Ned had snicked and jotted it down anyways.

And… well, Gotham had a lot of villains. The Joker (ew, that’s a crusty man in crustier face paint. This guy could learn so much from the cool mimes busking in Central Park. Like, how to do face paint. Or how not to be a massive murderous jerk. There’s Clayface, Two-Face, a bald guy in “Metropolis” (a name Peter couldn’t help but snort at because a city named city? That’s like na’an bread being bread bread. Or chai tea being tea tea) named Lex Luthor, and Scarecrow. He tabbed all of them and marked them for further perusal at a later date. From experience, he knew villains with a prominent M.O. and themes usually did more damage. Case in point: Rhino, and the million dollars of property damage the guy did everytime he escaped the Raft. Peter was seriously considering petitioning for the Raft to be placed further out just so he could have more warning the next time some assholes decided to free the prisoners and helped them escape.

He narrowed his eyes at the screen, his mask’s lenses following the movement. He’ll have to pick up a gas mask. Apparently bio-weapons are just a regular thing here and he really didn’t want to get dosed with this “fear toxin.” It’d be dangerous for everyone involved. Maybe if he gets his hands on a sample, he could build up tolerance and see how his immune system and metabolic rates affected the normal progression of the toxin. Ah, off topic. He’s gotta focus.

Subcategory B: Local celebrities.

“Why would I need to know local celebrities?” He’d asked.

“If someone came up to you and asked “Who’s Tony Stark?”, wouldn’t you clock that as super weird? You gotta blend in, Peter. Plus, you gotta keep up with the pop culture, dude. It’s important.”

“You just want alternate universe memes,” Peter grinned.

“That too. If you ever go to an alternate universe and come back, you’d better bring me a truckload of memes or I’ll never forgive you.”

Yeah. So. Wayne? Super important. Like Tony Stark levels of important. He found threads about them and the local vigilantes and their charity works. Peter’s brain instantly catalogued the info, all but memorizing the deluge of pictures he found of Bruce Wayne and his kids. Maybe the man had an adoption problem? Conspiracy threads and memes popped up alongside his research. He tabbed one on secret societies, because as Spiderman, he had fought a disturbing amount of secret societies that, on hindsight, had been theorized about on threads he’s read on his free time. Somehow, somewhere, somewhen, a conspiracy theorist could be right. Peter’s not about to dismiss that. He also saved like thirty different memes to send to Ned when he got back. If he got back.

Peter smacked that thought away. He’ll get back to his city or die trying.

Subcategory C, underlined and starred: Other Superheroes and Vigilantes.

Yeah, Peter’s excited about this one too. After Matt stopped being Dare Devil (but did he actually ever stop?) and Wade dipping in and out of NY, Peter’s gotten lonely as Spider-Man. He missed training with them. Of course, the fantastic four were still operating, but he doesn’t actually interact with them or the Avengers at all. Miles hasn’t been cleared (by his mom) to go out as Spiderman with near as many hours as Peter cleared a night. Peter stood behind that because he remembered how horrible it was to work as Spiderman and try to balance school on top of it. Also, he was terrified of Mrs. Morales and would never endanger her son more than he already does. He did wave to Black Widow from a rooftop once, spider to spider, and that was pretty much the coolest moment of his life.

So. Uh. The amount of vigilantes and heroes in this world? Amazing. In Gotham? There’s like, a whole team of them.

Batman, Nightwing (who, Username: Draken Draken had theorized, was the first iteration of Batman’s sidekick Robin), Red Hood, Black Canary, Huntress, Red Robin, Spoiler, the “day vigilante” Signal, the current Robin, and whispers of a “Black Bat.”

And their unfortunate “No Meta” rule with the singular exception of Signal. Peter figured their term of Meta was essentially the same thing as his world’s mutants. He’s not sure which term he liked more. Eh, he’ll worry about that later.

And there’s a Justice League! Which, to Peter, is just a bigger Avengers. There’s aliens on this world too. Superman. Martian Manhunter.

Peter grinned from his place crouched next to the dumpster. Yeah, this is awesome. He quickly memorized everything he could find, cross referencing posts and picking out the nuggets of truth or at least popular truth from the posts he viewed. Like, Red Hood operated in Crime Alley and was a crime boss with morals. Cool.

He’ll go down the spiral later. He mentally thanked Ned who was the best guy in the chair a teenage vigilante could ask for. He should really text his friend when he got back.

For now, he’ll head to the library and see if he could use their computers. He might need a card though… Peter quickly pulled up the search engine and found an Internet cafe. Ah, 24 hour internet cafes, the savior of his college days. There first, and then library, Peter decided. He memorized the instructions and pulled his mask off, tucking it away in the hammer space.

He walked out the alley and turned left, only to double take at his reflection in a shop window that was partially boarded up. Holy shit, he’s a baby. He’s like. 10!

Oh my god.

Peter twitched, tearing himself away from the window before the shop owner decided he was less curious and more potential mugger before promptly remembering that he looked less of a threat than ever. Mixed feelings.

Peter hurried his way to the internet cafe, paying the guy at the front a little extra so he’d ignore the obvious minor without a guardian thing Peter hasn’t gotten used to. Ugh. That was going to be annoying. He only paid for two hours and pulled up as many listings for a room as possible. By the end of it, he came out with $1 worth of fliers printed out and having funneled some billionaire’s offshore accounts into a new bank account he’d made by hacking into the bank servers. Does he feel bad about stealing? Yeah. But Peter’s a vigilante. He’s done worse than nabbing a monthly sum of a couple of hundreds from Lex Luthor’s off shore accounts. He’s not gonna get caught, and considering the guy’s rants on meta humans, Peter’s not feeling particularly guilty about it. He’ll do something good later to make up for it. Once he gets his footholds and can prepare his way back, he’ll even return to the rest of the money. Probably.

Peter left the cafe with his sheaf of flyers, stopping by an informational stand with free tourist maps and plucked one quickly from its plastic holder. He’ll pick something up from the food vendors on his way to the apartments. Peter began walking, taking in the sights of the gargoyles and-

“Nope!” He caught the wrist of a pickpocket. It’s a kid and he immediately felt bad.

“Lemme go. I ain’t done nothing to ya, ya Yorker tourist.”

“Okay,” Peter shrugged. “Don’t get caught the next time?”

The kid gaped at him. “Shi’, you must be really good at it. I’ve never been caught before.”

Peter wisely refrained from telling the kid it was due to his spidey-sense. He let go of the kid’s wrist and let a bit more of his accent out. “Why’d you need money anyways?”

“Food, duh.”

“Dude, I’m starving. Tell you what. You show me the best sub shop nearby and I’ll pay for your food. Deal?”

The kid stared at him, wide eyed. “You’re fuckin’ nuts. Why’re you being nice?”

“I’m hungry? Do we have a deal, kid?”

“… Fuck it. Fine. And don’t call me kid, shrimp. You’re like what, eight?”

Oh. Yeah. Peter’s a kid now. He shrugged.

“I’m older than you. I’m twelve.”

Peter blinked, frowning at how thin the kid’s wrists were.

“I’m Peter!”

“… Frank.”

He let Frank lead the way. Stranger danger doesn’t apply to him, he’s a grown ass man. In the body of a ten year old him, but still. A couple of minutes, four sandwiches and a load of chips later, Frank was watching wide eyed as he demolished three four dollar subs.

“Holy shit. Where are you packing that away? You’re a stick!”

Peter took a big bite of the sandwich as an answer. Frank looked down at his meal.

“Uh. Hey.”

Peter made a muffled noise of question, mouth stuffed full of steak and cheese.

“Sorry about. Uh. Trynna nick from ya.”

Peter chewed faster.

Frank continued, looking like he hated himself. “I wouldn’t… normally steal from shrimps like you but I was desperate and… really hungry, so. My bad.”

Peter finished chewing. “All good, dude. Eat your sandwich.”

Peter had the sudden urge to adopt Frank. Unlike Wayne, he’s not a billionaire, so he smacked that urge down. He could use a friend though. Now… how to be friends with a literal child!

“If you feel that bad about it, you could… be my friend?”

Peter took in the wide eyed gaze from the twelve year old in front of him. Abort! Abort! That was too direct!

“You’re fucking weird. But… okay.”

“That was easy.”

Frank scowled, kicking Peter’s shin.

“Ow!”

“Whatever, shrimp.”

Peter scowled. On his baby face, it came out as a pout.

Do not start beef with a twelve year old, Peter. You’re a grown ass adult.

“Hey, you know I’m new here, right?”

“Duh.” Frank took a bite of his food.

“Can you tell me which one of these are legit?” Peter handed Frank the flyers. He took them, an odd look passing his face.

“You’re looking for a place?”

“Yeah? Why?”

Frank stared at him. Looked back down. He instantly got rid of four listings out of the ten. “These are too close to the Alley. They’re probably traffickers.”

Peter hummed in agreement. Frank paused.

“You’re just gonna trust me on that?”

“Yeah? I can tell when people are lying.” Well, his spidey sense could, when he cared enough about the subject.

“What the fuck.” Frank shoved the rest the papers at him and guiltily munched on his food. “Are Yorkers all just like you?”

“Dunno? Probably not.”

“… Whatever. The rest of the places should work. They probably won’t ask questions.” Frank flapped a hand at Peter’s new situation. Yeah, the shortness was getting to him too.

Peter nodded. Obviously, they were the more expensive places, but considering the new found resources he’d… acquired during his time at the cafe, it doesn’t really matter.

“Cool! Wanna go see it with me?”

Frank immediately took on a suspicious glare. “Why?”

“I dunno? You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just thought since you know your way around…”

“Ugh. Fine. But if there’s anything shady, I’m fucking dipping out.”

“Okay!” Peter grinned for the first time the couple of hours he’d been trapped in this new world.

——

They’d found an apartment with a landlord that got a weird, sad face when she was talking to them about the apartment. After like, an hour of walking around and Peter’s spidey sense screaming at him not to even go near the places Frank had left in the pile of maybe’s.

“We walked all the way here. Ya not even gonna go in?”

“The vibes are off. It’s a no.”

And because Peter’s a genius idiot with no self preservation, he’d marked the places to investigate later.

Frank had blinked at him, mildly offended and nonplussed. After a while of spluttering, he just gave up. Eventually, they got here.

“I don’t normally rent to kids,” the landlord lady said. Peter immediately liked her. “But I’ll make an exception if you’ve got the cash.”

“I’d like to see the unit first, please” Peter said. He’s not stupid, and Gotham’s renting scene is both easier and harder than New York.

They toured it. Peter? He’d seen worse. He’d lived worse. Also, it had two bedroom and was $620. Yeah, Peter was really considering just staying here full time and commuting to his New York when he wanted to be a vigilante.

“I’ll take it, ma’am.” The landlord and Frank both snorted, sharing a Gothamite look.

“It’s Georgie, to you, brat. You just need the first month’s rent, since I’ll wave the deposit for you shrimps. Utilities included. Your friend stayin’?”

“No-” Frank had started.

“Yep!” Peter beamed, interrupting his new friend.

“What?” Frank turned, gaping again at this weird little kid who had enough money to rent a place and then invited a whole ass street kid he just met to live with him. “Are you stupid?! What if I rob you? Huh? I don’t need charity!”

Peter slowly looked around the empty unit.

“Uh.”

“No, that’s not the point!” Frank pointed a finger at Peter. “That’s how you get yourself killed!”

“But that’s why you should stay! I don’t know my way around Gotham so…”

Peter looked up at Frank, using his shortness for maximum devastation. “Please?”

Georgie leaned back on the heels of her feet, silently laughing. It’s not every day she sees a Gothamite street kid get out stubborned by an outsider, but she knows better than anyone that Gotham is weak to genuine kindness. And this Peter kid, the one that reminds her so much of her own? He’s practically filled with it.

“Yeah, kid,” she said to Frank, snickering. “Look at him. He’s gonna get mugged two steps into the Alley. Or anywhere.”

Frank flailed, but eventually, Peter handed over the money to an amused Georgie who gave them two keys in return and a move in gift of a pot pie.

“I gotta. Uh. Go get my stuff.” Frank had mumbled, dazed at whatever the hell just happened.

“Okay! I’ll see if I can go get furniture!”

“And lift them with your shrimpy arm? You wish.”

“I can use a cart.”

And really, he could, because Gotham had a lot of abandoned carts laying around. Like a concerning amount.

“Can you even reach the handle?”

“I’m not that short!”

Frank snorted, Georgie’s own chuckles following a beat after. Peter scowled at them.

“Be right back,” Frank promised, holding the key like it was treasure. He had been homeless for two and a half years now, so in his eyes, that key was as good as gold. He had somewhere warm to stay. Trying to pickpocket Peter was the best mistake he’s ever made in his short life. But he didn’t want to take advantage of that, well, no, he did want to, but he doesn’t want to take the genuine kindness for granted so he’ll see if there’s any street furniture he could haul back on his way.

“Okay!”

Georgie watched him go and turned to Peter.

“If you need stuff, there’s a thrift store and a grocery store that way.” She gave him the directions.

——

As soon as Frank and Georgie left, Peter immediately left his new place (and holy shit, he really didn’t expect things to be this easy. In New York, he had to spend at least a week checking out places because he had to figure out whether the problem that cause subtle twinges with his spider sense was worth living with. Here? It’s too obvious.) to buy supplies. He had $400. Until his new card came in, at least. He’d put his new address into that bank account addressed to a “Anthony Benjamin” before ordering a “replacement card.”

Peter ran to the thrift store, hurrying before the last traces of the sun dipped below the smog of Gotham. A frankly absurd amount of blankets, towels, pillows, clothes, packaged boxers, socks and shoes around his size went into the cart. To his chagrin, Peter couldn’t actually see much over the cart. Why the hell was he such a short ten year old? He blasted through the store, also guesstimating Frank’s sizes. He tossed in curtains, a used set of glow in the dark stars, and a lamp.

He also grabbed mismatched mugs, bowls, a bundle of cutlery, and a dented microwave he casually pretended to struggle getting onto the bottom part of the cart. It’s like lifting grapes for him, but he looks like a ten year old so…

He, guiltily, bought a mildly fancy camera in a set, with two separate lenses, even if one was cracked.

Not bad, for $150 total. Peter is going to definitely seriously consider commuting to New York. They didn’t even care when he walked out with the cart! Well, that might be because of the cashier who gave him a pitying glance.

He stopped by a general store on the way back, parking his cart in a rapidly shadowy alleyway. He swung by the new section of the store that reminded him of a Dollar Tree and got cleaning supplies, toiletries, and two pans and a pot. He grabbed some canned food and a couple of frozen meals in the back. Seasonings, ramen, general pantry staples went in. A role of paper towel. Nice. Venom would have loved this store. With half of his budget blown for essentials, Peter quickly cut his spending off and

He quickly gathered his stuff and went back to the apartment, using his strength a bit to lift the full cart up the stairs at the front doors and into the elevator. It creaked like the first time they used it to go see the apartment, but it worked. Peter set everything up in the living room, pillow and blanket wise, and put everything in its proper place. The lamp was put up, giving more light than the old bulb in the ceiling light.

All Peter wanted to do was pass out, but since his dumbass took in a child, he couldn’t sleep until this place was relatively fit for a kid to live in. He also wanted to wait for

So, that’s what he did. Taking a sponge and the cleaning supplies he’d picked up earlier, Peter tackled the living room, scrubbing away at old stains and spraying mildew. He marked trouble spots- like that splinter worthy piece of floor next to the doorway leading to the hall between the bedrooms. Then the kitchen. By the time Frank cautiously peeked his head in from the front door, Peter had already finished scrubbing the over.

“Hey.”

Peter turned, grime on his face but grinning. “Hey!” I bought some stuff!”

Frank snorted at his face before glancing around the living room, eyeing the cart parked neatly on the side.

“So you did. Didn’t get mugged, did ya?”

“Rude. No, of course not.”

Frank gave him a… frankly… unimpressed look and dumped his bag next to the pile of blankets and pillows Peter had piled onto the floor. Sue hi’, they didn’t have beds yet.

