#that composition leading the eye around

[lamamasjamas]

To Serve or Indulge

Summary: Your sensitivity to darkness leads you to a path of vices.

A/n: Saw a tweet that said that Sith should seduce Jedi to the dark side with lust and I thought that was so true. Canon isn’t real to me so reader is a Jedi Sentinel who specializes in being a shadow agent. 🤗

Warnings: Allusion to dubcon smut, freaky foreplay dreams, JediShadow!Reader, a slice of what’s to come… 🤫

Tah’Nuhna. Cold, peaceful, neutral. The order kept a close eye on the Tah’Nuhnans. You were lured there for a reason.

Neutrality meant they never picked sides. It also meant it was a safe haven, for light and dark alike. The darkness was pungent as you wandered the streets of the crystallized city.

The penetrating reflections of the structures shine onto you and make you wince in irritation as you were led to your temporary quarters

The same darkness you’ve tracked has kept you up at night for months. It infiltrates your dreams. It would envelope you every night, making your heart pump, your skin dew in anticipation.

A red flame would catch your eye and before you knew it a heat was upon your neck like a bolt.

You’d wake up with fear and your hands would tremble to your side instinctively. You’d forget that your blade was stored at your bedside.

A shadow can only make itself known with light. Some of your companions would question the existence of your sect. You would question their own devotion to the light.

It was a necessity to act ruthlessly in order to snuff them out. Amulets, talismans, and artifacts of the Sith were still passed and traded throughout the galaxy.

Less so after a millennia of Jedi intervention. But the danger of Sith influence was always a concern to the council.

Despite what they might discuss with others.

Oftentimes, extreme measures were taken to disrupt the spread of Sith knowledge and teachings. Some would die to keep their secrets and you weren’t one to deny them that wish.

Trained to be sensitive to darkness seemed counterintuitive. It threatened to envelope you and shroud the light at times. It was dangerous to be so close.

The exposure of temptations, of power, fear, and anger, some would say, would make you a hazard among your peers.

A spy is what they call you, with their lips pursed and eyes narrowed in slight disdain. You didn't wear the same golden robes they did; you often mimicked the attire of an old Sith.

Dark muted colors served to deter attention, but the saber at your hip was a reminder to those keen enough to look you over that you were part of the order spread over the republic to maintain peace.

A puff of condensation escapes past your lips, the market was full despite the deep chill that morning. Your robes didn't help from the cold shivers passing through your body.

But you had a feeling the discomfort was more than the frigid temperature.

The dark lured you in. Your efficiency in identifying depended on the innate attraction to it. You could feel the air shift.

You stop mid-step, a deep burning dug into your ribs, your cheeks pinched and your skin puckered. It was calling to you. The crowd around you grumbled as you blocked the middle of the path.

Your hand braced against your saber as a hooded figure roughly bumped past you. So rough your shoulders twisted you out of your stoic composition. Their fingers had skimmed right over the clip of your handle tauntingly.

You pause as they look back, revealing the face of a man with a teasing smile, his hair parted along the sides of his face messily. His eyes roamed over your form, analyzing you for a moment before pursing his lips in contemplation.

He turned and rushed away.

It was then that you realized, as he turned the corner. Your heart sunk to your stomach and your lungs stopped mid breath.

He was coated in it, plunged and dripping. But he was looking for something. He was lured by the same darkness you've been sensing the second you landed.

This was a new challenge. You had to find the Sith remnant first.

…

It should start off the same. You wake up inside the temple of Coruscant, soft footsteps litter outside your door. Low whisperings pass by. The room smells of paper, ink and linen.

It was simple, a window, a desk, and a bunk. There was enough space in your drawers to have changes of robes and civilian clothes.

Nothing unnecessary. You reach beside you disoriented, already knowing where the dream was going to lead.

The tips of your fingers barely reach the familiar metal of the handle of your saber. Your relief was cut short.

Your head pounds. In a blink of an eye the room darkens, it was raining, and your window howled as if the water burned its frames.

The tunic and loose pants that you wore plastered against the front of your body, your arm moves to block the stabbing droplets of cold rain from your face.

Then a flash of red blurs your vision, the corner of your eye catching it briefly before you wince heavily from the heat of it.

You feel it at your throat, your eyes are closed in anticipation of the threat of the blade's proximity.

You tremble and stand frozen as firm muscle snakes up your waist and torso, holding your stomach in place against a broad chest.

It has never gotten this far. You always wake up as soon as the heat creeped up your shoulder and to your neck. Another heat creeps up beside your head, it leans against your temple and rests there.

Strands of dark hair fall beside your face and you shiver. It was him.

He smells like fresh wet dirt, green cuttings and a hint of metal. You can feel the exhale of his breaths warm the top of your cheek.

The buzz of the saber taunts you, unmoving.

“Inspiring. Isn’t it?”

You open your eyes to find yourself in a cavern surrounded by stored relics and antiques. All Sith memorabilia. Your mouth is dry as you speak. You were in a daze of confusion and sleep. Even as you dread to admit it, you were struck with fear.

Your mind could barely catch up.

“What?-”

“Show me where this is,” his voice echoed throughout the stone walls, it made you squirm against his chest.

Your eyes widened, your mind was clearing, and you recognized where you stood. A select few knew where shadow agent's findings were kept.

You stiffened and he could feel you prepare yourself to disarm him. He didn’t want that.

His hold on your stomach tightened, the fabric of your tunic twisting in his grip. His temple pushes against yours and his lips skim past the shell of your ear, shushing gently.

Your heart races, something curls in your stomach as he tsks at your weak attempts at escape. You blame it on exhilaration, not…

You close your eyes tightly and shake your head with a thick swallow. He was clouding your mind somehow. All you could feel was the beat of his heart, the strength of his hand rising underneath your shirt and touching the skin of your belly.

You were surrounded by darkness, locked in and trapped like a loth cat sinking in tar. You had to resist and yet you didn't have the strength to.

He puts his weapon away, his other hand glides atop your arm until he reaches your hand, turning it upright until he could cup it in his palm.

You felt… weak. You can feel him smile against you. The same smile he had in the market.

“You feel it too, don’t you?”

Your ears ring, his lips graze over the soft skin of your neck.

“Let it win," he mutters as he nuzzles against your skin. Your eyes flutter and you exhale shakily.

His hips press against the small of your back. He sucks, you whimper as you shake your head pitifully. You can feel him smile, a hum making your skin erupt in tingling bumps.

He was enjoying watching you squirm weakly, so wavering, so conflicted.

His mouth continues downwards, lightly pecking over the swell of your breasts, returning to their ferocity along your collarbones.

This was only a dream, you repeated in your own thoughts. The hand creeping down your hips, the dark locks you thread your fingers in with acceptance of the pleasure he was giving you.

It had to be a dream.

Fingers slipped underneath the cotton band of your pants. His palm cupped you and flexed. The deep groan of satisfaction he gave, finding you aroused and wet, rumbled through your chest.

His head lifts, his nose bumps into yours and his eyes flicker to your lips. For a few seconds your eyes connect, he smiles playfully.

“I’ll find you.”

The bed springs creaked loudly as you sat up quickly. Your hand went up to your throat, the area feeling sore.

Your skin was tingling, alight by the visions in your dream. With a wince you stand, feeling an ache on your hips from where you were held.