“Got somethin’ for ya,” Frank said neutrally before dragging in…

“A coffee table!” Peter bounced towards Frank, hugging him before lugging in the heavy wooden table in. “You’re the best! Where’d you find it?!”

The tension, anxiety about Peter’s reaction, in Frank’s shoulders relaxed and the kid grinned. “Alley. Some asshole just left it there for anyone to hit with their car so I took it.”

“Nice! We can eat on this!”

——

When they were getting ready for bed, Peter insisting on showers for both of them, Frank had reared up at the clothes Peter bought for him. Peter pretended like he didn’t see anything and shove a whole tube of toothpaste and a new toothbrush at him.

“Ew. Do I have to?” Frank asked, wrinkling his nose but taking the items anyways.

“Yeah.” Peter said seriously. Frank gave a moment to wonder why he was taking orders from an eight year old before shrugging. He could brush his teeth in exchange for a roof over his head, food, and clothes. It’s not even a fair trade, for Peter, anyways. Frank was enough of an alley rat to take advantage of that.

——

When Frank passed out, Peter couldn’t sleep. He’s exhausted, but he couldn’t sleep.

So he took his new camera and climbed the fire escape to the roof top.

An hour later, he met his first vigilante.

“Hey, kiddo. I’m gonna need you to back away from the edge.”

“Woah!” Peter startled, jolting slightly off of the ledge he was balanced on. He twisted around to see Red Robin, hand outstretched and panicked look in his eyes.

“Dude. Warn a guy!” Peter said, even though his spider sense warned him of an approaching person that was actively watching him.

Red Robin held his hands up. “My bad. Would you- uh, not be on that ledge?”

“Yeah, sure. My bad, bro.” Peter obligingly stood up and stepped away from the ledge. Red Robin relaxed then did a double take. Peter frowned. Is there something on his face?

“What are you doing up here, kiddo? It’s late.”

Peter decided to scope out the vigilante. “Couldn’t sleep,” he held up his camera. “I’m taking pictures.”

“Oh. That’s cool! Can I see?” Red Robin approached warily, but relaxed when Peter didn’t spook and try to take a shortcut to ground floor.

“Sure! It’s a new, well, not new but new to me, camera so I haven’t had all that time to mess with the specs but the pictures turned out pretty good-”

“Oh, woah. This one’s great. That composition? Amazing. You caught the light perfectly,” Red Robin complimented. Peter brightened, knowing a photography fan when he hears one.

“Photography buddy!” He cheered.

They talked for an hour after that, but Red Robin quickly sent him to bed once he remembered the time.

“Ah, shi- crap. It’s like 2AM. You’ve gotta go to bed.”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry if I interrupted your patrol, Mr. Red Robin!”

“No problem, kid.” Peter slipped back down the fire escape, not caring if the vigilante saw where he lived.

——

Up on the rooftop, Red Robin pressed a hand to his comm.

“Red Robin to Nightwing.”

“What’s up, Red?”

“Do you have a kid you don’t know about?” Tim said, bluntly.

“… What?”

“Oracle, can you share my cowl footage?”

“Copy. Oh, that kid…”

“Looks exactly like Wing?” Tim said, peering down at the empty fire escape. “Yeah. Talked like him too.”

“Oh my god, he’s adorable.” Oracle said. Tim agreed. That curly hair? Baby face? Adorable. A bean. “Did you get DNA?”

“Ah, shit, I knew I forgot something.”

“Do not break into his place and nab a hair,” Nightwing reprimanded, but his voice sounded distracted.

“Holy shit, you guys nerded out about camera placement and lighting for an hour?” Hood piped up.

“Get some rest, Red Robin. You’ve been working too hard,” Batman grunted through the comms. Awkward… but he’s been getting better at communicating his worry for his kids.

“Sure thing, B. Heading back to the main cave. Red Robin out.

——

Peter: lay low and get home

Also Peter: talks to a vigilante

None of them think Peter’s Nightwing’s yet. Peter will know before them… eventually. Once this world’s version of him gives up his memories to be absorbed by AU Peter.

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eyrieofsynapses · 9 months

Text

why Aurora's art is genius

It's break for me, and I've been meaning to sit down and read the Aurora webcomic (https://comicaurora.com/, @comicaurora on Tumblr) for quite a bit. So I did that over the last few days.

And… y'know. I can't actually say "I should've read this earlier," because otherwise I would've been up at 2:30-3am when I had responsibilities in the morning and I couldn't have properly enjoyed it, but. Holy shit guys THIS COMIC.

I intended to just do a generalized "hello this is all the things I love about this story," and I wrote a paragraph or two about art style. …and then another. And another. And I realized I needed to actually reference things so I would stop being too vague. I was reading the comic on my tablet or phone, because I wanted to stay curled up in my chair, but I type at a big monitor and so I saw more details… aaaaaand it turned into its own giant-ass post.

SO. Enjoy a few thousand words of me nerding out about this insanely cool art style and how fucking gorgeous this comic is? (There are screenshots, I promise it isn't just a wall of text.) In my defense, I just spent two semesters in graphic design classes focusing on the Adobe Suite, so… I get to be a nerd about pretty things…???

All positive feedback btw! No downers here. <3

---

I cannot emphasize enough how much I love the beautiful, simple stylistic method of drawing characters and figures. It is absolutely stunning and effortless and utterly graceful—it is so hard to capture the sheer beauty and fluidity of the human form in such a fashion. Even a simple outline of a character feels dynamic! It's gorgeous!

Though I do have a love-hate relationship with this, because my artistic side looks at that lovely simplicity, goes "I CAN DO THAT!" and then I sit down and go to the paper and realize that no, in fact, I cannot do that yet, because that simplicity is born of a hell of a lot of practice and understanding of bodies and actually is really hard to do. It's a very developed style that only looks simple because the artist knows what they're doing. The human body is hard to pull off, and this comic does so beautifully and makes it look effortless.

Also: line weight line weight line weight. It's especially important in simplified shapes and figures like this, and hoo boy is it used excellently. It's especially apparent the newer the pages get—I love watching that improvement over time—but with simpler figures and lines, you get nice light lines to emphasize both smaller details, like in the draping of clothing and the curls of hair—which, hello, yes—and thicker lines to emphasize bigger and more important details and silhouettes. It's the sort of thing that's essential to most illustrations, but I wanted to make a note of it because it's so vital to this art style.

THE USE OF LAYER BLENDING MODES OH MY GODS. (...uhhh, apologies to the people who don't know what that means, it's a digital art program thing? This article explains it for beginners.)

Bear with me, I just finished my second Photoshop course, I spent months and months working on projects with this shit so I see the genius use of Screen and/or its siblings (of which there are many—if I say "Screen" here, assume I mean the entire umbrella of Screen blending modes and possibly Overlay) and go nuts, but seriously it's so clever and also fucking gorgeous:

Firstly: the use of screened-on sound effect words over an action? A "CRACK" written over a branch and then put on Screen in glowy green so that it's subtle enough that it doesn't disrupt the visual flow, but still sticks out enough to make itself heard? Little "scritches" that are transparent where they're laid on without outlines to emphasize the sound without disrupting the underlying image? FUCK YES. I haven't seen this done literally anywhere else—granted, I haven't read a massive amount of comics, but I've read enough—and it is so clever and I adore it. Examples:

Secondly: The beautiful lighting effects. The curling leaves, all the magic, the various glowing eyes, the fog, the way it's all so vividly colored but doesn't burn your eyeballs out—a balance that's way harder to achieve than you'd think—and the soft glows around them, eeeee it's so pretty so pretty SO PRETTY. Not sure if some of these are Outer/Inner Glow/Shadow layer effects or if it's entirely hand-drawn, but major kudos either way; I can see the beautiful use of blending modes and I SALUTE YOUR GENIUS.

I keep looking at some of this stuff and go "is that a layer effect or is it done by hand?" Because you can make some similar things with the Satin layer effect in Photoshop (I don't know if other programs have this? I'm gonna have to find out since I won't have access to PS for much longer ;-;) that resembles some of the swirly inner bits on some of the lit effects, but I'm not sure if it is that or not. Or you could mask over textures? There's... many ways to do it.

If done by hand: oh my gods the patience, how. If done with layer effects: really clever work that knows how to stop said effects from looking wonky, because ugh those things get temperamental. If done with a layer of texture that's been masked over: very, very good masking work. No matter the method, pretty shimmers and swirly bits inside the bigger pretty swirls!

Next: The way color contrast is used! I will never be over the glowy green-on-black Primordial Life vibes when Alinua gets dropped into that… unconscious space?? with Life, for example, and the sharp contrast of vines and crack and branches and leaves against pitch black is just visually stunning. The way the roots sink into the ground and the three-dimensional sensation of it is particularly badass here:

Friggin. How does this imply depth like that. HOW. IT'S SO FREAKING COOL.

A huge point here is also color language and use! Everybody has their own particular shade, generally matching their eyes, magic, and personality, and I adore how this is used to make it clear who's talking or who's doing an action. That was especially apparent to me with Dainix and Falst in the caves—their colors are both fairly warm, but quite distinct, and I love how this clarifies who's doing what in panels with a lot of action from both of them. There is a particular bit that stuck out to me, so I dug up the panels (see this page and the following one https://comicaurora.com/aurora/1-20-30/):

(Gods it looks even prettier now that I put it against a plain background. Also, appreciation to Falst for managing a bridal-carry midair, damn.)

The way that their colors MERGE here! And the immense attention to detail in doing so—Dainix is higher up than Falst is in the first panel, so Dainix's orange fades into Falst's orange at the base. The next panel has gold up top and orange on bottom; we can't really tell in that panel where each of them are, but that's carried over to the next panel—

—where we now see that Falst's position is raised above Dainix's due to the way he's carrying him. (Points for continuity!) And, of course, we see the little "huffs" flowing from orange to yellow over their heads (where Dainix's head is higher than Falst's) to merge the sound of their breathing, which is absurdly clever because it emphasizes to the viewer how we hear two sets of huffing overlaying each other, not one. Absolutely brilliant.

(A few other notes of appreciation to that panel: beautiful glows around them, the sparks, the jagged silhouette of the spider legs, the lovely colors that have no right to make the area around a spider corpse that pretty, the excellent texturing on the cave walls plus perspective, the way Falst's movements imply Dainix's hefty weight, the natural posing of the characters, their on-point expressions that convey exactly how fuckin terrifying everything is right now, the slight glows to their eyes, and also they're just handsome boys <3)

Next up: Rain!!!! So well done! It's subtle enough that it never ever disrupts the impact of the focal point, but evident enough you can tell! And more importantly: THE MIST OFF THE CHARACTERS. Rain does this irl, it has that little vapor that comes off you and makes that little misty effect that plays with lighting, it's so cool-looking and here it's used to such pretty effect!

One of the panel captions says something about it blurring out all the injuries on the characters but like THAT AIN'T TOO BIG OF A PROBLEM when it gets across the environmental vibes, and also that'd be how it would look in real life too so like… outside viewer's angle is the same as the characters', mostly? my point is: that's the environment!!! that's the vibes, that's the feel! It gets it across and it does so in the most pretty way possible!

And another thing re: rain, the use of it to establish perspective, particularly in panels like this—

—where we can tell we're looking down at Tynan due to the perspective on the rain and where it's pointing. Excellent. (Also, kudos for looking down and emphasizing how Tynan's losing his advantage—lovely use of visual storytelling.)

Additionally, the misting here:

We see it most heavily in the leftmost panel, where it's quite foggy as you would expect in a rainstorm, especially in an environment with a lot of heat, but it's also lightly powdered on in the following two panels and tends to follow light sources, which makes complete sense given how light bounces off particles in the air.

A major point of strength in these too is a thorough understanding of lighting, like rim lighting, the various hues and shades, and an intricate understanding of how light bounces off surfaces even when they're in shadow (we'll see a faint glow in spots where characters are half in shadow, but that's how it would work in real life, because of how light bounces around).

Bringing some of these points together: the fluidity of the lines in magic, and the way simple glowing lines are used to emphasize motion and the magic itself, is deeply clever. I'm basically pulling at random from panels and there's definitely even better examples, but here's one (see this page https://comicaurora.com/aurora/1-16-33/):

First panel, listed in numbers because these build on each other:

The tension of the lines in Tess's magic here. This works on a couple levels: first, the way she's holding her fists, as if she's pulling a rope taut.

The way there's one primary line, emphasizing the rope feeling, accompanied by smaller ones.

The additional lines starbursting around her hands, to indicate the energy crackling in her hands and how she's doing a good bit more than just holding it. (That combined with the fists suggests some tension to the magic, too.) Also the variations in brightness, a feature you'll find in actual lightning. :D Additional kudos for how the lightning sparks and breaks off the metal of the sword.

A handful of miscellaneous notes on the second panel:

The reflection of the flames in Erin's typically dark blue eyes (which bears a remarkable resemblance to Dainix, incidentally—almost a thematic sort of parallel given Erin's using the same magic Dainix specializes in?)

The flowing of fabric in the wind and associated variation in the lineart

The way Erin's tattoos interact with the fire he's pulling to his hand

The way the rain overlays some of the fainter areas of fire (attention! to! detail! hell yeah!)

I could go on. I won't because this is a lot of writing already.

Third panel gets paragraphs, not bullets:

Erin's giant-ass "FWOOM" of fire there, and the way the outline of the word is puffy-edged and gradated to feel almost three-dimensional, plus once again using Screen or a variation on it so that the stars show up in the background. All this against that stunning plume of fire, which ripples and sparks so gorgeously, and the ending "om" of the onomatopoeia is emphasized incredibly brightly against that, adding to the punch of it and making the plume feel even brighter.

Also, once again, rain helping establish perspective, especially in how it's very angular in the left side of the panel and then slowly becomes more like a point to the right to indicate it's falling directly down on the viewer. Add in the bright, beautiful glow effects, fainter but no less important black lines beneath them to emphasize the sky and smoke and the like, and the stunningly beautiful lighting and gradated glows surrounding Erin plus the lightning jagging up at him from below, and you get one hell of an impactful panel right there. (And there is definitely more in there I could break down, this is just a lot already.)

And in general: The colors in this? Incredible. The blues and purples and oranges and golds compliment so well, and it's all so rich.

Like, seriously, just throughout the whole comic, the use of gradients, blending modes, color balance and hues, all the things, all the things, it makes for the most beautiful effects and glows and such a rich environment. There's a very distinct style to this comic in its simplified backgrounds (which I recognize are done partly because it's way easier and also backgrounds are so time-consuming dear gods but lemme say this) and vivid, smoothly drawn characters; the simplicity lets them come to the front and gives room for those beautiful, richly saturated focal points, letting the stylized designs of the magic and characters shine. The use of distinct silhouettes is insanely good. Honestly, complex backgrounds might run the risk of making everything too visually busy in this case. It's just, augh, so GORGEOUS.

Another bit, take a look at this page (https://comicaurora.com/aurora/1-15-28/):

It's not quite as evident here as it is in the next page, but this one does some other fun things so I'm grabbing it. Points:

Once again, using different colors to represent different character actions. The "WHAM" of Kendal hitting the ground is caused by Dainix's force, so it's orange (and kudos for doubling the word over to add a shake effect). But we see blue layered underneath, which could be an environmental choice, but might also be because it's Kendal, whose color is blue.

And speaking off, take a look at the right-most panel on top, where Kendal grabs the spear: his motion is, again, illustrated in bright blue, versus the atmospheric screened-on orange lines that point toward him around the whole panel (I'm sure these have a name, I think they might be more of a manga thing though and the only experience I have in manga is reading a bit of Fullmetal Alchemist). Those lines emphasize the weight of the spear being shoved at him, and their color tells us Dainix is responsible for it.

One of my all-time favorite effects in this comic is the way cracks manifest across Dainix's body to represent when he starts to lose control; it is utterly gorgeous and wonderfully thematic. These are more evident in the page before and after this one, but you get a decent idea here. I love the way they glow softly, the way the fire juuuust flickers through at the start and then becomes more evident over time, and the cracks feel so realistic, like his skin is made of pottery. Additional points for how fire begins to creep into his hair.

A small detail that's generally consistent across the comic, but which I want to make note of here because you can see it pretty well: Kendal's eyes glow about the same as the jewel in his sword, mirroring his connection to said sword and calling back to how the jewel became Vash's eye temporarily and thus was once Kendal's eye. You can always see this connection (though there might be some spots where this also changes in a symbolic manner; I went through it quickly on the first time around, so I'll pay more attention when I inevitably reread this), where Kendal's always got that little shine of blue in his eyes the same as the jewel. It's a beautiful visual parallel that encourages the reader to subconsciously link them together, especially since the lines used to illustrate character movements typically mirror their eye color. It's an extension of Kendal.

Did I mention how ABSOLUTELY BEAUTIFUL the colors in this are?

Also, the mythological/legend-type scenes are illustrated in familiar style often used for that type of story, a simple and heavily symbolic two-dimensional cave-painting-like look. They are absolutely beautiful on many levels, employing simple, lovely gradients, slightly rougher and thicker lineart that is nonetheless smoothly beautiful, and working with clear silhouettes (a major strength of this art style, but also a strength in the comic overall). But in particular, I wanted to call attention to a particular thing (see this page https://comicaurora.com/aurora/1-12-4/):

The flowing symbolic lineart surrounding each character. This is actually quite consistent across characters—see also Life's typical lines and how they curl:

What's particularly interesting here is how these symbols are often similar, but not the same. Vash's lines are always smooth, clean curls, often playing off each other and echoing one another like ripples in a pond. You'd think they'd look too similar to Life's—but they don't. Life's curl like vines, and they remain connected; where one curve might echo another but exist entirely detached from each other in Vash's, Life's lines still remain wound together, because vines are continuous and don't float around. :P

Tahraim's are less continuous, often breaking up with significantly smaller bits and pieces floating around like—of course—sparks, and come to sharper points. These are also constants: we see the vines repeated over and over in Alinua's dreams of Life, and the echoing ripples of Vash are consistent wherever we encounter him. Kendal's dream of the ghost citizens of the city of Vash in the last few chapters is filled with these rippling, echoing patterns, to beautiful effect (https://comicaurora.com/aurora/1-20-14/):

They ripple and spiral, often in long, sinuous curves, with smooth elegance. It reminds me a great deal of images of space and sine waves and the like. This establishes a definite feel to these different characters and their magic. And the thing is, that's not something that had to be done—the colors are good at emphasizing who's who. But it was done, and it adds a whole other dimension to the story. Whenever you're in a deity's domain, you know whose it is no matter the color.

Regarding that shape language, I wanted to make another note, too—Vash is sometimes described as chaotic and doing what he likes, which is interesting to me, because smooth, elegant curves and the color blue aren't generally associated with chaos. So while Vash might behave like that on the surface, I'm guessing he's got a lot more going on underneath; he's probably much more intentional in his actions than you'd think at a glance, and he is certainly quite caring with his city. The other thing is that this suits Kendal perfectly. He's a paragon character; he is kind, virtuous, and self-sacrificing, and often we see him aiming to calm others and keep them safe. Blue is such a good color for him. There is… probably more to this, but I'm not deep enough in yet to say.

And here's the thing: I'm only scratching the surface. There is so much more here I'm not covering (color palettes! outfits! character design! environment! the deities! so much more!) and a lot more I can't cover, because I don't have the experience; this is me as a hobbyist artist who happened to take a couple design classes because I wanted to. The art style to this comic is so clever and creative and beautiful, though, I just had to go off about it. <3

...brownie points for getting all the way down here? Have a cookie.

#aurora comic #aurora webcomic #comicaurora #art analysis #...I hope those are the right tags???#new fandom new tagging practices to learn ig #much thanks for something to read while I try to rest my wrists. carpal tunnel BAD. (ignore that I wrote this I've got braces ok it's fine)#anyway! I HAVE. MANY MORE THOUGHTS. ON THE STORY ITSELF. THIS LOVELY STORY #also a collection of reactions to a chunk of the comic before I hit the point where I was too busy reading to write anything down #idk how to format those tho #...yeet them into one post...???#eh I usually don't go off this much these days but this seems like a smaller tight-knit fandom so... might as well help build it?#and I have a little more time thanks to break so #oh yes also shoutout to my insanely awesome professor for teaching me all the technical stuff from this he is LOVELY #made an incredibly complex program into something comprehensible <3 #synapse talks

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wholoveseggs · 4 months

Note

Hey lovely, today request from me🥰

I got struck on an idea where reader tried to dominate Elijah but always fail so, she get Klaus help with some magical witchy rope or something to subdue him, which was successful.

Tho here's the thing, reader is inexperienced in doing something like that and not prepped enough to take him, cuz y'know Elijah is big.. hehehe😌🤭so she started tear up, and ask for his help. Elijah being a smug he is punish her happily after...can you added a sprinkle of daddy kink and overstimulation, pretty puh-lease with the cherry on top🙏🥺

Oh btw your story always superb 🤩 😁

Bindings

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

You ask Davina for help with creating something to tie up Elijah... only for you to get in way over your head. Luckily, he is in a forgiving mood.

♡♡ Thanks for the request anon! I decided to change it from Klaus to Davina, because I just can't see Klaus being okay with you essentially making a weapon against his family... Even if the reason behind it is just for some kinky fun ♡♡

4.9k words - Warnings: smut, *magical* bondage, dom!elijah, daddy!kink, spanking, choking, sex toys and a whole lotta praise...

You sat in Davina's greenhouse, looking around at all the various plants and flowers the young witch had collected. You had asked Davina to meet up with you to help with a problem, one that was a bit awkward to even say out loud, but you knew that she of all people would understand.

You watched her browse through her books, trying to find the spell you had requested. After a few moments, Davina had found the page and started gathering the items needed.

"Davina?" you said.

She looked up from the table and gave you a curious look. "Yeah?"

"You don't think this is a little crazy? I mean, it's a bit of a long shot."

Davina smiled. "Not at all. I may have.... tried it myself... with Kol," she replied, looking away with a light blush.

Your eyes went wide. "Oh, my God. It worked?"

She shrugged trying to appear cool, but her mischievous grin gave away her answer. You smiled back and the two of you quickly dissolved into a fit of giggles.

After the laughter had calmed down, you looked at her questioningly. "So, how does it work?"

Davina took a seat on the couch next to you and showed you the spell she had found.

"The basic binding is actually quite simple, it's the ingredients that are tricky," she explained, "luckily I have white oak ash, and the rest should be easy to find."

You nodded and listened intently as Davina read through the list of ingredients and their uses. She began by grinding the herbs and mixing them in a bowl, followed by the white oak ash.

Once the mixture was complete, Davina took a long silk rope that you had provided and dipped it in the bowl. She held the rope above the bowl, letting the excess liquid drip off as she chanted the incantation.

"Done," Davina announced, handing you the now-dry rope. "It will keep him bound and unable to break free. You can use it any way you'd like." She grinned, giving you a knowing look.

You couldn't believe how easy it had been, that you were so close to fulfilling a long-held fantasy of yours. "Thank you, Davina. You're the best," you said, pulling her into a hug.

She hugged you back, giggling as she pulled away. "One more thing, if you need to break the spell, just say 'confractus' and it will untie itself,"

You nodded, thanking her again before making your way home, the rope clutched tightly in your hand.

It was the most expensive piece of clothing you had ever purchased. It wasn't even something you could wear outside your bedroom, but damn, did it make you feel sexy.

The lingerie was a red, sheer babydoll dress with black lace trim, and it was paired with a matching thong and stockings. You had never worn anything so revealing before, but you knew Elijah would like it, and that was all that mattered.

You wanted to get him all worked up, break down the gentleman facade, make him want you so badly that he would do whatever you asked. You had been waiting for the right moment to try the rope Davina had created, and you were certain that tonight was the night.

You pulled a robe over your outfit, concealing it until the right moment. Then you sat back on your bed and texted Elijah.

"Are you free tonight?"

A few moments later, your phone vibrated.

"For you, always."

You grinned and quickly replied, "Come over."

He sent a thumbs up, and you tossed your phone aside, your nerves kept you from sitting still, and you spent the next ten minutes pacing anxiously around the room. When you finally heard a knock on the door, you jumped, startled by the sound. You took a deep breath and walked to the front of your apartment.

When you opened the door, you were greeted by a sight that made your mouth water. Elijah was dressed casually, in just a t-shirt and jeans, it was a rare sight, and one that had you practically drooling.

You stood there in silence for a moment, taking in the sight of him, until he cleared his throat and asked, "Can I come in?"

"Yes, sorry. Come in." You stepped aside, gesturing for him to enter.

As soon as he crossed the threshold, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. You let yourself melt into him, enjoying the feeling of his arms wrapped around you.

"What's this for?" You asked, teasingly tugging on his t-shirt, your hands roaming across his broad chest. "Has your dry-cleaner gone and quit on you?"

He chuckled and shook his head. "I figured we would just have a quiet night in. No need for the formalities."

You nodded, your hands traveling down to his waist. You felt his body tense slightly when your fingers began to dance along the bare skin under the hem of his shirt.

"Well, I have a surprise for you," you said, looking up at him with a mischievous smile.

He raised an eyebrow and gave you a curious look. "A surprise? Well, now I'm intrigued."

You laughed and grabbed his hand, leading him to your bedroom. Once inside, you turned and faced him, taking a deep breath before you began to untie your robe. But then you stopped, looking at him with a naughty smirk.

"Take off your shirt," you ordered, your voice suddenly more confident.

He looked surprised by your words, but quickly obliged, pulling the t-shirt over his head and tossing it aside.

"Hmmm," you smiled as your eyes traveled down his body, appreciating his toned abs and muscular arms, lingering on where a trail of dark hair disappeared into his jeans. "Now the pants."

You watched as his hands moved to unbutton his jeans. He kept his gaze locked on you, his dark eyes filled with lust. Once the pants were undone, he slowly pushed them down, revealing his black boxer briefs and the outline of his half-hard cock.

Your mouth watered at the sight, but you knew this was just the beginning. As much as you wanted to rip his clothes off and fuck him senseless, you had a plan, and you were determined to stick to it.

"Get on the bed," you commanded, gesturing to the large mattress behind him.

He climbed onto the bed, sitting back against the pillows and watching you with curiosity. You untied the belt of your robe and let it fall open, revealing the sheer lingerie underneath.

Elijah's jaw dropped, his eyes widening as they traveled over your body.

"Do you like it?" You asked, teasingly running a finger along the edge of the lace trim.

He nodded, unable to speak, his cock already fully hard and straining against his underwear.

"Good, because I want you to do something for me," you said, your voice low and husky.

He nodded again, his gaze fixed on you.

"Take off your underwear and stroke your cock."

You watched him pull his boxer briefs down and wrap his large hand around his thick shaft, slowly stroking himself.

The sight of him pleasuring himself made your own arousal grow. You let your robe drop to the floor and climbed onto the bed, straddling his thighs.

He groaned, his eyes never leaving your body as he continued stroking his cock.

"Darling, you are a vision," he breathed, his voice deep and raspy with desire.

You felt heat pooling between your legs, your nipples hardening beneath the thin fabric of your lingerie.

You leaned in and kissed him, your tongues battling for dominance as you moaned into his mouth. His other hand came up to grab your ass, pulling you closer.

He was breathing heavily, his eyes dark with lust.

"Touch yourself," he growled, his lips brushing against yours.

"No," you smirked, "I have something else in mind."

You reached over and picked up the rope, which you had placed within reach on the nightstand. You watched his eyes widen, his hand stopping its movements as he stared at the rope.

"Do you want me to tie you up?" He grinned, his hand starting to stroke his cock again.

"I have something else in mind," you repeated.

Elijah raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued.

"Hands up," you commanded, leaning back slightly to give him space.

He paused for a moment before lifting his arms above his head, resting them on the pillow behind him.

You brought the rope over his wrists, looping it around and tying them together. He chuckled, his eyes darkening as he realized what you were doing.

"I never took you for a bondage girl, darling."

"There's a lot of things you don't know about me," you replied, your tone playful as you pulled the rope tighter.

"Unfortunately I don't think this silk rope will hold me," he said, smirking as he tugged at the restraints.

You ignored him, continuing to tie his wrists to the headboard. Once you were satisfied with the knots, you sat back and admired your work, enjoying the way he looked helpless and at your mercy.

"Oh yeah?" You questioned, trailing a finger down his chest and abs, watching him shiver.

You slowly shrugged off one of the straps of your babydoll, letting the top slide down, exposing one breast.

His eyes fixated on your bare chest, his tongue darting out to lick his lips.

"Mmmm," you hummed, rolling the hard bud between your fingers, teasing him. Then you did the same with the other strap, pushing the top down until your breasts were completely exposed.

Elijah let out a low moan, his cock twitching against his stomach.

"God, you're so fucking beautiful," he growled, his eyes burning with desire.

"Do you want to touch them daddy?" You cooed, running your hands up and down your breasts.

"Yes," he hissed, his hips bucking up involuntarily.

"Go ahead, tear the rope and touch me."

"Gladly."

He tugged at the rope, once, twice, three times. It didn't budge, much to his surprise.

"How the..." he started to say, looking up at the knotted rope.

"It's just a bit of magic," you smirked, your confidence growing as you watched him struggle.

You knew the ropes wouldn't hold him forever, but you planned on making the most of the time they did.

"Now, where were we?" You leaned forward, bringing your breasts close to his face.

He craned his neck up, trying to capture one of your nipples with his mouth, but you pulled away, denying him.

"Uh uh," you scolded, "You can look, but no touching."

You moved forward again, brushing your breast against his lips. He eagerly opened his mouth, trying to suck on the hardened peak, but you kept it just out of reach.

"I will be free soon enough, little one," he growled, his eyes locking onto yours, "and when I am, you're going to be punished for teasing me."

His words sent a thrill through you, but you remained calm, refusing to show him any signs of weakness.

"Oh yeah? What are you going to do, daddy?" You asked, taunting him as you rolled your hips, your wetness coating his skin.

He groaned at the sensation, his dark, lust-filled eyes watched as you began to touch his body, teasing and tormenting him.

You raked your nails down his chest and abs, earning a hiss of pleasure. You licked a hot stripe up his neck, biting his earlobe before moving to his lips. You kissed him roughly, your teeth grazing his lower lip, and he moaned, deepening the kiss.

Your hand went to his cock, stroking it slowly as he tried to buck his hips into your touch. You pulled back, smirking at him.

"You're not going to come until I say you can, understood?"

"Yes, my dear," he breathed, his eyes closing in pleasure as you tightened your grip on his shaft.

"Good boy."

You kissed him again, your tongues dancing together as you pumped his cock. He moaned into your mouth, his hips thrusting upwards, desperate for release.

You broke the kiss, looking down at him with a smirk. You couldn't wait any longer, you had to have him.

You positioned yourself over his throbbing member, lining him up with your entrance. You felt a flash of nervousness, not knowing how well you would be able to take him, but the excitement overrode the anxiety.

You lowered yourself down slowly, his thick cock stretching you open, filling you inch by inch.

"Fuck, Elijah," you moaned, burying your face into the crook of his neck, the feeling of him buried so deep, making your legs shake.

He hummed, his biceps straining against the rope as he struggled to break free. You placed your hands on his chest, using him as leverage as you began to ride him.

You knew right away that you were in trouble. Usually Elijah would take the lead, getting you all wet and worked up, he always took his time, and the pleasure he brought was slow and delicious.

But this, being on top and having all the control, was something you hadn't experienced before. It was intense, and you weren't sure if you could handle it.

Your thighs were burning as you lifted yourself up and down, but you were determined to keep going. Your eyes met his and the sight of his pupils blown wide with desire was enough encouragement for you to continue.

You rode him faster, your breath coming in short gasps. You were getting close, so close, but it was somehow all too much and not enough. You didn't think it would be this much work, and you could feel your energy waning.

It was a terrible feeling, finally getting what you wanted and being disappointed by it. You had been so confident, but now your thighs were burning and you were struggling to keep up a steady rhythm.