The door to the quarter's restroom slid open loudly enough to make you jump. As you felt around your chest, you could feel more tender spots.

The memory of the mysterious man’s hands flash through your mind. You could almost feel the heat of his mouth, the intention of his touch again.

Shame fills you, these types of interactions were frowned upon, much less with someone so far gone into a path of chaos.

You splash water over your face, the towel feeling rough on your skin. Refreshing. You take deep breaths in, your mind was finally calming.

You almost chuckle from how absurd your night was, you finally look up above the sink.

The reflection on the mirror made your heart stop. Small splotches of raised red and purple were scattered along your neck, your collarbones and over your breasts.

Succumbing to the floor you place your hands over your mouth, trying and failing to will the image of his grin out of your head.

…

A/n update: Reblogs and comments keep authors going, por si no supieran! Please support fics and authors you want to see more of! 🫶❤️

[biblio-smia]

all these pictures of you

tasm! peter parker x reader

summary: the amount of photos peter has of you versus him is a problem you've taken upon yourself to fix

masterlist | requests are open! buy me a ko-fi!

a lazy sunday. a much needed one, considering the bruises peter had collected the night before.

damp air begins creeping out from under the bathroom door just as peter begins washing his hair - you can tell from the familiar crash of the shampoo bottle he always drops.

you fight the feeling of heavy eyes stubbornly, the sound of peter's shower threatening to lull you to sleep without him - only disrupted by the piercing ringing coming from peter's side of the bed.

it takes a while to track the noise of an alarm peter probably forgot to turn off in the mess of duvets, your fingers tapping the screen frantically once you find peter's phone.

there's only one big crack on his screen this time - peter's gotten better at taking care of his phones ever since he started calling you while out on patrol.

your own phone is elsewhere, either left behind in another room or out of battery and you need something to keep you awake until peter gets back. he should be almost done by now but each second feels like an eternity with such soft pillows under your head.

peter's password is muscle memory - if he could get your face to unlock his phone he would. instinct pulls you to the camera app to snap a few stupid photos but curiosity leads you to the contents of the rest of peter's gallery.

it's you, unsurprisingly. other than a few stray screenshots and some beautiful nature shots, it's you. you with a drink in your hand, you watching something on your phone, you with your back turned to peter.

dozens upon dozens, multiple scrolls worth of pictures of you - all of them probably the best anyone's been able to capture of you.

peter takes every picture of you with care - you're not sure there's a single photo where even the lighting looks off. even photos taken in five seconds tops were better work than you could've ever done.

you try to remember how many photos like these you have of peter. there's no shortage of photos of him on your phone but you're pretty positive the closest thing you've ever gotten is the photo currently on your lock screen - peter winking at you through a tall glass.

the bathroom door opens with a creak and peter sighs happily as he pads out of the bathroom, freshly washed and dried hair falling over his forehead even as he tried to push it away.

he's barely out a few seconds before he's jumped into bed with a groan muffled by the thick covers. it's not long before his face appears next to yours, sporting a cozy smile that makes your insides warm.

"watcha looking at?" peter hums, settling against his pillows and attempting to pull you into his arms.

he's surprised at your resistance, questions in his raised eyebrows as you only hum a response and lift yourself to hover over him.

you hoist yourself up and back up, aiming peter's camera carefully.

"what're you doing?" peter laughs, instinctively covering his face.

"shhh," you whisper, pulling peter's hand off carefully. you're really not sure how he does it but you do manage to get some photos of peter with a half-decent composition - though you'd argue that his face makes up for your lack of precision.

you let yourself lean into peter now, back to his chest with his arms wrapped securely around you as you analyze your new pictures. peter is greedy, nudging his nose into your skin right above where he kisses it.

"what's this about, hmm?" peter hums against your skin.

"nothing," you mumble, sending yourself all the photos. "you're just pretty."

peter's quiet, unusually so. his hand comes up from your waist to take his phone back and set it on his nightstand, arms coming to turn you towards him.

he's careful with you, hands holding your face, thumbs rubbing over your cheeks.

"come on, how can i not kiss you for that one?”

[504py]

In Ink, Unsaid - Knight!Leon Kennedy/Reader

Your knight is appointed to tutor you, and he falls asleep during your lesson. It leads to a cute interaction involving his hair.

hell yeah finally got this out!! this one's a lot longer than the first part, i pray it ain't too wordy LOL. once again art by me and hope y'all enjoy!!

Historical inaccuracies, I suck at old-timey speak, reader referred to as "my lady" but no other gendered terms or descriptors besides that, no use of Y/N, mutual pining, almost a Leon character study. It's a little more romantic this time.

1, 2, 3

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

You don't think you've ever seen Leon make a mistake. It unsettles you a little, how much composure and perfection he seems to uphold. You tend to watch him a lot because of it, growing a strange compulsion to always have your eyes on him.

Whenever you see him through a window while passing by, the sight of him slows you down a bit before you continue on your way. Whenever he walks past the room you're in, your eyes dart to his figure on impulse, trying to take in as much information as you can before he's out of your sight. Leon walks too fast, you find yourself thinking a lot.

Paradoxically, when you're close enough to actually see his face, you find yourself unable to look at him. You try to, but he's already staring at you, and he never looks away first, so you do. Whenever you look at him, his eyebrows raise slightly, like he thinks you want something from him when you do. The pressure from it is surprisingly crushing, so you simply cannot imagine holding eye contact with Leon for more than two seconds.

This strange fascination of yours with your new knight has materialized itself in the form of behaviors that might align themselves with a stalker's. You've drunken in all the little details about him. You recognize the sound of his footsteps, the dent in his left vambrace, since he tends to guard his body with that arm, and the moles on his knuckles. Since you can't look at his face when he's actually near you, you've taken to staring at his hands or his feet. He rarely ever shifts his weight between each leg, even if he's been standing for a long time. It makes you more conscious of how you carry yourself... Speaking of posture, he tends to tilt his head to the right slightly when he rests.

Rest and any of its synonyms are words you'd rarely use to describe anything related to Leon. The most you'd seen him do something as relaxed as resting, was that night he sat by your bed till the thunderstorm passed.

So how do you know his habits when he rests? Shockingly, he's doing it right now, in front of you, during your first tutoring session together.

His eyes were rather bloodshot and dull when he entered the library, a feigned intensity in them like he was trying to convince himself he wasn't tired. He knows you notice, but you don't ask about it, and he seems to be glad you did.

"...This arrangement is rather unorthodox, is it not?" You ask as he sits down across from you.

Leon puffs out a little breath, not enough to be a sigh, but noticeable enough. You are unsure if it is out of annoyance.

"I suppose so, my lady, but your mother was the one who appointed me to tutor you today."

You frown a little. It's not like you disliked Leon at all, but you tend to find him a little too... tense to be around. He seems so structured and confident and it makes you afraid to make mistakes around him... Besides that, he's got a really intense stare that doesn't fare well with your nervous composition.

"...Do you dislike having me as your tutor, my lady?" He queries, the faintest hint of doubt and dejection in his voice.

"I–" You try to start, but he cuts you off, "It's not meant to be taken in any personal manner, my lady, but..." He takes in a sharp inhale, realizing he interrupted you and maybe stepped over a line. Leon pauses and watches you carefully, waiting to see if your expression will contort or if you'll start to reprimand him.