You looked at the ropes, seeing that they were still secure. There was no way you would be able to finish this yourself. You were going to need help.

"Eli," you whimpered, your nails digging into his chest.

"Yes, my dear," he groaned.

"I-I'm not sure... If I can keep going," you admitted, panting as you struggled to continue, a frustrated tear rolling down your cheek.

"Well, I'm still quite enjoying myself. You look absolutely exquisite like this," he teased, his eyes roaming your body.

"Elijah," you whined, "please. I-I can't."

He gave you a knowing smirk. "If you can't keep up, maybe I should be the one in charge."

"Please," you begged, your face flushing as the humiliation of being denied what you wanted so badly washed over you.

"You created this problem for yourself, little one," he reminded, "but luckily, I'm in a giving mood."

You nodded, grateful that he was willing to help you, even if he did enjoy teasing you about it. You reached up and undid the knots, releasing his hands from their restraints.

As soon as his hands were free, Elijah gripped your hips, flipping you over so he was on top. You yelped in surprise, the sudden change in position leaving you breathless.

"You are such a good girl," he praised, his voice husky with desire. "So eager to please."

He kissed you hungrily, his hands exploring your body, his fingers tugging at the hem of your lingerie.

"And this," he murmured against your lips, "is very pretty. But I'm afraid I'm going to have to tear it."

Before you could protest, he ripped the babydoll in half, exposing your entire body to him. He tossed the torn fabric aside, his dark eyes roaming your naked form.

"But it was expensive," you half-protested, even though you were throbbing at the gesture of dominance and disregard.

He growled and pinched your nipple, earning a sharp gasp, then he soothed it with a swirl of his tongue, a wicked glint in his eyes.

"How much did that little magical rope cost you?"

You shuddered, already realizing this was the price you had to pay. You knew he would punish you for this stunt and it turned you on more.

"N-nothing, it was a favor from a friend," you muttered.

He didn't like the vagueness of your answer and took the rope and tied it around your wrists as he started kissing you again, your tongue clashing with his, while his large hand roamed your body, tweaking your nipples, earning a soft moan, and then traveling down south, running his fingertips along your skin, teasing and tickling you softly.

"You are going to do exactly as I say now, understood?" he mumbled against your skin.

"Y-Yes, Daddy," you whined, already desperately bucking against his hand.

Elijah released you, flipping you onto your stomach and dragging you to the head of the bed, tying the rope to the headboard so your arms are stretched high over your head. You were on your knees, and completely under his power.

You heard him rummaging around in his dresser and your heart began beating quickly from nervousness and excitement.

He kissed the back of your neck, the heat of his body warming you, and causing goosebumps to cover your skin. The smell of his cologne wrapped around you and you instinctively arched into his embrace.

"My sweet pet, are you ready to be punished?" he asked as he held one of his ties in front of your face, "Do you have a safe word?"

Your mind raced as he put the tie over your eyes. You quickly selected a word, just in case you needed it, though you sincerely doubted that would happen. Even when he was dominant like this, he always put your pleasure first, but you wanted him to believe you were scared.

"Coffee."

"Excellent," he replied as the smooth fabric was tied tightly around your head.

You tried to lean forward but couldn't move an inch with the rope around your wrists. This rope has successfully restrained Elijah, there was no way you were getting free until he cut you loose.

"I must say… that magic rope is quite a dangerous weapon, a threat to my family." He whispered against your ear, a hint of danger in his voice, sending an excited tingle through you.

You suddenly felt his strong hand wrap tightly around your neck. He wasn't squeezing yet but he was definitely letting you know who's in charge.

"You and I both know how I handle threats to my family," he said, pressing a kiss against your neck.

A moan escaped your lips and you could hear him chuckle. You were so wound up, you weren't sure how long you could take this.

"Stay quiet," Elijah commanded.

As if in punishment, he withdrew his hand from your throat, and you almost immediately missed the feeling of his warm hand against you. A sudden slap to your ass made your body jolt.

It burned from the force of it, his large, powerful palm practically covering your entire cheek. Every sensation was heightened by the tie around your eyes and you felt your whole body heating up, your blood rushing in anticipation of what was to come.

He hit you again, on the same cheek, harder than the last time. The sound of his hand hitting your flesh seemed to fill the room. Tears pooled in your covered eyes, the burning sensation making your body hum in pleasure, mixed with a bit of pain.

You weren't sure if you could handle one more of his heavy-handed swats. Your arms hurt from being pulled high above your head, and your wrists were already chafing.

You heard him reach into your night stand, searching for something that would bring you a different kind of pain. He found what he was looking for, trailing it down your spine. It was cold and smooth, and it made your stomach drop when you realized what it was.

"Eli- wait," you protested, none of this night was going to plan, but this? You had fantasized about it, sure, but this was-

Your mind went blank when he pushed it inside you, and without mercy, he switched it on. It buzzed to life and the sudden onslaught of the vibrations made your legs shake uncontrollably, your wrists burning slightly as you pulled on them.

It was like you were filled with electricity. And the noises you were making? They were a mix of moans and pleas for release, your body already nearing its limit.

His hand was gone, no more spanking and yet- the buzzing didn't stop, you had no release in sight and that's when you realized your mistake. He wasn't going to let you finish, the intention to drive you near your peak only to take you back down.

It was torture.

And you were absolutely loving it.

The minutes seem to tick by, maybe hours. Who knows anymore. All you're aware of is your trembling thighs, sweat glistening your back and your voice, cracking slightly as you scream and moan, writhing at the touch of his hand, then the hard buzzing once again.

"Hmm, we've never tried this setting before," he mused.

"Please Eli-"

He increased the intensity, a loud buzz echoing the room, and a series of vulgar curses escaping your lips, making him laugh.

The vibrator inside you was now pulsing at a rapid pace, the pleasure blinding, building, and there's nothing you can do to prevent the inevitable.

"Don't you dare come," he ordered.

"I can't-" you began, already starting to crumble under his control.

He gave the end of the vibrator a small twist and it hit a new spot that was pure euphoria. You tried to hold on, but it was impossible, your vision went white as an orgasm rocked through you, stealing your breath away, and all of the pent up tension that was burning in the depths of your core.

You let out an ecstasy-laced scream, every fiber in you igniting, every nerve firing at once as an immense surge of pleasure washed through your trembling body, shaking you to the core.

In that moment there was only bliss. The kind of sweet bliss that washes over your exhausted form, turning your limbs to rubber and melting your insides.

Your wrists ached, and you expected Elijah to untie you, but he had gone perfectly still behind you. Your heart began to race, suddenly filled with worry about whether he had become angered by your release. You honestly couldn't undergo another round of his erotic torture and live through it.

The silence and inaction was far worse than any punishment and you felt fear creep up your neck. Suddenly the vibrator turned back on at the max setting and his hand came down hard on your ass once again, leaving it stinging and burning, and tears brimming your lids, even as your body reacted with arousal.

You weren't even sure if your wrists could survive another round and it didn't help that the orgasm had made you sensitive to the point of numbness, but you can already feel your legs shaking, threatening to buckle underneath your exhausted form.

"Daddy, please I can't. I'll pass-" you started, the warning cut off with another slap.

You couldn't do it anymore, your wrists hurt more than the spanking. You remembered Davina had said that the rope could be undone with one word from you. Just as another spank was about to rain down, you rasped out 'confractus' and the rope fell off your wrists. You didn't waste a second, the moment you felt your hands free, you were tugging the blindfold down and pulling the vibrator out of you, tossing it across the bed and collapsing.

Elijah looked a bit shocked by your sudden escape, but that didn't stop him. With you no longer held in the bindings, he took it as another reason to keep punishing you and he grabbed your hips and pulled you underneath him.

His eyes were hard and wild, almost black, and his lips were curled up in a delicious smirk as he locked eyes with yours. The blindfold was held tight against your neck with one hand, keeping the pressure just enough to cause slight discomfort.

But then his eyes flicked to your wrists and the damage that had been done. The burns were deep, almost red and his demeanor changed instantly. His expression went soft, filled with remorse, but his dark, lust-filled eyes didn't change, still heated and primal, and needing release.

"I sometimes forget how delicate you are," he said softly, taking one of your wrists into his hand and giving a gentle kiss.

You flinched a little from the sting of it, watching his apology fill his eyes. You knew his guilt and self loathing was about to start, but before he could pull away, you reached up and grabbed the back of his neck and smashed your lips against his.

"I love when you get like this Eli," you admitted as the kiss broke, "Punishing me, fucking me, owning me. So don't start beating yourself up."

His response was an immediate hot sigh against your lips, relieved that he didn't hurt you.

"You do like the attention, do you?" he teased lightly, nuzzling your nose.

You nod, giving another kiss to the tip of his nose. "Always, but can you make this punishment worth it? It better end in a long, hot shower together or I might pass out," you whispered with a cheeky smile.

His shoulders shook from a silent laugh and his arms moved to either side of your face, caging you in with his warm presence, and you couldn't help the blush that spread through your cheeks as the emotion on his face flickered between the self-hating Elijah to the sweet one that you were in love with.

He ran his hand down your leg, then he lifted your thigh and held it against his hip and slowly, gently eased himself inside you. His lips were inches from and you couldn't look away. His eyes had softened now, and your heart melted at the devotion in them, only meant for you.

He slid his hand to the back of your neck as you clung to his shoulder, meeting him thrust for thrust as the pace gradually quickened. Your toes curled as waves of pleasure washed over you, but you held on this time, waiting for his permission, wanting to find release together.

His lips caressed your neck, his breathing ragged, and his movements became more erratic as his own control began to slip. The low, animalistic sounds rumbling in his chest nearly set you off, but somehow you managed to hang on.

Your mind is a fog, filled with everything Elijah; his smell, his warmth, the feeling of his skin against yours, the sound of his heavy breath, his low voice in your ear, his hips moving in a perfect tempo. It was overwhelming, dizzying, and intoxicating. You weren't sure how much longer you could hold out, especially with the way he was whispering your name like a prayer.

Your legs began to tremble again, Elijah knew you were close, and you were being so good for him. He could see the effort your restraint required in the furrow of your brow and the desperation in your eyes, he saw it in the twitching of your fingers and he felt the small spams from the place the two of you are joined.

"You've been such a good girl, come for me sweetheart," he cooed, nipping at your ear.

You closed your eyes and threw your head back. It felt like the earth beneath you cracked open and molten pleasure coursed through your veins, pouring into every cell and nerve, bathing you in absolute bliss.

Elijah kept rocking, dragging out your orgasm and making his own release finally explode throughout every part of him. As the both of you shook from pleasure, he didn't stop kissing you, kissing your cheeks, neck, and nose as the both of you tried to calm down. You clung to his biceps, relishing his touch, trying to calm down your raging heartbeat.

He released you and flipped onto his back, tugging you along, and making sure that you stayed close. You cuddled into his side, giving his chest small, gentle kisses.

He took your wrist, seeing the faint redness where the rope had burned your skin and gave it another tender kiss.

"Don't tell Klaus about the rope, he would not be very pleased to know you and Davina are making weapons behind his back, love."

You snorted and placed a soft kiss on his cheek, "how did you know it was Davina?"

He chuckled and rested his chin on the top of your head.

"Call it an educated guess," he teased and his hand playfully smacked your butt.

You both gave out a little chuckle before falling back into a comfortable silence. Your body had officially given out on you and exhaustion had taken over your form.

Elijah lifted you up out of bed and brought you to the shower, making sure that you were clean of any sticky sweat or traces of what had gone down moments ago. He wrapped his strong arms around you once you were dressed and both cleaned, bringing the covers around both of your bodies before kissing your forehead, and drifting off to sleep, holding you possessively against him.

This night didn't go as you planned, but you did not regret a thing.

♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡

♡ @gorgeouslydangerous ♡ @starkleila ♡ @lydia1369sworld ♡ @notleylaaa ♡ @vampiresluv ♡ @myanmy ♡ @xflowerbombxo ♡ @maryvibess ♡ @always-and-forever-daydreaming ♡ @criminallminds ♡ @theesexystallion ♡ @rosemarypotion ♡ @spnaquakindgdom ♡ @amournoir ♡ @loving-and-dreaming ♡

♡ @meeom ♡ @damienmorton ♡ @wickedmuse ♡ @sunkissedebony97 ♡ @idk00sblog ♡ @savannaounana♡ @cs-please ♡ complicatedandconfusing-25 ♡ @hamiltimes ♡ @akala6670229 ♡ @yeaiamme2 ♡ @itsjulzandmydiamonds ♡ @spideysbabe ♡ @witch-of-letters ♡ @elijahstwink ♡ @rosecentury ♡ @sekaishell ♡ @ziayamikaelson ♡ @amanda08319 ♡ @starshipcookie

Also! If you wish to be removed from the tag list just send me a dm, you won't hurt my feelings (it's okay if you got sick of me ~lol) I don't wish to hold you hostage ♡

I've gotten a few dm's about my tags not working (yay) so let me know if its still a problem, I just re-tagged all of you so hopefully that solved it ♡

(It may be the hearts causing the issue but I don't want that to be true, so I am in denial)

#elijah mikaelson #the originals #the vampire diaries #vampire diaries #tvdu #davina claire #elijah mikaelson smut #elijah mikaelson imagine #elijah mikealson imagine #elijah mikealson #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikealson x reader #tvd #the vampire diaries x you #the vampire diaries x reader #the vampire diares imagine #the vampire diaries imagine #the originals imagine #smut

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psychedelicriot · 2 months

Text

MONSTER X MEDIATOR Walkthrough: Red Room 001/NauseAxe_404/Your Biggest Fan

Hi, got this game DL'd just yesterday, and I'm defo frustrated since I want to see some walkthroughs ;-; Here we go, I guess? Note that this is how I got the ending through my way, pretty sure that there could've been any other way, but this is how I got mine! This would include commentaries on the ending, you might wanna skip if you don't care.

This game is still on progress, so far I've done both walkthroughs for both rooms!

TW/CW: This game contains questionable theme, bloods, explicit description of gore, and sexual assault on this route.

WILL BE UPDATED IF THE CREATOR MAKE ANOTHER UPDATE ON THE GAME! <3

If you'd like to, you can check other routes walkthrough here! Purple Room 004

For even getting to Room 001, you should know that you shouldn't run away with the money, but just enter the hotel.

Bad Ending: Overstimulated

OH MY GOD! I HAVE A FAN!!!

That's it. You're ded. This ending is basically him just being overstimulated by his emotions, even tho he already held onto his axe, therefore he lost it and just slam the axe up to your face, sha-zam. This ending could also be achieved through this:

I have a fan...?

Promise you'll write again if he leaves his room

Yes/No would still bring you back to the same route.

Why are you holding back?

Why would you die?

I do.

Bad Ending: Grape

I have a fan...?

Promise you'll write again if he leaves his room.

Yes/No would stil bring you back to the same route.

Why are you holding back? / I'll go write the story now

Why would you die?

I don't. And I'm not scared either.

That's not fear

1-I'm thrilled.

Touch him.

The ending title itself is pretty self-explanatory, but basically you just fangirl over him too much, he can't take it and he just decided to break your ribcage, slam his axe onto you, then grape you.

Bad Ending: Two Broken People

I have a fan...?

Promise you'll write again if he leaves his room

Yes/No would still bring you back to the same route.

Why are you holding back?

Why would you die?

I don't. I'm just scared.

Let's settle on...10 pages?

I can't.

Fuck you

You would love this one if you're interested in him calling you a... bitch... (Shame on you). Basically, he would degrade you, you'll degrade him back, and he actually liked it. It's hot and spicy, until you actually spit on him and say something like how he's broken beyond repair. You'll shame him for that, and FUCK THIS ROUTE IS SO AnGSTY. He'll sob while breaking you, claiming he actually knows that he's broken beyond repair, but he wants to pretend that there is any hope. sobs. Then you got what you deserve!!!! You're broken too!!!!

RED ROOM 001: PERSUASION SUCCESSFUL (1)

I have a fan...?

Promise you'll write again if he leaves his room

Yes/No would still bring you back to the same route.