...You just avert your eyes, so he continues.

"Perhaps you'd fare better with someone you were more comfortable with... my lady."

You bite the inside of your cheek. "I'm rather alright, Sir Leon. I apologize for complaining."

"Forgive me for pushing, my lady, but you always feel rather tense around me. Is that for any particular reason? Perhaps I could help."

"I, uh..." Your gaze falls to your lap, "I'm just not sure why mother chose you. Your schedule is rather full as it is, is it not, Sir Leon?"

"Well, I can promise you I'm very well-educated, my lady." He says, but as he observes, it doesn't do much to soothe your nerves.

"...Spending more time with you is always a pleasure to me, my lady. I promise that to you too."

That wrinkle between your eyebrows soften, and your shoulders drop.

Leon does surprisingly well as a tutor. You suppose it's because of his rugged impression that you thought the opposite, but even the way he speaks is well-constructed and seems to have been planned in advance.

If your mother had never appointed Leon as your tutor today, you'd never have really noticed how calming his voice can be. Whenever he's spoken, it always sounded like a command, even if he's trying his best to be respectful. His voice usually comes off too strong, too deep in his chest, too loud sometimes, too much authority. Usually you tend to shrink in your skin a little whenever he speaks, but now, he sounds so relaxed that you feel like he could lull you to sleep at any moment.

Ah– it seems he's beat you to the chase, though.

It took you a little too long to notice, but Leon has fallen asleep in front of you, cheek resting against his right fist and his left hand still resting on the book's page.

You freeze up, not wanting to do anything that'd wake him up. You understand that a tutor falling asleep in front of a student would be highly inappropriate, but you still felt that it would be rude to wake him. Is he a light sleeper? You wonder how exhausted he must be to fall asleep in such an uncomfortable situation, and it makes your heart ache.

He's breathing lightly, you wait a bit, see if he'll wake up on his own. Maybe it's just your own excuse to watch him while you can.

His eyelashes are a lot longer than you thought, and you don't think you've ever seen him without that crease between his brows, and an almost-scowl on his lips. Leon's hair was of a color and style that confused you. Some days it felt brown, sometimes it was blond, or something in between. You've convinced yourself it depended on his mood or the weather. As for the length... the fringe always seemed to obscure his eyes slightly, so you've always wondered why he didn't just cut it. Especially when he wears his helmet, and he makes a bit of a fuss when his bangs get pinned underneath his visor.

Unconsciously, you've been reaching forward to brush away the strand of hair hanging in front of his nose, hoping to get a better look of his face.

Leon's eyes flutter open, his pupils adjusting to the light before they dilate as they settle on you. Your arm flinches back to your side.

He mumbles your name, intimately, no honorifics or titles, and your face warms.

"I– Leon– Sir Leon, hello," You breathe out shakily, "You fell asleep."

The message takes a few seconds to reach his just-woken-up brain, before his eyes widen and he immediately sits up properly.

Words come spilling out of his mouth, this is the first time you've seen him stutter. "I'm so sorry– I'm incredibly sorry, my lady, I apologize for my inappropriate behavior, I don't know why I dared to do such a thing, and why I keep making mistakes today–"

"Leon."

He bites on his tongue and his eyes are slightly wide as he stares at you.

"...It's alright, I promise."

The tips of his ears are a bright red, and that same flush seems to be creeping up from under his shirt collar to his neck. He takes in a few deep breaths, and he looks unsure. This is the second time you've seen him wear this look now. He takes in a deep breath.

"I... I apologize, my lady." He bows his head towards you. The roots of his hair were a deeper brown compared to the rest of his locks. You wonder if he's not even a real blond. Perhaps hours of staying under the sun lightened his hair.

You space out staring at him, and Leon straightens his neck. He can't recall maintaining eye contact with you for this long, and it makes his abdomen feel warm, even if he knows you're not really all there.

"My lady?"

You finally blink, and at the realization your blank-eyed gaze settled on him, your eyes widen and you immediately look elsewhere. You decide to rest your sight on his hands.

"Is there something wrong with my hair?" His fingers twitch, slightly restless.

"I... What makes you say that, Sir Leon?"

"You've been eyeing the top of my head for a while. I felt your hand near my face while I was waking up, as well, my lady."

Your heart skips a beat, and the way your blink catches for a second and the way you seem to choke on your spit isn't missed by the knight-now-tutor across from you.

"I-It's quite alright, my lady." He rushes out, his heart dropping at that look on your face. He's not even sure what's "alright", but he just wanted to offer you any bit of comfort so things don't escalate, in the fear he was too forward with confronting you.

He remembers the musings of his fellow knights about his hair, about how could he see with all that bother, how it could get in the way during combat, or how it just looked a little funny. Truth be told, his hair was the result of continuously forgetting to go get a haircut because he fixated so much on work, but now he keeps it out of spite. Leon insists he can do perfectly fine to anyone who says otherwise, but if it's you...

Leon breathes in slightly, and his hands move away from your line of vision. You follow them, and he's pushing his fringe back as much as he can. He's trying to tuck it behind his ears, and it almost makes you laugh, how gentle the gesture is, then you realize how beautiful he actually looks. Your cheeks warm, and you cannot look away.

"Is this better, my lady?" He asks, strangely demure in his demeanor.

You chuckle, and his heart soars at the noise, "You missed a spot." you comment, before your hand raises for a second, nearing his face.

"Ah– May I?"

"Of course, my lady." The devotion leaking from his voice is punctuated by the mole on his adam's apple bobbing as he swallows.

Your fingers are slightly shaky as they clear the few strands of hair he couldn't pin back. The pads of your fingers graze his forehead, and he takes in a sharp breath. Physical contact between you two was relegated to holding onto his hand when he assisted you, and nothing more, so he wasn't a stranger to it. So he can't really understand why such a tiny act has such an effect on him.

You sit back, properly look at him, and smile. He feels slightly shy under your scrutiny, but he hopes you find him good-looking at the very least. He does have the face to pull off shorter hair, but something about it felt like you were seeing him naked. He felt under-decorated without his fussy hair.

"Mm... I think you look best just as you are."

Leon breathes out a little laugh accompanied by the toothiest smile you've seen on him thus far, which really isn't much, but it comes off just as endearing. The bags under his eyes seem to disappear as his eyes turn into happy crescents. Adoration is dancing around in his pale blue irises, and in the reflection of his dilated pupils, it's only you.

"Thank you, my lady... It makes me happy to hear that."

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

[aynavaano]

Tell me you want me

Hunter x f!reader

Rating: Explicit/NSFW

Wordcount: 3.5k

Summary:

You’re part of Clone Force 99 since a while and have an eye on your Sarge ever since you joined. When you are left alone with him skinny dipping in natural hot springs, things get steamy.

Notes:

Enjoy this little Hunterxf!reader smutlet while we all anxiously wait for the final episode to drop. Reader is part of the squad, she is their medic and has a nickname. All other Batchers make an appearance too. We have fingering and unprotected sex. All happening in the water.

As the sun begins its descent, casting long shadows across the landscape, you and the squad finally retreat back into the Marauder, weary from another grueling day of repairs after your crash landing a few rotations ago. Dropping your tools with a clatter in the corner, you sink down onto the floor, feeling the exhaustion seep into your bones. The day's work has left you covered in a film of sweat and grime, your skin sticky with oil and dust, again.