Why are you holding back? / I'll go write the story now

Why would you die? / I'll go write the story now

I don't. I'm just scared.

Write the 100 pages

(You could fuck around by saying you're unable to, but remember that you need to concede at the end by saying Okay fine. Don't curse him.)

Yay, basically it's not the ending, you still need to handle the other rooms (if you haven't). Though, you basically managed to coerce him to leave the room. And you'll get his information sheet afterwards!

RED ROOM 001: PERSUASION SUCCESSFUL (2)

I have a fan...?

Promise you'll write again if he leaves his room

Yes/No would still bring you back to the same route.

Why are you holding back?

Why would you die?

I do.

That's not fear

I'm thrilled.

Leverage your safety.

You basically gaslight him into k1lling you, telling him to just banish you from existence, yadda yadda. To the point where he couldn't even be near you, so you ask him to leave.

RED ROOM 001: PERSUASION SUCCESSFUL (3)

I have a fan...?

Find out why he doesn't want to leave his room.

Yes/No would still bring you back to the same route.

Why else aren't you leaving your room? / Who's paying me to do this? (You can choose both option and would still come back to the same options-choosing)

What exactly are you?

Say please until he leaves his room. / Say it would be sooooo attractive if he left his room.

Both last option leads into the same result, but you might need to do more begging with the first one, it's cute and fun though!

#monster x mediator #room 001 #nauseaxe 404 #your biggest fan #nauseaxe_404 #monsterxmediator #walkthrough

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nychta-luxury · 2 years

Text

A Strange God

Gen Z reader

soft au - reader is an adult -

Warning: Not proofread, dark jokes, mostly comedy rather then serious, swearing.

-------------------------------------------

You were sitting in you're room playing genshin, doing your usual things like commissions, Tea pot, exploration, farming.

Until something strange happened your device wasn't responding. I don't mean the screen froze oh no no. You can still move your mouse however the game itself is moving on its own

"Oh hell naw I didn't sign up for this demonic shit. " You say as you back away from the device. Your main is still moving and the worst part is, its not even part of any idle animation or something you have seen before. You don't care if it's a hacker or some possession shit, EITHER ONE IS BAD

Then it hits you, you starting to get light headed, vision becoming blurry, you start on panicking. What the hell was wrong with your body just when you were about to reach for a phone you black out.

You are now concouice though haven't opened your eyes yet, it feels... Very peaceful your not sure why.. The birds are singing, the smell of flowers in the air, the grass on the ground

"THE GRASS ON THE GROUND?!" You instantly opened your eyes.

"Why is this grass brighter than my future." You say as you look at the neon like grass "Did people kidnap me to touch grass like a normal human being?" Look as much as unbelievable that suggestion was, you have been told to randomly touch grass more than your salary combined.

"You know what fuck it, it's like-" You look at the sky "I'm going to pretend I know what the time is, however I can say it's too early to care." You lay back down, ah how peaceful. Too peaceful, but who cares you can pretend to be in some anime and lay down at the grass.

"AHHH IS THAT A FUCKING BUG" You instantly sat up from the ground, honestly what were you thinking

"GET THE HELL AWAY SATAN SPAWN."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Okay now that's over with. You look up at the sky "Okay universe we both know you will fuck me over one way or another. I know damn well that the bugs were only the beginning." You sigh, done with your anime protagonist moment and reach out to grab your phone.

"Where's my phone...?"

"NO NO NOO," you say panicking "WHERE IS MY LIFE PURPOSE?!" You scream "I AM STILL WAITING FOR TCF MANHWA TO UPDATE!!"

It's been 30 minutes and you are still upset you don't have your phone. YOU DON'T CARE IF SOMEONE KIDNAPPED YOU AS LONG AS THEY GAVE YOU A PHONE OR BE AN IPAD KID.

"Ugh, what's the purpose of life if it isn't to update that one story you never continued in 2020." You say dramatically, if anyone was watching they would think you just lost a loved one.

you felt a small tickle on your foot, and your -20 IQ brain thought that it might be a spider... but suddenly you had gained 1 IQ and decided to actually look at what it was instead of kicking your feet aimlessly.

Turns out it was was a squirrel, thank goodness you didn't kick it. Let's just say tiktok traumatized you with too much information about animals..

The squirrel was just cuddling up to you, your weren't really sure why. It was then you realize your surroundings. "Why the hell am I in some old ass ruin??" Now your confused, you look around the area to see where you are perhaps you might even recognize it who knows? You can see a huge structure, it kinda looks like a crossbow, your not quite sure how to describe it. It feels very familiar for some reason, you can see carving marks on it, it read "Seed of stories, brought by the wind, and cultivated by time." huh for an ancient structure it sure had modern English. Wait. That's not English. How are you even reading that??? there is only one explanation for this. "I am some fictional work that doesn't even make sense, like 90% of fantasy reincarnation stories even if the protagonist was transmigrated and not reincarnated, but they use it anyway to sound cool." You say with a serious face, "Lmao as if that was true" You feel something on your shoulder, you immediately turn to what it was just to find the same squirrel just climbed up to your shoulder and now just cuddling you. "You are so lucky my reflexes didn't kick in, I almost throw you off my shoulders yk." "Why am I even talking to a squirrel? gonna be Snow White 2.0 ig" suddenly you hear something drop, you turn behind you and see- IS THAT AMBER???? looks like she dropped her bow, why does she look so surprised? Is it your outfit maybe? Maybe even the hair?? Anyways you just walked over and picked up ambers bow for her "Yo, you uh dropped this" "YOUR GRACE, YOU DON'T HAVE TO PICK IT UP FOR ME!!" "Wait tf you mean your grace." ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Welp Gen z reader popped up in my mind so here- I decided not to add to many gen z jokes just yet since it is a little short story, might make a part 2 if this post goes well-

#genshin sagau #genshin soft au #sagau #genshin impact #gen z reader

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david-talks-sw · 6 months

Text

I got a good feeling about "The Acolyte"

Not even kidding. Like, I've spoken before about why I'm wary of it.

George Lucas' Star Wars is something that intentionally has black and white morality, rather than shades of gray. Those movies are meant for kids and projecting a "gray" morality onto them then proclaiming it was George's vision all along is doing so in bad faith.

The narrative of the Prequels doesn't frame the Prequel Jedi in as negative a light as Leslye Headland, Dave Filoni, etc etc do.

See here for more details, but bottom line: yeah, a show that has a darksider as the underdog is bound to demonize the Jedi (who are the actual underdogs in the Prequels), and obviously that rubs me the wrong way.

BUT.

The trailer looks fucking cool. It really really does.

youtube

And more importantly? I've done some research... and Leslye Headland is ticking a lot of good boxes, in my book.

1. The Acolyte won't be a 10-hour movie.

I've criticized Disney Plus shows before, explaining that a big source for most of their issues is that these series are being structured as "long movies" rather than, y'know, actual shows.

But in this interview with Collider, Headland addresses that: it'll be a series. Not a long movie that you need to watch across four weeks.

Thank God. You have no idea how much that comforts me. Finally a showrunner who's, y'know, actually running a show.

And this goes hand in hand with what she told IGN, here, about how she's going about building suspense.

Yes! Exactly! That's how it's supposed to be!

Like, compare this to Baylan Skoll's storyline in Ahsoka.

In no possible way was that emotionally-fulfilling. For 8 episodes we had no idea what he was after, and the season ended where we still don't know. What does he want? What is he after? Your guess is as good as mine, it's something Mortis-related.

So yeah. Maybe getting the Emmy-nominated trained screenwriter on board to run this was a good idea.

2. Maybe the Jedi will not be as demonized as I originally thought.

Don't get me wrong. 80% of what she says about the Jedi makes me cringe. It's the typical fan's interpretation and y'all know I disagree with that interpretation.

It's painful to see her refer to the Jedi as an institution (not how the Prequels' narrative frames them) and to see her frame "Balance" in the "oh there's so many of them and just two Sith, that means the Force is out of balance" meaning... but at least she acknowledges the Jedi are a benevolent institution.

They're not an "elitist force hiding in their ivory tower" as others have described the Jedi.

Moreover, there'll be a variety of Jedi POVs, many personalities.

Yord Fandar, is described as a strictly by-the-book Jedi Knight and guardian from the Jedi Temple, is an overachiever and a rule follower.

The question now becomes: will the narrative frame him as "your typical Jedi" or is it just this one guy? I'm hoping it's the latter.

I also like how her reasoning goes re: Jedi drawing their lightsabers.

Which explains the hand-to-hand combat seen in the trailer.

This teenager is coming at Carrie-Ann Moss with a dagger, of course the Jedi won't draw her saber.

3. She's a fan of Star Wars... but a screenwriter first.

You can tell in the interviews she's a fan. She's using words like "BBY" and "EU" casually. In the above-linked interviews she's bringing up the Nightsisters, Timothy Zahn, The Clone Wars, she mentions she has a tattoo of Ralph McQuarrie's concept art of Leia, the High Republic books, etc.

She's done her homework. She's a fan.

But the vibe I'm getting from these interviews is that she's weaving in these various lore-elements in a more organic way, rather than in the "fan-servicey" way Dave Filoni has been doing in his shows.

The references and Easter Eggs will be there, but the narrative won't bend over itself just so you can get it. Crafting a good story comes first, and Andor is a beautiful illustration of why this is true.

Which is why I was never bothered about one of the writers never having watched Star Wars before getting the job. You need those fresh eyes when you're tackling something of this scale.

That makes sense to me. Maybe it's because of my own screenwriting experience, but yeah. That out-of-the box perspective is precious.

And like, obviously, that writer watched the films eventually, but for some reason everyone who bitched about Headland omitted that detail and opted for a more bad faith interpretation.

Hm. Wonder why.

Maybe it's the same reason that months ago this clipped audio circulated socials without context, in which she debates whether Star Wars only came from George Lucas and only Lucas is the key.

The FULL context of that interview reveals that she's actually:

debating the "autheur director" myth and positing that it was achieved by a collective of excellent filmmakers and craftspeople that George was skilled and smart enough to recruit...

the studios now think it's a simple as hiring one guy and throwing money at him, because they have no idea what the fuck they're talking about. See Napoleon (2023) for example.

Yes, she also does a jab to the Prequels, which speaks to the generation of fans she's a part of... but overall she's giving Lucas props whilst also stating an ideological difference, that's it!

George is a proponent of the "autheur" theory, Leslye isn't.

However, guess what, in like half the talks George gave post-selling Star Wars? He's giving shoutouts to everyone who helped make the first film, even remembering their names.

So I'm not even sure he'd vehemently disagree with Leslye, in fact they'd prolly have a conversation about it and immediately bitch about how stupid studio executives are :D

But that's not as incendiary, is it? Again, the more I do the research, the more it feels like the reason most of these influencers are hating on her is purely sexist.

I mean, on IGN she's even acknowledging that she does plan on taking stock of fan reactions for Season 2.

It's not a guarantee that she'll incorporate the feedback, but at least that's more consideration than, say, JJ Abrams or Rian Johnson gave the fandom.

She's even bringing the moral ambiguity that the Gray Jedi-loving edge-lords love so much.

"No, she's a woke feminist! Anything she does is evil! Eww, girls!"

🙄

Needless to say... I'm gonna give it a shot.

I think it's gonna be a good show, I think it's gonna be a solid story.

I'm crossing my fingers that they won't as biased against the Jedi as it seems they'll be. Even if they are... if it's still an enjoyable experience, I'll gloss over it.

As @gffa states in this post:

Worst case? It's not a story from George. I can dismiss it from my headcanon without a moment's hesitation :D

#the acolyte #jedi order #star wars #leslye headland #george lucas #Youtube #discussion

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crazyinluvfix · 5 months

Text

1:1 WOLF MOON ( pt. 2 )

FATAL ATTRACTION - a stiles stilinski story

summary: after a lot of research, a lot of arguing, and a run in with a mysterious stranger, stiles and sera come to the conclusion that scott is a werewolf. sera struggles with this fact while simultaneously trying to keep them from finding out her own secret.

WARNINGS: none

series masterlist

5.5k words

┌──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────┐

After practice, I headed straight to my shift at the hospital - an internship I got thanks to Ms McCall.

I was eternally grateful. Not because I had an affinity for medical care, but because a girl needs to eat. And nowadays I would rather suck my blood from a bag rather than a jugular; morality and all that.

The boys shot me a text saying that they were going to pick me up when I was done so we could continue last night’s target of finding the body, or at least just Scott’s inhaler - collateral damage.

I easily spotted Stiles’ Jeep, skipping over to hop in after watching Stiles kick Scott into the backseat.

“Man, that’s so unfair! Why does she always get to ride shotgun?” Scott protested, now sulking in behind us.

When I got in Stiles put his hand on the headrest of my seat to turn back to Scott, “Because it’s her seat.”

I stayed silent, my satisfied smile spoke for me.

My seat. It truly was. I was in this passenger seat more than anyone else so we dubbed it so. It was such a known rule that Stiles had even started to enforce it.

As we drove, Scott noticed me keeping my bag securely on my lap, rather than chucking it to him.

“What’s in the bag?” he pointed to my heavy-looking, extremely full bag.

‘Dinner,’ I wanted to say. But I didn’t. “Oh, just homework,”

Then Stiles looked over too, “God, your teachers must hate you.”

“I don’t know what it was.”

Me and Stiles wanted to go over Scott’s sudden, unnatural aptitude for lacrosse.

“It’s like… I had all the time in the world to catch the ball.” It seemed as if it didn’t make sense to him either.

“And that’s not the only weird thing…” his tone almost sounded worried, meanwhile Stiles was just intrigued. “I can hear stuff I shouldn’t be able to hear… smell things.”

“Smell things? Like what,” I inquired with a short laugh - I was trying to make light of the situation, but the more he spoke the less funny it became. Maybe it was all just placebo after thinking he got bit by a wolf, that’s what I’d go with.

Scott sniffed the air, “Like the mint mojito gum in Stiles’ pocket.”

Stiles scoffed, reaching down to prove him wrong, “I don’t have any mint mo-” and there it was. The half-wrapped stick of gum lay on his palm.

“Ew,” I muttered, trying to divert my feeling of unease.

“I’m scared that I’ve got some kind of infection from the bite or something,” Scott rambled like he was scared he was dying, although he seemed far from it, “like, what if my body is just flooding itself with adrenaline before I go into shock!”

Noticing the smirk grow on Stiles’ face as I waited for his witty remark.

“You know what, I actually think I’ve heard of this,” he stated as if he was suddenly a biology expert. Scott looked over with hope.

“It’s a specific type of infection,” his hand on his hips as he stopped in his tracks, feigning seriousness.

“Are you serious?” Scott questioned, knowing it was probably one of his jokes, but he was too desperate to care.

“Yeah,” Stiles nodded and I rolled my eyes, obliging him since I was curious about where this was going. “It’s called… lycanthropy,” he stated solemnly.

I fought the urge to sigh, or even laugh, but I waited for Scott��s reaction first. Seems like we were on the same wavelength here… except my concerns were a little more real.

“What’s that?” Scott asked, his tone building in worry, “Is that bad?”

“Oh yeah,” Stiles agreed quickly, shaking his head, “the worst.”

Scott got just a little more pale as Stiles carried on. “But, only once a month.”

“Once a month?”

“Mhm,” I stepped in, donning the same earnest expression as the boy to my left, “on the night of the full moon.” I felt Stiles’ eyes travel to me and out of the corner of mine I caught his smirk, a silent communication as to what we would do next.

We turned back to Scott and howled in sync, I put my hands around my mouth to amplify the dramatics before we both burst out laughing at Scott’s unimpressed look, him moving forward to push us.

“Not funny, guys, there could be something seriously wrong with me!” Scott stomped on the dry leaves and we continued walking.

“I know! You’re a werewolf!” Stiles put his hands up and growled like a monster.

Again, Scott’s only reply was a glare. “Okay, obviously I’m kidding.”

“I’m not,” I mumbled softly toward the ground, but they both turned around and questioned if I said something.

“What?”