"If I have to endure one more shower with that recycled water, I swear..." you mutter under your breath, frustration lacing your words. Despite the pressing need to fill up your rations and change the water in the Marauders system or at least the filters, there was no way off this kriffing rock before you got the ship back up and running. The overly recycled water, depleted and stale, left you feeling far worse than without a shower since the last days.

Suddenly, Tech's voice cuts through the exhaustion, his tone matter-of-fact as he suggests an alternative. "There are geothermal hot springs just a couple of clicks south from here, they are perfectly safe to utilize for personal hygiene," he remarks, drawing everyone's attention.

Wrecker's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "So that's where you've been sneaking off to in the evenings," he says, earning a knowing nod from Tech.

"Why didn't you mention THAT before?" you inquire, taken aback by the revelation. Tech shrugs nonchalantly.

"Nobody asked me and you all seemed content with the ship's refresher,besides I didn’t sneak off I just went there, " he replies simply, earning an eye-roll from Crosshair and a sigh from Hunter.

"Well, looks like we're all going tonight," Hunter declares, scanning the room as everyone nods eagerly. However, Tech interjects with an apologetic tone.

"Except for Echo. I'm sorry, but the mineral composition of the water isn't compatible with your mechanical parts." Echo sighs resignedly.

"Well, Someone has to watch the ship anyway," he remarks, grabbing a ration bar before retreating to the cockpit.

Watching him leave, Hunter urges everyone else to gather their essentials as you prepare for the trip to the hot springs.

Following Tech's lead, you traverse through a dense thicket of trees and across a rugged terrain, the distant plumes of steam already signaling the promise of warm, rejuvenating waters.

When you finally arrive at the steaming natural pools, happiness surges through your veins, eager to immerse yourself in the warm, relaxing waters. You swiftly cast your bag aside and quickly shed your clothes, opting for a skinny dip - a necessity, given that swimwear isn’t something provided by the GAR. But the night is dark enough to conceal your naked body, the dense steam rising from the water further obscuring any view.

As the squad's medic, you've seen them in various states of undress during countless check-ups or emergencies, but you've managed to maintain your own privacy, determined not to stir up any trouble within the group. However, you can’t deny that you have a weak spot for your Sergeant ever since you joined them and enjoyed patching him up a bit too much.

The sound of water splashing nearby interrupts your thoughts, and you turn to see Wrecker paddling around eagerly. "Come on in Mini, it's amazing. We won't peek, I promise," he assures you with a boisterous grin. You chuckle at the affectionate nickname he gave you a while ago, and the others quickly adopted, not wrongly, given that you are barely more than half his size.

With a contented sigh, you lower yourself into the soothing embrace of the hot spring, feeling the tension melt away from your weary muscles. The clean, refreshing sensation of the water provides a stark contrast to the sticky residue left behind by the Marauder's recycled water and it feels incredibly good to finally get rid of it.

Occasionally, a gentle breeze disperses the swirling steam, offering you fleeting glimpses of your crew mates. Your gaze lingers on Hunter, captivated by the droplets cascading from his tousled hair, now freed from his bandana. You trace the lines of his tattoo down over his broad chest as they disappear beneath the surface of the dark water. Despite your best efforts to remain discreet, you find yourself locked in a momentary exchange of gazes with Crosshair, his piercing eyes betraying a knowing awareness.

Your breath catches in your throat as Crosshair maintains his gaze, his lips curling into a sly grin. Wrecker interjects, attempting to diffuse the tension. "Cut it out, Crosshair. You're making her uncomfortable. We promised not to look," he scolds, casting a wary glance in your direction.

“You did” Crosshair hisses at Wrecker before turning his attention back to you, his tone teasing. "Like what you see, Mini?" he quips, his confidence evident, that smug bastard you think to yourself and attempt to muster a confident response in return, but the slight tremor in your voice is betraying you. "Nothing I haven't seen while patching you all up," you retort, hoping to deflect his attention.

“Sure” he groans with a mischievous glint in his eyes but thankfully, he decides to let the matter drop, and you exhale a silent sigh of relief, sinking deeper into the warm embrace of the water, trying to hide your reddened cheeks. Casting a fleeting glance skyward, you marvel at the sight of two moons ascending over the horizon, casting a serene silvery blue glow over the landscape.

Before long, Tech emerges from the water, signaling for the group to prepare to depart. You, however, are reluctant to leave the comforting embrace of the hot springs just yet.

"Already? Can't we stay a bit longer?" you plead, attempting to negotiate for more time.

"It was ample time to get clean," Tech responds, his tone firm. "And we have another full day of repairs before we can leave this planet. You need at least seven standard hours of sleep to—"

You cut him off, feeling frustration bubbling up. "Stop it, Tech," you interject firmly, your disappointment evident.

"I'm only concerned for your well-being," Tech counters, his concern genuine.

"I know, I'm sorry," you answer, softening your tone. "I didn't mean to sound so annoyed. It's just... I can't remember the last time we had something like this. I'd like to soak in the warm water a bit longer. My whole body is sore from our crash, and this feels so good," you explain, hoping to convey your genuine need for relaxation.

Tech hesitates. “I understand, but it’s too dangerous to leave you here alone, besides the way back to the Marauder is …”.

"It's okay, Tech. You go. I'll stay here with her," a voice rings through the thick steam from behind you.

Hunter.

Your heart skips a beat at his unexpected offer, a rush of warmth flooding through you at the thought of him and you being here alone.

It takes a moment for the rest of them to processes his proposition. Finally, Tech breaks the silence "That is an acceptable solution," he states, his usual pragmatic tone cutting through the night.

Relieved you allow yourself to sink back into the soothing warmth of the hot springs, the steam enveloping you like a comforting embrace. In the background, you hear the others bustling about, dressing and gathering their belongings. Amidst the activity, you catch snatches of conversation and you could swear you heard Wrecker grumbling that he also wants to stay, interrupted by a sharp retort from Crosshair.

"Alright," Tech announces, drawing your attention. "We're heading back. I'll leave the comm open in case of unforeseen events. Regardless, please remember it is not recommended to stay longer than two standard hours in water with this temperature" and with that, the group begins their trek back to the Marauder, leaving you and Hunter alone in the quiet of the night.

As the sounds of their footsteps fade into the distance, a slightly uncomfortable silence descends, punctuated only by the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze. It’s not the first time you’re alone with Hunter, but THIS, this is different and you are trying to control your heartbeat knowing very well that he can pick that up with his heightened senses.

“Thank you for staying with me Hunter” you whisper through the thick steam wafting over the pool. The thought of him naked in the water, just a few steps away from you sends a shiver through your whole body and you feel the heat pooling between your legs.

Stars, stay calm you try to control the visions overtaking you, flashes of his naked body and his hands all over you flickering through your mind.

You try to catch another glimpse at him past the billowing steam and through an opening you see him slowly treading through the water towards you, his eyes locking on yours, a look of concern on his face. The water reaches barely up to his lower stomach, exposing an ungodly amount of his luscious body, his caramel skin, toned chest and a tempting trail of hair running down his abdomen now illuminated by the silvery glow of the moons, you can’t break your gaze away but you are close to loosing control completely now.

“For someone happily relaxing in a hot bath your heart rate is concerningly high. Are you uncomfortable? Did you change your mind, do you want me to take you back to the Marauder?”

“No, I…I want to stay” is all you can stumble. Him being so concerned and caring is only adding fuel to the fire already burning inside you.

Hunter is right before you now, scanning your face for any signs of distress but the only thing he finds is your bright pink cheeks and dilated pupils.

He carefully brushes a loose strand of your hair from your face, his hand lingering a bit too long to go unnoticed.

“Is this because of me?” he whispers softly, a hint of trepidation in his voice. He lost count of how often he wanted to ask you this, when he felt your heart jump at his touch, when he sensed your eyes lingering on him, but he didn’t dare, knowing a no would destroy him. So he decided to remain oblivious instead of getting hurt. Until now.

You gaze up at him and there is no denying anymore, no hiding, so you nod, not able to voice what you feel for him. That you want him so badly.

And before you know whats happening his lips are on yours. His kiss is soft but quickly getting hungrier and messier. He pulls you closer to him sliding one arm around your waist and you intuitively wrap your legs around him feeling his already hardening cock pressing against your core.

He gasps at the sensation of you grinding your hips against him and breaks away from the kiss, looking deep into your eyes.

“Tell me you want this," Hunter's voice is a low, urgent whisper, his breath hot against your skin. "Tell me you want me."

You lean back in to kiss him, desperate for his lips on yours and hungry for more but he breaks away again, searching your face for an answer.

“I’m your Sarge, I don’t want to take advantage of you, I need to hear you say it. Say you want me and I’ll give you everything.”

Your heart pounds in your chest as you meet his intense gaze. "I do, Hunter," you reply without hesitation, your voice barely above a whisper. "I want nothing more than you."

Before you can even finish your words, he pulls you closer again, his arms wrapping around you possessively. The warmth of his embrace fueling your hunger for him and when his lips crash against yours in another searing kiss, you melt into him completely, his tongue trailing along your lips pleating for access.

Your tongues entwine and Hunter's touch feeds the fire within you, every caress sending sparks of heat coursing through your veins. You feel his hands hungrily roaming over your body, down your chest, gently cupping your breasts, leaving a trail of longing wherever they touch you.

His hands slide down to your hips, one hand cupping your ass, pulling you closer as his lips trail down your neck, leaving a line of open mouthes kisses and soft bites in their wake. With each movement, you feel yourself melting into him, your body craving more of his touch and your pussy aching desperately for his attention.

"Stars, you feel amazing," Hunter murmurs against your skin, his voice husky with desire. "I've been wanting this for so long."

A soft moan escapes your lips at his words, the sound mingling with the gentle lapping of the water around you. You feel his fingers trailing down to your throbbing core and you can't help but arch into his touch, desperately yearning for more.

He carefully slides his fingers between your slick folds, teasing your clit with a slow gentle rhythm that leaves you gasping for breath. Each stroke sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body, quickly building a tension that threatens to unravel you completely in his arms.

He keeps you steady, his strong arms easily holding you up, the water flowing around you, fingers trailing through your slit and finally with a slow, deliberate motion, he slides one finger inside you, giving you a taste of what you so desperately want. You gasp at the sensation of him entering you and arch into his hand, aching for more friction.

"Stars, you're so wet for me," Hunter whispers, his voice low and breathless.

You can't help but beg for more, craving the sensation of him deep inside you, filling you up completely. And as he picks up the pace and slides in another finger, you feel your body tightening, getting ready to explode with pleasure.

"Kriff, I love how responsive you are to my touch." he whispers in your ear, nibbling on your neck.

You let out a few lewd moans and gasps at his words, the sensation of his fingers driving you completely crazy. With each thrust, you feel yourself spiraling closer and closer to the edge, the pleasure becoming almost unbearable in its intensity. The tension in your core almost reaching it’s snapping point, two fingers pushing inside you and his thumb rubbing your clit.

And then, with a flick of his wrist, Hunter finds that perfect spot that sends you hurtling over the edge, your body convulsing with the force of your release. Waves of ecstasy wash over you, rippling through your whole body, leaving you trembling in the wake of your orgasm as you cling to him for support.

“Stars, do you know how beautiful you look cuming all over my fingers?” he moans against your skin, looking at you as if you’re the most precious thing in the galaxy.

He slowly slides his fingers out of you to steady you against his chest while you catch your breath. You let out a low whine when he slips out of your core, leaving you feeling empty, and immediately desperate for more. You fumble around trying to reach his cock but he firmly holds you up, both hands under your thighs, his face buried between your breasts.

“Hungry, are we?” he grins up at you, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth and sliding his fingers over your wet folds aching to be stretched again, drawing a couple of lewd sounds from you.

You tilt your head back when he captures your other nipple between his teeth and finally pulls you closer until you're straddling him in the water, your bodies pressed together in a heated embrace. You feel the pressure of his rock hard cock straining against your core, fueling your hunger for him even more.

"I need you," you whisper, your voice barely above a breathless moan, impatiently wiggling around in his arms to line him up at your entrance. When he carefully bites down on your neck, leaving a mark, while squeezing your breast with one hand, you are completely loosing any kind of self control, you might as well just beg.

"Hunter, kriff…please…fuck me"

He looks up finding your gaze and without a word, he guides himself inside you with a single deep thrust, his huge cock stretching you in all the right ways as he fills you completely. You gasp at the sensation of your pussy stretching around him, your body arching into his as he begins to move, each thrust giving you more of what you’ve been longing for ever since you joined the squad. He starts slowly, not far from teasing you, pulling out almost completely a few times, until only his tip rest inside you and then slamming back in until he is buried to the hilt.

The water around you amplifies every sensation, the gentle rocking motion only adding to the intensity of his thrusts. He increases his pace and with each push of his hips against yours, you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable peak, your pussy already clenching around him.

“Fuck, not gonna last long like this” he groans “ …y..you feel too good around my cock…so tight…been dreaming about this too often…”

"I'm close," you whimper, your voice barely above a desperate plea. "Please, Hunter, don't stop."

With a low growl against your neck, he increases the intensity, each thrust pushing you further towards the brink of oblivion. You cling to him, nails digging into his back, grinding your hips against his, to take him as deep as possible until you feel the tip of his cock deliciously pressing against your cervix with every thrust. You wrap your arms around his neck your fingers finding hold in his hair, as you begin shaking, and with a shuddering gasp, you feel the tension in you snap and the first wave of pleasure crashing over you with an intensity you haven’t felt before, stars exploding before your eyes, your whole body trembling as you ride out the waves of your orgasm on his cock without slowing down.

He keeps fucking you through your high, drawing more moans and gasps from you until you feel him tense too, his length pressing even harder against your walls.

“Where do you want me?” he gasps.

“Inside” is all you can get out with a loud moan, your pussy still clenching around his cock and you feel Hunter's own release echoing yours, his body trembling with the force of his orgasm. With a final thrust, he spills himself inside you, filling you to the brim with his warm cum as you both ride out the waves of pleasure ripping through you together.

You cling to each other, panting, your bodies pressed together in a sweet embrace as you bask in the afterglow of your lovemaking. You let your fingers trail through his hair and softly trace the lines of his tattoo looking at him in awe, completely blissed out. He let’s his forehead rest against yours and you are exchanging soft loving kisses when you suddenly hear your comms crackle from somewhere beside the pool.