“Nothing,” I looked up and shook my head innocently.

“Look,” Stiles always tried to lighten the mood, “just saying, if you see me in shop class trying to melt all the silver it’s ‘cause Friday’s a full moon,” he ran with the joke, reaching back to tap me on the arm to ask if I heard that one. I didn’t want to laugh, but he was just too good.

Scott just ignored us - he had learned that was best sometimes - instead, mentally scanning the ground. “I- I could’ve sworn this was it.” he squatted down to examine what wasn’t there further. “I saw the body, the deer came running, I dropped my inhaler.” He started to root around in the leaves, retracing his steps.

“The killer might’ve moved the body?” I speculated, because he was right, it was gone, I couldn’t even smell blood anymore.

“Well if he did I hope he left my inhaler, those things are like 80 bucks,” he grumbled saltily.

Over the noise of our banter I must’ve missed the sound of footsteps because, in a moment of silence, I picked up another heartbeat, turning to the side to see a tall man dressed in all black staring ominously in our direction. My arm outstretched to hit Stiles and my leg to kick Scott, but before they could complain, they saw him.

Scott shot to his feet as the man started to walk over.

“What are you doing here?” his voice boomed as he approached, clearly scaring the two boys on my either side as I heard their heart rates pick up and Stiles’ hands fidgeted frantically.

We obviously didn’t answer quickly enough because he spoke again, “Huh?”

I waited for Scott or Stiles to reply first, but they were frozen, I sighed.

“This is private property,” the man warned, the dark tone in his voice unsettling.

Then I smelt it… Wolf.

I stepped up, putting on my best, well-practiced innocent face, and looked up at him. “Oh! We’re sorry, we had no idea. We were just looking for something my friend lost,” my wide eyes sparkled, but he didn’t seem to fall for it, instead, his eyes lingered threateningly on me for a few seconds longer than they did on the boys.

A moment of eerie silence came over us before he swiftly took something out of his pocket and threw it into Scott’s hands. His inhaler. Then, without another word, the man walked away, but not before giving me another creepy death stare.

When he was a few paces away and the boys were still a little too shaken to talk, I broke the tension and chuckled. “Well, he was creepy,”

If my suspicions were right, I knew he heard that.

Stiles spun on his heel to face us his hands jumping up and he looked at Scott as if he was stupid for not reading his mind. “Dude!” he took a step closer so he could talk quietly, “That was Derek Hale! You remember right? He’s only like a few years older than us.”

“His family all burned to death in a fire like 10 years ago,” he continued, but I wasn’t listening. I checked out the moment he said ‘Derek Hale.’

So I was right.

The Hales were a notorious werewolf pack down here on the West Coast, but I had no idea they were still around! I had also heard that they were a different type of wolf… stronger, as they were not bound by only turning on a full moon. But I didn’t exactly know how ‘different’ they really were.

And if that was true about the Hales… then I was correct about Scott.

I stayed up the whole night thinking.

Was I a bad friend for not telling them what I already knew? For making them figure this out for themselves while I could easily explain? Yes.

Was it selfish of me to keep such a big part of my life from them when they were the two most important people in my life? Also yes.

But all of this was for their own good. At least that’s what I kept telling myself to distract from the constantly looming cloud of guilt that hung over my head.

Matters only got worse when Stiles messaged me in a panic. A confirmation. They found animal hairs on the body. More precisely, wolf hairs.

The next day I got into school considerably late and very sleep-deprived - because despite what the fairy tales say, vampires still need their beauty sleep.

I was practically dozing off in third-period Chem without Stiles there to keep me awake since the team had a mandatory practice before the big game this week, so I excused myself to go to the bathroom and wander around the halls.

“Now listen, McCall. You’re gonna tell me exactly what it is and who you’re getting it from because there is no way you’re out there kicking ass on the field like that without some sort of chemical boost.”

I stopped my stroll around the halls at the sound of a familiar voice from around the corner.

“Oh, you mean steroids! Are you on steroids?”

Then Scott.

I poked my head out around the corner - Jackson had definitely noticed something was up and Scott wasn’t doing a very good job at keeping it a secret. This wasn’t good.

Crash. “What’s going on with you McCall!”

“You really wanna know?”

Uh oh.

“Well so would I! I can see hear and smell things that I shouldn’t be able to see hear and smell! And I-”

“Woah woah woah,” I ran over, replacing Jackson’s hand on Scott’s shirt with mine and pushing Jackson away, standing in between them.

Jackson looked furious, if he were in a cartoon smoke would be coming out of his ears. I stared him down.

He scoffed and took a step back, “You need your little friend to come rescue you?”

I quickly shushed Scott before he made the situation worse.

“Goodbye, Jackson,” I gave him a fake smile and waited for him to leave.

When he kept his eyes on us as he walked away. “I’m onto McCall. I’m gonna find out what it is you’re taking and I don’t care how long it takes.”

Once he had turned the corner I focused my attention back on Scott.

“Thanks, Ser-”

My hand took hold of his collar once more and did the same move Jackson had just done, another crash as he hit the lockers, his eyes wide and confused. “What were you thinking!”

“What do you mean!” he was incredibly confused.

I sighed, realising he doesn’t know what’s going on at all, so I let go. “You can’t just go around telling Jackson Whittemore this stuff! I know you’re scared but he is the last person you should trust.”

The way his expression dropped told me he knew I was right. But our little interaction was cut short by Coach screaming that their break was over.

“Listen,” Scott started as he stepped back towards the door of the locker room, “I’ll see you later at the game.”

“The game? I thought Stiles told you-” but he left before I could finish my sentence.

“Stiles!” I hurried over to where he sat on the bench, his leg bouncing frantically as he chewed on his bitten fingernails.

His head flicked in my direction, a look of relief on his face, “Sera! I haven’t seen you all day,” he stood up quickly and put his hands on my shoulders to make sure I was really there.

“I came in late,” I brushed it off.

“Have you talked to Scott?”

His head shook vigorously, “He wouldn’t listen. I’m waiting for him to come out so I can try again.”

Just as he said that I saw Scott walking out onto the field and we both approached him, trying to stop from going out onto the field.

“Scott!” Stiles shouted, his voice breaking as he practically bashed the helmet out of his hands.

“Look! I’m playing the first elimination guys, can it wait?” Scott threw his hands up in annoyance, completely ignoring our desperation.

“Man, just listen!” I put my hands on Scott to physically bring his attention to us.

Stiles spoke and he spoke fast. “I overheard my dad on the phone. The fiber analysis on the body came back from the lab in L.A. and they found animal hairs on the body from the woods!”

But Scott was already leaving. We chased after him, no longer bothering to keep our voices hushed.

“Wait! Just hold on!” I reached to grab his sleeve but he was too far, “You’re not gonna believe what the animal was!” Still, he didn’t look back.

Then it was just me and Stiles again. Scott was long gone, but I still finished my sentence, quietly as if only to myself, “It was a wolf.”

For the entirety of the game I could not tear myself away from Stiles on the bench, I simply sat down on my haunches beside him. The more I watched Scott the more my nerves started to skyrocket.

If he was good last time, he was phenomenal now. Before, it was unusual. Now it was plain unnatural the way he swerved and dodged, moving with agility that wouldn’t be out of place in a superhero movie. He even did a whole ass flip over three of the players, that was the kicker. I looked up to Stiles who was already looking back down at me, sharing my loss for words.

Once the game was over we were too lost to join in on the cheering. I knew what was up, and it scared me to know that Stiles knew it too.

Was it so crazy to say that Scott was a werewolf?

“So… what exactly are we looking for again?” my eyes wandered over to Stiles at his computer while I lay on his bed, filing my nails.

He was practically buzzing after popping a couple Aderalls the second we got back from school. “Something… Anything!” His hands continued their frenzied typing, the clicking of the keys becoming a soothing background noise.

This was more or less me and Stiles’ typical Wednesday night - him doing whatever at his desk and me simply just being there so I didn’t get too bored sitting at home alone. To be fair, we usually didn’t have the constant impending sense of doom over the fact our best friend might be a freaking werewolf.

But even though we were both here, we hadn’t directly discussed our thoughts or theories, we didn’t really have to. But my anxiety was starting to escalate. “Okay, Stiles!” I speak louder - I had been saying things here or there but he’d been too in his own world to hear.

Finally, he spun his chair around and looked at me with wired eyes, “Hm?”

“What are we doing? What are we thinking?” I longed for a peek into his brain on a regular day, but today I really wanted to delve into those spinning cogs.

He paused to find the words. “We are thinking… There is something seriously up with Scott, and dare I say it- something not even human,” a sigh left his lips that he had bitten to pieces. The way he said ‘we’ instead of ‘I’m thinking’ was almost a plea for agreement, to tell him he’s not going crazy here, and if he was, at least I’d be crazy with him.

I nodded. “Yeah…” it was hard for me to know how much I should or shouldn’t say, or what I could say. Because I knew a lot more than I was letting on, and it was a shitty move - but the more he figured out about Scott… the closer he got to knowing my truth.

Silence hung in the air for a minute before he called me over with a wave of his hand.

“Come, look at this,” he swivelled his chair back around to sift through the myriad of tabs he had open that made his computer run slow and make an awful whirring noise.

My feet carried me to stand behind his chair, bending down to have a look at the screen.

‘Lycaon’

‘Wolfsbane’

A bunch of gory, ancient images littered the screen as he pointed out key phrases from each website.

And then, finally, the word ‘WEREWOLF.’

He must’ve noticed my wide-eyed muteness as he prompted a response out of me.

“Well?” he waited. “Listen, I- I know it sounds crazy, I know that. But… tell me this doesn’t make perfect sense?”

“You’re right,” I admitted candidly. He was.

“Look I’ve texted Scott… I figured he’s the one with all this he should be here to hear it.”

I was left to wonder how Scott would react to all of this; but the fact Stiles had accepted it so quickly was a wonder in itself. Secretly, I think he loved it all a little too much.

Knock knock.

When two loud bangs came from the other side of Stiles’ door he practically jumped out of his skin, luckily I was behind him to hold his chair upright, puting my hand down on his beating chest that he clutched with his own.

I tiptoed toward the door, reaching for the handle, but it opened before I got there.

There he was, his trademark crooked smile plastered on his lips as he could tell from our faces that he had scared us.

“Get in here!” I beckoned.

That’s when Stiles scrambled up to drag Scott in by the collar and pushed him back to sit on the bed while he paced around the room, finally sitting down in his chair.

“I’ve been reading,” he spoke at the speed of light as I took a seat next to Scott.

“For hours,” my hint of sarcasm didn’t seem to be appreciated, so I let him continue.

“Websites, books, all of it!”

Scott chuckled, “How much Adderal have you had today?”

“Unimportant.”

I turned to whisper one last thing before I shut up, “A lot.”

“Remember the joke from the other day…? Not a joke anymore.”

Scott looked clueless.

“The wolf– the bite in the woods!”

Still nothing.

Stiles shot up out of his seat. “Do you even know why a wolf howls?” His hands were flailing about like they always did; sometimes I genuinely thought he moved faster than me, and I have super speed!

“Should I?”

It was a rhetorical question.

“To signal its location to the rest of a pack! So if you heard a wolf howling that means there could’ve been others nearby, maybe even a whole pack of ‘em!”

The poor guy had not taken a break since 3 o’clock. I got up and stood at his side, placing a hand on his shoulder for him to take a breath, “Shh.”

“A whole pack of wolves?” Scott asked, now intrigued.

“No…” Stiles had finally calmed down a tad, “werewolves.”

My insides physically churned upon hearing him say it out loud. Scott however, did not look impressed. He stood up and grabbed his bag, ready to walk out, “Man, are you seriously wasting my time?”

Stiles was about to step forward, but I took over, moving my hand in front of him to signal I had got it, and my other one a bit rougher to Scott’s to stop him from leaving. “Look dude, I saw you on the field today, Scott. What you did today wasn’t just incredible… It was impossible.” My eyes softened, trying to reason with him.

He was about to retort when Stiles jumped back in, “People can’t just do that overnight! You flipped over 3 guys, Scott,” Stiles almost laughed, “Since when have you been able to do that, huh? I mean- your speed, your reflexes! And there’s the vision and the senses,” he listed everything off on his fingers.

“And don’t think I didn’t notice you don’t need your inhaler anymore!”

“Okay, dude! I can’t think about this now, we’ll talk tomorrow.” He somehow brushed off everything thing we had said as if it was the latest school gossip.

But I was now consumed by the same fever as Stiles, scampering up to him and taking him by the shoulders, raising my voice to their volume. “Tomorrow?”

“What!” Stiles added.

“No!” our pleas ping-ponged back and forth rhythmically as we begged for him to just listen. “The full moon’s tonight! Don’t you get it?”

“What are you guys trying to do!” Scott pushed back, but there was nothing in our eyes other than concern for him… and Allison.

“Everything in my life is somehow perfect, for once! Why are you trying to ruin it?”

I could physically feel the shift in the air as Stiles raked his fingers through his hair, taking in a lungful of air. “We’re trying to help,” his sincerity was like a pang to the heart.

“You’re cursed, Scott.”

That somehow hurt even worse.

It was a fact. But I found myself longing again for just a glimpse at what he really thought. Did he think his best friend was a monster? Did he think less of him? My questions were inherently selfish; I didn’t care what he thought about Scott - not nearly as much as what he thought about me. Because imagine how he would feel discovering his other friend is even more cursed, riddled with a dark history of deceit, horror, and even murder.

But this wasn’t about me. “Scott, he’s right,” my face turned just as solemn.

“You’re not only about the risk of you physically changing… it’s also when your bloodlust will be at its peak.”

Ah, my old friend. I was one to talk.

“Bloodlust?” his repetition was incredulous.

“Your-” I cleared my throat and tried again. “Your urge to kill.”

Scott practically seethed as his eyes flicked between us, “I’m already starting to feel an urge to kill, Sera.”

But before I could offer a witty retort of my own, Stiles had begun reading a passage from one of the books on his ransacked desk, “‘The change can be triggered by anger or anything that raises your pulse,’” he snapped the book closed and I half-flinched.

“Alright? I haven’t seen anyone raise your pulse like Allison does. You gotta cancel this date.”

Scott knew he was right, but I could hear the anger raising his pulse right there and then as Stiles shot towards his bag, scrambling around to get his hands on Scott’s phone to do it himself. “Screw it, I’m doing it myself.”

The next few seconds seemed to play in slow motion.

Scott’s voice shouted louder than I’d ever heard it, his actions much more aggressive as he practically flung Stiles against a wall in protest for his phone. A fist aimed at his best friend’s face, and his arm swinging back to push over the chair.

Too fast for either of them to notice I ran forward and intervened, pushing Scott’s now heaving figure away from a shellshocked Stiles. No one spoke.

Until Scott.

“I’m sorry.”

He didn’t sound sorry.

“I gotta get ready for that party.”

Tension in the room hung heavy, it was safe to say that was an unexpected turn.

And me? I was still stuck worrying that either of them had noticed the speed at which I got to them or the strength at which I countered Scott.

But when I finally came to my senses, I knew there was only one thing I could do.

Wordlessly I put my arms around Stiles, his naturally finding their place around my shoulders as I listened to the sound of his breathing.

Whatever was going on with Scott, I would take care of it.

The best way to stop Scott from doing anything stupid tonight was to keep an eye on him in person. He was with Allison at Lydia’s party, which naturally had half the entire school there even though it was announced just yesterday.

Which in turn meant that it might be a little more difficult to spot him than hoped.

Since I had come with Stiles I was immediately roped into one of his and his nerd friends’ conversations about something I had no clue about - it sounded like a foreign language. He could tell I was a little out of place, so he stuck by my side, his hand snaking around my waist as nothing more than a friendly gesture.

While we waited for a gap in conversation to seek out Scott, one of the jocks from the lacrosse team ‘bumped into me,’ a typical cocky grin on his lips. “Sorry, babe.”

It was so insincere I almost laughed in his face.

“Come here, I’ll get you a drink to make up for it.”

Gross. Stiles noticed the interaction and audibly scoffed, but I ignored him.