“Hunter are you listening… Hunter…Mini… “

“noooo Tech…leave them” you hear clattering and a voice in the background

“Hunter do you hear me? Even though Crosshair suggested you are not solely bathing but possibly engaging in intercourse I recommend you get out of the water. The time you spent there is unacceptable and will negatively affect your blood circulation. Mini… I’m sure you know that, you’re the medic. Do you hear me? It’s clearly been too long. Get out of ther…” the comm crackles again, weird noises and mumbling in the background until you hear Crosshair.

“Sorry for the interruption Sarge, I couldn’t stop him, just give us a sign when you’re headed back” and with that the comm falls silent again.

You can’t help but blush, feeling a bit exposed before the whole squad not even knowing where this is going or if it was just a one time thing. You desperately hope it’s not, when you said you want him, you meant it but you’re to afraid to ask how he is feeling, so you just revel in the heat radiating from his body drinking up every scent, every detail while it lasts, legs still wrapped around his waist, holding him close, fingers trailing trough his hair. Hunter nestles his head in your neck, pulling you even closer to his chest, leaving a few soft kisses along the way while his softening cock is slowly slipping out of you.

“Let’s get back to the Marauder then” he murmurs against your skin, “at least it seems they already suspect whats going on and appear to be ok with us being together…sleep in my bunk tonight?”

Your heart beams at his question, pounding in your chest.

“Guess that’s a yes” he chuckles, giving you one last loving kiss before he sets you on the edge of the pool to get ready for heading back to the ship.

[david-talks-sw]

"If it's amazing, they'll know."

When talking about "George Lucas' vision" and the original six Star Wars films, there's one thing to bear in mind and that's Lucas' style of filmmaking.

These are movies for kids, designed to emulate the Saturday matinee serial format from the '30s, à la Flash Gordon. You see this most of all in the dialog. But something else you notice is George Lucas' filmmaking style, particularly in how he films and edits.

Take Darth Vader's introduction, for example.

Look at the composition: Vader stands tall, in contrast to the - as the script puts it - "fascist white armored suits of the Imperial stormtroopers". They're all in white, he's all in black, he's bigger badder, emerging from a cloud of smoke. What an entrance.

But if you think about it, it's just a single full shot. Very basic.

Compare this to Kenobi, wherein Vader is treated like a monster out of a horror movie. First, you glimpse his shadow, people reacting...

... then ominous bits and pieces like his boots or his lightsaber...

... and finally Vader himself, in all his terrifying glory.

That's a modern way of shooting it and it admittedly makes ol' Darth seem that much more imposing and absolutely badass.

But Lucas comes from a background of editing, experimental filmmaking and used to work as a documentary cameraman.

So what he did is just put the camera down and have Vader walk in. It's a faster yet differently-efficient way to introduce the character. It's more about dynamic pacing and visuals.

And that is Lucas' style. In his words:

"The way these films were put together, they're shot very much like a documentary film and the action of stage, and then I shoot around it. I don't stage for the camera. And as a result, there are a lot of things that happen pretty much by accident. It lends an aura of authenticity to everything." - Star Wars - Episode I: Podracing Featurette, 1999

Another example: the introduction of General Grievous.

A door opens revealing his ugly mug and he walks in. Boom.

But in Star Wars Storyboards: The Prequel Trilogy, you find that - as envisioned by the storyboard artists - our introduction to Grievous would've been very different.

"We wanted to have the introduction to Grievous be a series of really close shots that would be a series of details: his creepy foot, his creepy hand...

... his scary alien eyes...

... but George brought up an interesting point. He didn't want the film to concentrate on one design detail or one element— but rather let the world be there and let the viewer find those things without necessarily having it shoved in their face." - Derek Thompson, SW Storyboards: The Prequel Trilogy, 2013

"George nixed the idea, saying: 'I don't want something to be special because of how it's filmed, but because of what it is. Just put the camera on it and let it play out in front of the audience. If it's amazing, they'll know.'" - Iain McCaig, SW Storyboards: The Prequel Trilogy, 2013

That's it in a nutshell. "If it's amazing, they'll know."

The above storyboards look awesome and seeing Grievous be introduced that way would be great... but it wouldn't be Lucas' Star Wars. It would be some other director taking a crack at it.

And this way of shooting can be weird, even boring, at times. I mean compare Mace leading his troops into battle...

... to Aragorn leading his, in Return of the King.

The latter is so much more emotionally impactful. For a number of reasons (eg: Aragorn is a deuteragonist, Mace is a secondary character with less development), but one of them is that the moment is just shot in a way that's more interesting.

First we have an angle on Aragorn as he smiles and charges. Then the rest of the other characters as they react and follow suit, then the troops do the same.

With Mace it's, uh, *checks notes* he flourishes his saber and charges, the clones follow. Hell, for half a second we're looking at just an empty screen.

But y'know what the shot does look like?

It looks like something out of a WW1 documentary.

It's that authenticity he was mentioning further up.

At the end of the day, you can call it campy or bad... it's Lucas' style. It's cinema. There's a logic to it.

"To me, the script is just a sketchbook, just a list of notes, and, sometimes, I prefer the documentary feel of free flow, so I let my instincts tell me where to go. I like to create cinematically; I don't like to have a plan. I like to have a rough idea of what I'm going to do-certain themes, certain issues I'm going to deal with-and then I try to do so." - The Making of Revenge of The Sith, page 116, 2005

He doesn't try to make a character look particularly badass with camera angles or make the shot too choreographed, he just goes with the flow, and makes the deliberate choice to shoot it that way, because for better or for worse... it's his movie.

So yeah, just a tidbit I thought would be interesting.

Edit:

@schilkeman added this very interesting point in the replies:

"He doesn’t stage for the camera, but he does compose for the camera. The documentary style, while somewhat detached, requires the filling of the screen with motion and light. The way things move through frame seem very important to him. These are things his films excel at."

[difficultdomains]

code red

pairing: geto suguru x reader

synopsis/cw: on your way home from work, you spot a very mysterious stranger. sfw. no warnings. inspired by code red - darci.

wc: 1k

your body feels like it‘s made out of lead.

the overcrowded train you take home every day seems to be even more packed than usual, every jolt and shake of the carriage pushing more bodies into your already scarce personal space. irritation sits heavy on your shoulders, rising exponentially while your knuckles start turning white around the handrail you're gripping for dear life. your head throbs with a headache, and you yearn for nothing more than to massage your temples when the next stop is announced through the blown-out speakers of the train.

you curse the laws of physics when the driver hits the brakes a little too hard, inevitably crashing you into a guy in a suit, who gives you a tight-lipped sympathetic look when you mutter your apology. the doors open open with a thud, allowing a good - but nowhere near sufficient - amount of people to push past you and get off the train, leaving you with a tiny bit more space than before. you use your limited range of motion wisely, fishing out your phone from your pocket to skip the overplayed song currently blaring through your ear buds.

as you stuff your phone back, your eyes flicker upwards, a reflex - and you're stuck, immediately.

the corridor definitely blocking had been slightly cleared, just enough for you to spot the tall, dark-haired man standing across from you. inky black cascades down his shoulders, bangs falling into his face while he‘s looking down at his phone.

the sudden urge to take a couple steps back floods you, making you hyperaware of your inability to do so. the impulse stays and surges, pulsing through your muscles and causing you to tense up involuntarily. your brows knit together at your skittish reaction. must be your brain firing on its last cylinders. you really need to catch up on some sleep.

unaware of the alarm bells going off in your head, he continues scrolling, easily blending into a crowd of drained faces and unfazed stares. dressed in all black, it almost appears like a choice, an active attempt at not standing out in any way - but to you, he still does - a vague, prickly feeling settling in your stomach for no apparent reason.

you don't look away - you can't - like spotting a spider in the corner of your bedroom, you refuse to allow yourself to lose sight of him lest he disappears - or worse, comes closer. carefully you try to feel out your surroundings, the slightest change in atmosphere would be enough to confirm that you‘re not the only one experiencing this sudden bout of diffuse dismay - but you‘re only met with a poorly suppressed yawn. your heartbeat claws its way up, thrumming in your throat and you find yourself impatient for this commute to be over even more than before.

his thumb stills and he freezes for a moment. your jaw clenches.

and as if someone had called his name, he looks up - to you.

his eyes meet yours and gravity shifts, attaching itself to a point behind his dark irises. he looks at you unabashed, with no trace of the usual awkwardness one would display when catching someone staring in public. you're spellbound, unable to look away and react like you normally would.

with the sole intent of deciphering his intentions, you let your gaze flit across his face. you're determined to keep your expression stoic, defensive even - but the game he's playing is painfully unfair.

he's pure equilibrium.

high cheekbones against fox-like slanted eyes, the soft curve of his lips contrasted by the sharp line of his jaw. his features flow together like a masterfully written composition, merging in a way that you can't deny is just- strangely alluring.

with your wariness slowly tipping over into interest, your complete attention concentrates within the lines of his silhouette. and he holds it effortlessly, as if he's used to having curious eyes on him at all times.

the sudden pull you feel towards this strange man leaves you winded, ears ringing with white noise instead of the music still playing in your ears. this whole situation is giving you whiplash, sweaty palms making it hard for you to keep holding on and your symptoms only worsening when the point of contact between you is suddenly lost.

his eyes drop down and you almost shiver despite the stuffiness inside the train. he doesn’t linger, but instead lets himself trail up your body with agonizing attention. he‘s measured and deliberate, as if he‘s trying to savor you piece by piece, leaving behind blazing disruption in the wake of his gaze. the heat reaches your face in time with his magnetic eyes and once again you lock into place.

a knowing smile dances around his lips, accompanied by a glint of something you‘re not sure you fully understand.

the doors rip open again with a startling bang.

when did the train even stop? is the last thought you manage before the usual orderly chaos ensues as passengers start pushing their way through towards the exit. you move to the side as much as you can, squinting your eyes shut to lessen the overstimulation of being jostled by way too many people.

once you feel secure enough to open them again, you find the train is no longer packed - and the mysterious stranger is gone.

there’s no denying the pang in your chest when your sudden infatuation deflates as quickly as it came on. you blink, several times, shaking your head slightly to try and reassure yourself that this was, in fact, not some weird delusion you‘ve talked yourself into. the rest of your journey home remains tauntingly uneventful, but you remain caught in the webs of your mind. the feeling in your stomach builds into something unsteady without a name. is it dread - or astonishment? maybe you‘re just confused. the only thing you know for sure is, that while you want to chase it, you‘re not sure if you can handle the aftertaste.

your stop is announced through the speakers and with that, the realization comes. it‘s remorse.

you feel like you‘ve missed out on something.

once again, the doors close and the train sets into motion before you can even move a muscle.

a/n: aaaand scene - this finally concludes my long ass writer‘s block. i have a whole little AU in my head and this was just the beginning hehe

[rottmnt-residuum]

Sorry if this is too unrelated or something, but do you have any tips for comic composition? I absolutely adore how you frame everything, from the backgrounds, to the bubble placement, to the way the colors seem to fit together in each panel, and I've always been curious about how you do it

if this is too vague/overcomplicated I understand, I love your work and hope you're doing well <3

Hm... well. Honestly, most of my composition comes from transcribing the animation of residuum that's happening in my head. Which is why, if any of y'all've noticed, residuum is framed a bit like a movie. So if you're looking to do something similar, I'd recommend either studying camera techniques, or watching movie analysis with a focus on camera work. I'm unfortunately a bad person to ask, as a lot of what I do just comes via practice that's turned to instinct.

This is a really good resource on page compositions in general, though I mostly do panel by panel stuff for my own ease:

The background style is actually directly inspired from @meandtheyeehaws, it's fast, easy, and doesn't require too much thought on my part. You spend a lot of time on comics, so you take shortcuts where you're willing to.

Bubble placement... I've noticed that people tend to laser focus on dialogue. So, the dialogue bubbles are how you lead the reader's eyes. They are the very base of the reader's eye path. All this means is that you should just map the eye path you want and then frame everything else around that. Either to bring notice to stuff or to hide something in plain sight.

Honestly, I have no idea for the color thing. It's one of the things I actually wish the comic was better with. All I do is have set color swatches for characters, and do a transparent color mask to the background color. I love to color, but color itself isn't really my strong suit.

[trashmouth-richie]

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞: 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐢 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: eddie takes a drive down memory lane, a situationship is revealed, clove finds herself in some harrowing situations in a feeble attempt to cope with eddie’s return.

𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: dark! fic, dark themes, ddlg type of relationship but not what you would think, controlling behavior in a relationship, controlling finances type of abuse, narcissist behavior, emotional abuse, hint at sex trafficking/ trading sex for business 18+. drug use/addiction etc.

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

That night Eddie didn’t sleep. 

He watched your figure bounce to what he assumed was the dressing room as he sat in solemn silence for what felt like a decade, your eyes engraved into his. 

Jeff understood, or rather wasn’t too upset when Eddie called it a night, dropping off the beers you had poured. He was preoccupied with one of the girls, twirling her pigtails as she sat in his lap, crimson lip stains on his deep cheeks. 

The sweet dew of spring night air met him as he pushed the door to the club open, letting the night’s darkness swallow him as he crunched through the gravel to his motorcycle. 

Turning the opposite direction from where he should have been heading, Eddie cranks the handlebars to head downtown. The lonely hotel mattress could wait another hour before he slipped his body into the pilling worn sheets. 

The steady rap of his bike hammered into his chest as he drove down the broken unwelcoming streets of Hawkins. Down town was desolate, the Radio shack was boarded up and closed, graffiti tagged and windows shattered. Melvald’s windows showed handwritten posters for heavily discounted items. Newspapers tumbled along and caught on light poles, Hawkins resembled a town post apocalypse. 

He couldn’t remember what it used to look like. 

Back then his biggest worry was leaving and taking you with him. For all he knew, Hawkins could have always looked like this. Getting you away from here, that was the only thing on his mind. 

Pushing the thoughts away he cranked the throttle and sped through the streets, unconsciously driving further, his memory taking over. 

He drove past Hawkins High, vague memories formed like wisps of smoke around the parking lot. A younger version of him and you sitting in his van listening to his new Motörhead cassette before Higgins would eventually stroll the parking lot and hand out each of you detentions. 