“Ew?” I said simply in the guy’s face, pushing him away with my fingertips and shooing him off.

This little interaction made the boys we were standing with suddenly aware that I was in fact a girl, and a popular one at that, turning them all even more awkward in the blink of an eye - Stiles found this incredibly stupid.

“Hey,” my demeanour screamed boredom and he must’ve noticed. “You go have fun. We can find Scott later, we’ve got plenty of time.”

My eyes lit up. ‘Thank God.’ “Ugh, you’re the best, Sti,” I grabbed his hand with both of mine and walked away, dropping it when out of reach. “Love you, man!” I pointed a finger at him before turning and skipping away.

There was a collective gasp from those boys, so shocked that Stiles could get a girl to say she loved him.

Poor losers. They’re lucky Stiles was a little nerd at heart because he was way too cool for them.

Outside seemed like my best bet to have some fun. Everyone was dancing, drinking, making out. This was my scene. You never outgrew a high school party (unless you were my buzzkill of a twin brother); just because you’re dead doesn’t mean you have to stop living.

I found some guy to dance with to kill my time, sipping a drink out of a red solo cup, all the while keeping my eyes peeled for that pesky little werewolf on the prowl somewhere.

And as we moved, there he was. He still looked very much human, and Allison didn’t look horrified, so it seemed as though we were all good.

The night moved quickly, 40 minutes had felt like ten and now there were even more people to block my watchful eye.

I could smell dog - or wolf rather - over the alcohol and teenage B.O., so Scott must be nearby.

But as soon as I told myself not to panic, my phone rang.

STILES…

Stiles

SCOTT

MISSING

CAN’T FIND HIM

GET OFF THAT DUDE AND COME

“Shit!” I cursed under my breath, causing the guy I was with to give a dumb ‘huh?’ which I waved off, excusing myself and running back into the house.

I soon found Stiles who was standing at the front door, keys in hand and ready to hit it.

But when we got to Scott’s house he had already left out his bedroom window. He would be back, there was no point in chasing him - not on a full moon, not out there.

Stiles went to sit on the bed while I paced, putting a hand on my forehead.

“Listen,” he stayed calm in an effort to soothe my nerves, “he’ll be back soon. I can take you home and I’ll come back to wait for him, I know you haven't been sleeping well.”

I spun on my heel to look him in the eyes, sincere enough to make my hand drop-down. “It’s fine you don’t-”

“Come on,” he stood up, not letting me finish and I didn’t want to argue - he was right, I was stressed, tired, and could not pull another all-nighter due to supernatural stress.

I was an overthinker in life, that was only amplified with being turned.

“Okay…” I admitted defeat, a once-in-a-lifetime thing to hear from me. Stiles even raised his eyebrows in shock that he didn’t have to do any more convincing.

“Thanks,” I paused, looking up at him. Maybe this was his way of making it even after I saved him from Scott earlier; he was the only one who ever saw that I needed saving sometimes too.

Late-night rides in Stiles’ Jeep were always a comfort. Music on, but not blaring, yet loud enough for me to sing along - quiet enough to hear my soft melodies over the recording.

I got him to drop me off down my road (as usual), using the excuse of ‘not wanting my brother to see me sneak back in.’

But the walk up to my house felt like a walk of shame. Every time I lied it felt worse. Especially to him.

After opening my door I sped straight up to my room, my swirling thoughts refusing to quiet for one second. I felt so alone in this fabricated life I had made spun. I couldn’t tell Scott or Stiles what I knew, and they were the ones fucking involved!

So I did the only thing I could do and called my brother.

“Damon?”

Immediately, he could hear something was up. Yeah, he was a rude, stone-faced, ladykiller (literally), but I saw his true heart of gold, just like when we were kids.

“Sera? Hey, what’s up?”

Where do I start?

Werewolves. My best friend being one of them. Thinking there might be more.

It was a long conversation.

After getting everything off my chest and a nice glass of bourbon, I slept like a rock.

In the morning, Stiles had finally managed to find Scott, picking me up on the way, but I wasn’t much entertainment. I was still half asleep, leaning my head against the window while I yawned.

“You needed that sleep, huh?” Stiles teased, wanting me to admit he was right to send me home last night.

My pride was too strong, but I did crack a smile, “Shut up.”

And soon, we saw a familiar, shirtless frame, wandering alone down where the road met the trees - did he have any idea how much of a werewolf cliche he was?

The car stopped beside him and he saw us, stopping to get in, looking downright shaken.

When he unlatched the door to my side he opened his mouth to tell me to get in the back, but Stiles interrupted before he could.

“Nuh-uh,” he shook his head, hands still gripping the wheel, “you know the drill, climb through,” he nodded toward the back.

My smile widened. It had become a given.

Scott went to protest that he had just been gallivanting through the woods for a night, but Stiles cut him off with another noise, pulling a disgruntled sigh out of Scott as he dove over the middle console.

The drive was unusually tense. A strong vibe of ‘I told you so’ came off both me and Stiles that coerced Scott into silence who now felt bad for the way he reacted yesterday, because we were right.

After about 3 minutes, he finally spoke, “You know what worries me the most?”

Stiles craned his neck back to see his friend curled up against the metal frame, his face unmoving as he was still angry. “If you say Allison I’m gonna punch you in the head.”

“She probably hates me now,” he whined, not listening.

“I doubt that,” I interjected, “But you might wanna come up with a pretty amazing apology.”

“Or you could tell her the truth,” Stiles shrugged as we both cast looks at him to tell him that was stupid. “And revel in the fact that you’re a freaking werewolf!”

“But really, we’ll get through this,” he continued, not only looking to Scott but to both of us. “If we have to we’ll chain you up ourselves on full moon nights and feed you live mice. I had a boa once, I could do it.”

There he was. His tone was lighter again as he reached down into his bag to chuck Scott the shirt he brought for him since we were headed straight for school. It was Stiles. He couldn’t stay mad for too long, not at something he found as awesome as this.

It left me with a glimmer of hope.

ੈ✩‧₊˚

a/n: things are getting tense… check the series masterlist at the top for other parts x leave liked and comments !

└──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────┘

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tridenopmoth · 2 months

Text

I haven't written in handwritten, well about 7 years. (oh god..) Because I can't read that kind of font, even my own, literally

Well, the picture itself is the closest thing to a reference to my selfsona that I've ever done. And a mask design for my old oc (maybe later I'll do a full design).

But it's still in the style and world of yaelokre, and I have this thought that I draw too rough for that style

(they're not wings at all, well in the normal sense, they're like outgrowths with bay leaf bushes, like the ones on cheeks. It is connected with my surname, because it sounds like a laurel leaf and since I realised the meaning of my surname, I started to draw myself like that. There's actually a whole story behind every detail of the design, but maybe some other time hehehe)

#yaelokre #yaelokre oc #meadowlark #meadowlark sona #oc art #oc

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myoldurlwasemo · 4 months

Text

potentially unpopular (but undeniably correct) Maria SH2 opinion incoming.

I am normally so profoundly against the "oh no, they un-sexified my video game woman" rhetoric but it is so critically important to who Maria is as a character and to the overall theming of the game as a whole, and to put her in a more conservative outfit is so blatantly missing the point that it makes me deeply worried for the direction of this remake and the dev's grasps on the games most central theme.

Silent Hill 2 is an exploration into the psychosexual guilt of a man who experienced carnal urges while his wife was dying of a mysterious disease and physically unavailable to him. Maria is the most concrete confirmation of and confrontation with this theme that exists in the game. A mirror of his dead wife, meant to look James in the face and say "this is what you wanted, right?" She HAS to be identifiably sexual on sight, because Maria only exists to be a purposeful avatar of this concept.

it is ESSENTIAL TO THE PLOT that Maria is aware of and in CONTROL of her sexuality. Not only is it critical to James' story and his overall theming, but part of the tragedy of Silent Hill IS Maria's own story. Maria, who feels like a real, whole person, is an invention of the town made explicitly and only to torture James. Part of the tragedy is that Maria herself was born (from a wish, ba dum tss) by a malevolent supernatural force to exist as a sexual object. Maria, who is brought back to life again and again to be killed brutally, begging for James to save her. Maria, who comes to understand that she will never live up to the ideal of James' dead wife, and will continually beg to be taken seriously as her own person. The only thing she has to offer is her sexuality, the one thing James couldn't get from Mary; the thing that brought him to the town, to her. It her is primary character function, and it wasn't done to objectify her for shits and giggles, or because the devs were pervs who wanted a sexy woman in their game. It was done because that, in itself, is a horrifying, gut-wrenching reality to be brought into, a fundamentally ABYSMAL reason to exist. It IS the horror.

Maria exists exclusively to be a confrontation with James' sexual guilt. She is a specter that haunts the hallways James walks down, a shadow that hovers over his shoulder, the object of his shame and desire. Maria is the worst, most carnal aspects of James' urges made manifest, standing before him, tempting him deeper into the clutches of the town, muddying his senses with her physical allure.

Maria's outfit actually IS that deep. Part of the tragedy is that she only exists to be objectified. It is a commentary in itself. This is the one time EVER (god willing) that I will champion a woman being in a revealing outfit in a video game, because this is the one time it actually fucking MATTERS

maybe this is an unpopular opinion but as an afab person these themes are so so important and identifiable to me. it reflects the horror of every day life as a woman and magnifies them tenfold. it is tragic, it is awful, it is sick, and the point isn't to glorify it, but to call attention to it. it forces you to engage, to not turn your head away. and that matters to me.

anyways bloober team really be bloobing all over this IP huh

#sh2 #sh2 remake #sh2 maria #silent hill #silent hill 2 #silent hill 2 remake #konami #bloober team #eat your fucking heart out konami #you rat bastards #reboob my wife you cowards #literally nobody fucking cares what i have to say on this but i am so passionate about it #i had to vomit my thoughts into the ether #bloober team when i catch you

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its-time-to-write · 1 year

Note

Hi,

Just discovered your page and I am obsessed! I was wondering if you could do something about Jamie getting hurt and the reader meeting him in the treatment room and comforting him? Or something along those lines, I trust you!

Thanks!

Dang, you’re putting my angst skills to the test! I wrote this instead of doing homework. Probs won’t post again till the weekend, but who knows? Not me, that’s for sure. Thanks for requesting!

feeling fragile, can’t you tell

Football matches are always tense. It’s all about squeezing Keeley’s hand when Richmond gets the ball, booing when they miss and screaming when they score. You never know how they’re going to end until they’re done, and god it kills you. Especially when Jamie has the ball. You feel like you can’t breathe until you see it swoosh into the net, after which your chest loosens up.

You love it. Mostly.

The part you don’t love is the part that results in the medics being called onto the field. Some injuries are accidental, some are on purpose. You hate those. You’ve watched more players kick, shove, and punch each other than you would care to count. Your least favorite injury so far was when a burly player broke Sam’s foot “on accident.” You thought Roy and Isaac were going to commit murder.

Jamie told you the next morning that the whole team egged the man’s house that night. That’s why he had been late coming over. He wouldn’t tell you who’s idea it was, but you have a vague recollection of Jamie telling childhood stories about egging houses with his friends.

Injuries are truly awful.

Which is why you’re standing stock-still in the owner’s box, clutching Keeley’s arm and willing Jamie to get up.

He’d done this thing where he kicked the ball away from the opposing team, but landed on his back funny. Rebecca whispers, “Oh god, it’s Roy all over again,” and you remember being told about Roy’s injury. The one that took him out of the game for good.

Jamie’s only twenty-five, you reason to yourself, he has to be ok.

He still hasn’t gotten up. The medical team are rushing onto the field, and you’re pushing past Rebecca, running downstairs to go find him.

Keeley is hot on your heels, running as best she can in her heels which, honestly, is actually pretty good.

You’re not quite sure where you’re going, feeling blinded by worry. Keeley grabs your arm and tugs you toward the treatment room.

You burst through the doors right behind Keeley, who has almost run smack into Roy. He looks grim, more grim than usual.

“What’s wrong with him?” you whisper, mindful of the atmosphere in the treatment room. Jamie is on a table on his back, face white.

“Passed out,” Roy responds gruffly. “Fucked his leg and back pretty bad, but doesn’t explain why he’s fucking unconscious.”

Tears are beginning to form, and Keeley wraps her arms around your waist.

You move out of the doorway so the medics can pick up Jamie in a stretcher and move him to the ambulance.

You get a closer look at him as he passes by, features slack.

You feel like you’re choking.

—

The ride to the hospital is a blur. You’re not even sure how you ended up in Roy’s car, but you’re there, sitting in the back seat with Keeley’s comforting presence the only thing keeping you loosely tethered to reality.

Your mind is running through every possible scenario as to why he passed out. None of them are good. He’s messed up his back and leg before, but never to this point. And his face.

You can’t stop thinking about his face.

To be honest, he looked dead.

Panic starts to hit again, and it takes every ounce of control you have to force yourself to breathe.

—

You’re outside Jamie’s hospital room now. His doctor said he pulled some muscles, and passed out from a combination of too little water, food, and sleep. The pain must have been enough to trigger his body into finally catching up with itself.

You sigh, and push open the door, Roy and Keeley promising to wait for you outside.

Jamie is propped up in the bed, IVs in his arms for hydration.

At the sight of you, he says a soft, “hey, babe.”

He’s still so pale, and the tears you’d been holding in start streaming out.

“What happened, Jamie?” you ask, sitting on the chair next to his bed. You take his hand in yours. “How did I not know you weren’t eating?”

Jamie’s quiet for a moment, and you can see a glimmer of a tear in his left eye.

“I dunno,” he replies softly.

He doesn’t say anything after that, so you’re just left sitting there, hand-in-hand, in silence. He’s staring at the end of his bed, you’re staring at his face.

When it becomes clear he has no intention of speaking up you say, “Jamie.”

He turns to you, eyes hollow. “Saw me dad last week.”

You blink.

Oh.

“Oh,” you say out loud.

Jamie is silent for a beat, then says, “Didn’t tell ya because I didn’t want you to worry. He’s a piece of shit and my fuckin problem, not yours.”

You shake your head and bring his hand up to your lips. “Jaim. I’m so sorry. I am so, so sorry,” because you know exactly what he’s saying.

You had assumed you hadn’t seen Jamie due to all his extra training.

You had assumed that he was taking care of himself in preparation for the game, like he always did.

You had assumed too much, because his dad was an unknown variable that threw a wrench in every place he found himself in.

The last time his dad had shown up, Jamie had tried to stop eating. You say tried because you basically force-fed him after the first day. He also couldn’t sleep. You could feel him tossing and turning, getting up to pace around, just restless. You’d rub his shoulders, hold him close, but nothing worked. He didn’t sleep well for two weeks when he was finally so tired that his body pretty much just shut down.

So. His passing out makes sense now.

Jamie is gripping your hand, knuckles white, tears beginning to roll down his face. His face, which he is trying to keep stoic, and is beginning to return to its normal color.

“Jamie,” you say. “Jamie, you don’t have to keep all this in.”

He shrugs.

“No, I’m serious,” you continue, “You shouldn’t keep this all in. We’re a team, you know? We’re supposed to share this kind of thing with each other, and if you think I don’t want to hear it or can’t handle it, then that’s a problem.”

Jamie whips his head around from his blank stare at the wall to your face. He whispers, “Are we breaking up?” fear evident in his expression.

“No,” you reply. “No. We’re just- we’re just figuring it out. I don’t want you to feel like you have to keep things from me.”

You’re beginning to lose feeling in your hand. Jamie is looking somewhat relieved, but still not great.

“How long are you in here?” you ask.

“Doctor wants to keep me overnight. Make sure I’m hydrated or some shit.”

You hesitate. “Do you- do you want me to stay with you? I don’t have to, if you want to be alone I can just-”

“Yes.”

Jamie’s color is really coming back now, and he looks like someone’s removed a huge weight from his chest. “Yes, I would really fucking like it if you stayed. I can move over so you don’t have to sleep on that fucking shitty plastic couch.”

You crack a smile at that as he gingerly scoots over. You climb into the bed, mindful of his leg and the IVs. He throws an arm around you with less care than you think he should have, but you’re not going to worry about that right now so you just snuggle into his side. He’s warm, and you didn’t realize how cold you were until this exact moment.

There’s a knock on the door, and Keeley pokes her head in.

“Everything alright, babes?” she asks.

“All good here, Keels,” Jamie responds. You give her a small smile, which she returns.

“Alright then, Roy and I are gonna go. We’ll be back to pick you up tomorrow, yeah?” She points to you. “Text me if you need anything. Won’t be getting much sleep tonight.”

You’re not sure if she means she isn’t sleeping due to the excitement of the night or because she’s going home with Roy, but she’s gone before you can ask.

You sigh and put your head on Jamie’s shoulder.

You say, “Don’t ever fucking do that again, ok?” but it comes out as a plea, voice on the edge of breaking.

He replies, “I won’t,” in such a soft, sincere tone that you believe him.

You breath deeply for the first time that night, just glad that he’s ok and you’re together. You are a team, after all.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

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bubba-luz · 3 months

Note

What do you think about the One Piece live action show?

(I just suffered through most of it with my sibling and I actually shed a tear or two)

At first I really loved it! But then as the weeks went by the honeymoon phase was over and I started noticing things and thinking about things. Safe to say I’m not really a fan of the LA anymore. It could have been worse honestly with the track record of Netflix and live action adaptations in general [the wigs oh god the wigs]. Also on the topic of adaptation I’d say OPLA is more of an interpretation of the original manga than it is a one on one adaptation.

I think the cast is great, they do look the part. But the characterizations of the LA is well…not the manga one. I had forgotten what happened in the EB arc at that time, but I started rewatching the anime and the changes are even more jarring. In the LA, Luffy isn’t as confident as he is in the manga, he clearly shows doubt in his abilities and sometimes needs someone else to help him up and get his head on straight. I think the only true time that happens in the manga us when Jinbē has to tell him to get himself together after losing Ace and his crew, most of the time Luffy doesn’t really need to ponder and go “oh gosh what should I do here?😣” he mostly just does things without thinking or improvises mid-battle.

Zoro. Zoro Zoro Zoro. Roronoa Zoro. Why are you not a complete loser? OPLA Zoro is what men in the fandom think Zoro is, a stoic no nonsense cool guy who fights with swords. He’s just so emo. But he’s not. The concept alone of fighting with a sword in your mouth and calling it three sword style is ridiculous itself. This is pre-timeskip too, Zoro is always goofy, but he was even more silly when he was 19, this is the same man who tried to cut off his own legs and started posing when he realized he wasn’t getting out. Why was he so serious all the time. Also the Kunia story did not hit as well as in the manga, like I really didn’t give a fuck 😭.

Oh Nami…Nami…To me Nami felt a bit…mean to me? And yes even before Arlong Park she chastises the boys, but it never feels like genuine dislike. I really think LA Nami wanted to leave their asses 😭. There was no whimsicalness in her heart, TOO MUCH ANGST in this one. And why on Earth would they change her storyline with the Village, the townspeople know Nami is only working for Arlong to buy back their Village, the LA approach of them not knowing was completely unnecessary conflict😭.

Usopp was done dirty, I know Syrup Village isn’t a lot of people’s favorite arc but it was Usopp’s arc. So tell me why he does nothing the whole time! And why is Zoro’s back story in the middle of USOPP’S arc. They even took his little kid crew…

rip Merry.

Sanji…ooohohohohoh Sanji. Sanji. SANJI. What do you mean the eyebrows wouldn’t work because they’re “too silly” you’re main character is a rubber man and the other fights with three swords what do you mean TOO SILLY. You had a man with cat whiskers fuck you. Tiny swirls would’ve worked. Why was he obsessed with oregano 😭 The showrunner said they toned down his pervertedness and made him more flirty but it just felt…uncomfortable. Like Nami was genuinely UNCOMFORTABLE. They did the exact opposite of what they tried to do. Baratie Sanji was already a flirt, in his little pathetic “step on me mommy” Sanji way, and Nami used that to her advantage she wasn’t uncomfortable in the manga. The Don Krieg pirates were taken out, so we don’t get Gin and Sanji’s kindness on full display. Sanji doesn’t even WITNESS Zoro fight Mihawk which is what made him want to go set out to find the All Blue in the first place. Why don’t Zeff and Sanji have genuine chemistry😭. Sanji throwing a tantrum at Zeff was soooooo funny, literally what was that, it happened so suddenly 😭. My friend told me the showrunner said his fave arc was Baratie but he only ever talks about MIHAWK 😭, it’s SANJI’s arc bro.

And also the showrunner thinks the romance dawn trio are the main characters when…they’re not😭? Maybe before Usopp joined, but after?…no all the strawhats are the main characters hello. Luffy, Zoro, Nami, Usopp, Sanji, Chopper, Robin, Franky, Brook, Jinbē. I don’t have high hopes for S2, and I probably won’t watch it either.

Edit: OPLA Sanji feels like a heterosexual man. He only tops women and doesn’t fuck or get fucked by men.

#ask

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ebonysplendor · 4 months

Note

Do you have a review of The Kid At The Back?

O_O;

Pfft...of course I do! What? You thought I just had it downloaded and in my "Play Later" stash for the past 2 - 3 months with the full intention of playing it and writing a review, just for it to never happen? Of course not~! Just to prove it to you, I will insert the entire thing right here, no links needed! And no, it's not because I didn't have it written until now, so don't think that! ANYWAYS.

TL;DR: I'm not worried about if this man is at the back. My question and only concern is can he hit it from the back?

Game Link: https://fantasia-kittcat.itch.io/the-kid-at-the-back-demo

Notable Features: Yandere LI, Custom Pronouns, Self-Insert (first and last name), Two LIs, 1+ Hour Long Demo Spiciness: 2/5 or 5/5 -- It depends on which version you get. If you get the regular degular free version, it'll be more innocent with some flirtiness here and there. If you pay for the NSFW version, it'll be way more sinful and the way that the Gods intended it to be. LI Red Flags: 4/5 -- Breaking-and-entering, possessive, drugged us, lack of consent; the usual stuff, but I can fix him

Wanna know more? Pfft, not if you aren't in the 18+ club you don't. Yes, that's even with nothing explicit popping off in the demo. So go on, get away. Oh? You're at least 18? Well, what are we waiting for?! Let's get into it!

...Okay, so I may or may not have completely lied about having this review written, but I mean, so what?! I'm making the review now, aren't I?! Cut a girl some slack!

Lol actually, all jokes aside, this gave me the push that I needed to go on and get it done. I've honestly been meaning to play this game for a hot minute now, but other things caught my immediate attention, and this kept getting pushed further and further back. All that matters now is that I've finally played it, I'm making the review, and we are here together as a squad.

Now, with that being said...

I find it extremely disrespectful that I waited so long to play this masterpiece; what was I thinking?

The story, so far, has me in an absolute chokehold, and I absolutely hate that it's only the demo because I want to know now. I am all over this story right now, and the dev is going all the way in with no remorse.

Not to mention, the LI -- or at least the one that I'm simping for, because there's two this time -- is just so damned good looking. What's even more attractive is that he doesn't play into the whole edge lord stereotype like some people we know. He's actually a pretty sweet guy so far! He has psycho tendencies, for sure, but a sweet guy overall!

Just as a side note, I have always had the weakest spot for a guy in alt/goth/emo/grunge -- all of that -- fashion. Like, the attraction that I have is ungodly, and I just...like, it's disrespectful how attractive I find them. Now, I want you to imagine our yandere LI...but with tattoos. When I tell you that I'd be ruined?!

Biiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiitch.

When I say ready to submit?! When I say ready to turn into the absolute best baby girl?

*Ahem*

Okay, now that I've got my degeneracy out a little bit, I'm going to start giving you a summary of the game so that you can be as absolutely geeked -- and in love with this man -- as much as I am. The game is really good, and like I said, the story is damned interesting thus far. Anyways, I'm going to stop yapping so I can start telling you about the game. Like always, I am going to tell you as much about the game as possible without ruining the game itself. That being said, let's finally get into it.

So boom.

Literature class is over, and we're getting our anime protagonist on. We're dramatically looking out the window thinking about how it's going to rain, and how it was super unfortunate that we hadn't brought an umbrella. ... Damn.

...Okay, well anyways! Now that we've had our main character complex solidified, we get up, and one of the members of the squad inquire about lunch before another one comes up behind them. Now, we aren't too worried about them anymore because we're looking at him.

Jericho "Crowe" Ichabod.

Classroom representative, close friend, and an absolute snack. While he has an anime antagonist aesthetic to him, he has the vibe of the supporting character and love interest of the anime protag, ya feel me? Like, we are feeling this man.

After we're done thinking about how much we simp over this man on the low, we respectfully reject the offer to go to lunch and instead hit the library, anticipating that addictive smell of books and coffee. Besides, we've got a paper to work on, so why not? We get our stuff, and we head in that direction.

Now, everyone knows about having unassigned assigned spaces, right? You know that whole thing when you get so used to sitting in a particular seat, or having a certain parking spot, or always studying in a particular room, so you just always gravitate towards it and kind've make this unsaid claim on it? Well, we have an unassigned assigned seat by this window in the library, and some bitch took it right as we were going towards it. How are we supposed to feed into our main character syndrome, if we don't have the window seat?

Whatever though. We're lowkey pissy about it, but we decided to let the kid have their moment. Everyone deserves their own episode, ya feel? We go find another seat.

Since this is the library and all, we start browsing the shelves to find a book for a little leisure reading. Was this the initial choice? No, but we weren't really trying to involuntarily focus on the fact that we got stuck sitting around all the gossiping "peaked-in-high-school" students. Shout out to that bitch who took our seat earlier. Your mom's a hoe, and I hope someone punches you in the face. Either that or you get in a knife fight. Either is good, just don't sit in my damned unassigned assigned seat anymore.

It gets worse though, because we can't even look for a book in peace. There's this loud ass thud from the book shelf right next to us, and whoever knocked into it hit it hard enough that some of the books almost came off the shelf. Of course, we've got to investigate the cause of this, so we try to catch a peek through a gap on the bookshelf and...it's honestly typical.

Remember when I told you about the "peaked-in-high-school" students? Well, we found another set on the other side of the bookshelf. These two students were harassing this other student for, what sounds like, no apparent reason. The situation escalates pretty quickly before one of the bullies absolutely knocks that other student's shit in. We just kind've wince because, damn that's tough...but, meh, it's not our business. The other bully then proceeds to pull out a pocket knife. Well, damn, I guess it's our business...

We jump in.

Lol don't get it twisted, though. We didn't do much, but we did do enough to get them to go away, which mattered more than anything because this guy was definitely about to end up in a hospital bed.

We help this poor, unfortunate soul up, and...gah damn, he's tall. Lol imagine my 5'2.5 -- 5'3 on a good day -- self helping this 6ft tall man up. Sheeeeeeeeesh. He should've curb stomped their asses, because he's gotta be rocking at least a size 14 shoe.

Anyways, I guess he kind've said "fuck us" though, because we were like "Nurse's office?" and he was like "Nah" and just straight dipped out after that. No "thank you", no nothin', and-- wait.

THIS BITCH WAS THE ONE SITTING IN OUR UNASSIGNED ASSIGNED SEAT. We know this, because he went and got his stuff from over there and then bolted out of the library! Well, that explained the punch to the face and the pocket knife. Honestly? Good look, universe.

Okay, okay, okay, enough jokes; let's get on with the rest of the story (kinda because avoiding huge spoilers).

We leave the library, too, after some more time goes by, and guess who's in our next class...

The bitch that stole our seat The guy from the library. Huh...never noticed him before this point, but that's probably because he sits at the very back of the room.

He must've noticed us, too, though, because when we make eye contact, he get's all flustered in the face and looks away.

Now, admittedly, after that encounter in the library, we're kind've curious about this kid, and, again, it's dope how the universe works sometimes because, for this class, we need a partner, and wouldn't you know it?

We don't have a partner, he doesn't have a partner, so we do as the Gods intended and pair up.

Contrary to how he looks, he actually isn't the tsundere of our cast.

He -- his name is Solivan Brugmansia, by the way; he likes to be called sunny Sol -- is actually a pretty okay dude!

He's not that stereotypical emo boy edgelord or that arrogant hard ass that thinks the people around him are idiots. He's actually pretty nice and legit doesn't mind our company; he's even open to seeing us outside of class just to casually hang out and talk. He's also pretty -- very, extremely... -- damned attractive, if you don't mind me throwing that in. Something else that I wanna throw in is that -- you remember when I mentioned that he rushed out without saying "thank you"? -- he said "thank you" and really appreciated us jumping in to help him.

Pretty grateful that he didn't make it to the knife fight portion of our threat. I would've never made that threat if I knew he was going to be this sweet of a guy.

Anyways, class gets out, we exchange numbers, and make mentions of hanging out in the future before parting ways for the day. We get back home, text some of our friends and the new bae, and eventually go to sleep for the next day to roll around.

As mentioned, the next day rolls around, and we're with the squad making lunch plans. While this is going on, we find new bae in the crowd of students in the hallway. Naturally, we call him over, but in hindsight, this was not the brightest idea. We didn't really account for the fact that OG bae and new bae were going to catch a bad vibe from each other.

And boi, did they catch a bad vibe. More accurately, they caught a "you're competition" vibe.

At this point they're sizing each other up, and it's like, please don't do that, because I'll take you both...then again, I am leaning more towards one than the other.

But it might get bad depending on whoever we pick, and we've definitely got to pick.

I have got to give the fattest shout out to whoever sent that anon message in, because they've pushed me to stand on business and play this game, and it was so worth it.

Honestly, where do I even start with this? The art style, the bae, the plot -- dear Gods the plot. I am so invested in this story! You'll understand once you play it for yourself, but it's like...what is going on?! What is going on behind closed doors? Why are things starting to get not so black and white? Like, I am extremely suspicious of the things that are going on in this game. Like, the dev(s) didn't have to go in on the art style and the story like that. Speaking of the art style...

Y'all know that I have a thing for the way that games look, and baby, I am in love. I love this whole "comic book" vibe that this game has going on. Like, I just love the shadows behind the characters and their designs and how they're written and just -- I honestly can't give you a clear depiction of how much I love the art style or exactly what about it I love, but I love it. I just love the style of this game, how it looks, and how it flows.

Anyways, I think this game is definitely worth it, and shit, based on what I managed to dig up and research, those $5 to unlock the sin is worth it. Not even because the CGs or the scenes that were made exclusively for the degenerates were revolutionary or anything, but because I really feel that this is going to be a great damned visual novel once it's complete, and it is so deserving of that monetary support. The amount of work that has already gone into this game in its demo stage is impressive, and I am super excited to see what else is in store. Like, I'm really trying to see what day 3 is about at this point, and I'm trying to get to the part where Sol starts clapping these cheeks. I will do a lot more than just research the NSFW scenes, I'm going to drop some cash to experience that firsthand. BRING ON THE OTHER 5 DAYS. MY BODY IS READY FOR IT!

But seriously, when is Sol going to start hitting it from the back...? And no, I ain't scratching it out this time! Y'all know what it is at this point! You know full well that I am a degenerate.

Lol okay, anyways, all jokes aside, that's it from me.

Like I said, I'm really excited for this full game to drop, and I will gladly spend the money for it whenever that time comes. That being said, I definitely recommend it. If you want the NSFW version, you do have to spend a minimum of $5 to unlock it; however, if you're low on cash, you're still able to play, but it'll be the SFW version -- both are really good either way, so don't let that deter you.

I'll go ahead and put a link for it right here so that you can head on over and get in on this amazingness. As I always like to remind people to do, once you get to the dev's page, leave them that ever warm "Yo, this shit is fire..." to give them some verbal validation, and if you're feeling really fancy, drop some financial validation, too. Either way, definitely play this game because it is good and so worth the (minimum) hour of playthrough.

Welp, that's all from me, friends! As always, please remember to drink water, don't be dumb, and hope to see you around~!

The Kid at the Back (DEMO)

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