Hawkins Middle School where he doodled in the margins of his composition book and passed you notes about Mr. Walter’s toupee. Your giggle hidden behind chipped fingernails and a fresh tattoo, eyes squeezed tight to stop from laughing. The memory burned a hole in his heart.

The familiarity drove him on, leading the path down to where you and him used to call home. 

The dust kicked up when his tires wove around the gaping holes of the driveway to Forest Hills Trailer Park. His chest was tight, all air punched from his lungs at what lay before him. 

The trailer he once called home was standing like a decrepit omen. The tires it rested on were flat, wires bulging from the rotting rubber. The entire trailer had sunk into the soft earth beneath it, creating a funhouse effect to the back side, putting it on a tilt. 

The windows that weren’t busted out by rocks were covered with foil, a cheap attempt to keep the sun out. 

What was left of the aluminum siding glistened in the moonlight, taunting him. 

From the way the door stood wide open, and the accumulation of last falls foliage littering the entryway, he guessed that no one lived here anymore—save for the fat mice that kept the trailer cats fed. 

Years of decay and neglect replaced any sort of nostalgia he would have felt being back here. The bad memories came easy, it was the happy ones that he had to dig for. 

Glancing behind him he didn’t notice it at first. The frail frame of a burnt trailer. The roof was swallowed in on itself, charred and soot surrounding the dead grass. Whatever caused this fire had taken the trailer fast, engulfing its matchbox body like kindling. 

His one tiny flicker of hope that maybe you still lived here, maybe he could catch you when you weren’t working, was put out like this fire surely wasn’t. 

Ghost flames danced in his eyes as he blinked back tears. The agony of years away filled him with grief. He didn’t grieve for his loss. He had no reason to. Al Munson was the last person he needed closure from. He hoped for his death. Wished for it. Hoping that some inner dimensional being would crush him like a coke can. But he’d never get that lucky. 

People like his dad, and yours, seemed to live forever. Cockroach luck with bodies that were pickled by alcoholism— they’d roam until they saw ninety, tainting everyone they got close to, poisoning their veins and stealing their dreams.

As he rode away, tears spilled down his face, not for him and his misfortunes. But for you. A little girl lost. A girl he had failed. 

—

1974

ping, clink

You could hear the radio through his bedroom window, the new * tape he had bought  crooning out in muffled tones.��

clink, ping, clink

“c’mon!” you muttered under your breath. The rough cinder block you were balancing on was starting to dig into your bare feet, jagged rocks and concrete stuck out every which way. 

She hadn’t come back. 

Hours had passed and she said she was going to the store with the baby, getting some milk and cigarettes. You watched as the short hand on the clock moved from 3 then 4, 5 to 6, and now it was at 11, moving closer to 12 with each tick that went by. 

Dad wasn’t home, spending the night with friends in Indianapolis looking for “fresh meat” whatever that meant. 

You were left home alone. Not a first time occurrence, but definitely not on a night when the wind was howling like a wolf. 

The trailer groaned, shadows appeared in all shapes over your shared empty room. Scary faces with pointy teeth. Long witch-like arms that scratched against the aluminum siding, the air vent whistling against the tin roof had you yelping, hiding beneath your covers. 

When the power went out, it took the tiny brightness from the shell nightlight with it, leaving you in an eerie darkness, and you had enough for one night.  

Eddie’s trailer was one down from yours, a quick 15 second run through the tall weeds would get you there in no time. Tucking the oversized shirt you wore as pajamas into the waistband of a pair of cotton shorts, you opened the trailer door, your blankie tucked safe into the crook of your arm. 

The screen door was ripped from your hand by a large gust of wind, but you couldn’t be bothered with that upon realizing that the entire trailer park was cast into darkness, not a single stitch of light to be seen. 

Your feet found the familiar path from Eddie’s trailer to yours with ease as you raced past the Peterson’s chained up rottweiler. His bark loud enough to scare a grown man into hiding. 

Racing up the front steps you knocked quietly, not wanting to wake up Eddie’s dad and deal with his wrath, his fuse shorter than your own fathers. Wiggling the handle you realized it was locked, which was strange considering that the Munson’s didn’t even own a house key. 

And that was what led you here, knocking on Eddie’s window at 11 o’clock at night, standing on tiptoes on the cinder block used as a step ladder. 

“Eddie!” you whisper yelled into the night, your voice traveling away with the wind, “Eddie! P-please, it’s me!” 

Giving up on silent little knocks of your knuckles against the glass, you hit the window hard with a fist and an open palm, tears flowing down your cheeks in desperation. 

The sheet covering his window that served as a curtain, moved back quickly the same time a round orb of light shined in your eyes. 

His hair was a god awful mess, smushed to his head from sleep, curls limp and frizzy. He mouths your name in a question, tucking the flashlight under his chin, his fingers work to lift the window up the broken track. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be asleep, like I was…hey are you okay?”

The tears slip down your face faster than you could stop them, and you wipe them away hastily with the corner of your blankie. 

Eddie moves stuff from his dresser, sliding books into a milk crate and plastic army guys to the floor. 

“Put your foot there,” he instructed, pointing to the siding of the trailer, “like if you were climbing a tree or something.” 

You do as your told, and Eddie leans through the window, grabbing your hands and hoisting you into his room. 

When your feet are on the warm carpet you take a shuddering breath, “thanks, the wind is—”

“Scary, I know, that’s why I have the stereo on… makes it hard to hear it.” 

You stand there for a few seconds, fingers fiddling around the hem of your blankie, embarrassed, not sure what your plans were after making it inside. “Your door’s locked.” 

“Oh, my uncle Wayne is here, he must’ve done it, I dunno.” 

Your face stays puzzled, “your uncle?” 

“Yeah,” Eddie chirps almost gleefully, “Took me to supper and then we went bowling! I’ve met him once or twice, seems cool.” 

“Cool.”

Eddie whispers loud, “Hey! I know some good ghost stories if you wanna have a sleepover?” 

“Um sure, okay.” 

You help Eddie arrange his room, placing the flash light on his bed and angling it towards the closet so he can find an afghan he swore was in there. 

When all was said and done his bed held a thin sheet and a frumpy couch pillow. A smile on his face as you sat side by side, backs pressed into the thin walls.  

Your voice was small when Eddie placed the flashlight under his chin, illuminating his face and casting shadows against the walls, your blankie tucked beneath your nose.  

 “Eddie, I—I changed my mind, don’t wanna hear any scary stories tonight.” 

“Yeah, ’course,” the flashlight falls between you to shine lazily on his dresser, and he hesitates a question that had been burning since you crawled through his window. 

“Clove, where's your mom? Didn’t see her car when we left, or when we got back.” 

Tears squish against your eyelashes as you try to stop them from falling, and your chin quivers. “Th—the store.” 

His voice is soft, “Is your dad home?”

You shake your head, pressing your face into the worn comfort of the thread bared blankie. A hand lays consciously on your back rubbing in a little circle between your shoulder blades. 

Eddie hadn’t had to comfort someone before he wasn’t even sure he was doing it right but he just kept trying. Hoping whatever he was doing would make it better. 

After a few minutes you perked your head up, wiping the wet from your eyes and looking at your friend with swollen eyelids.

“Do you know any happy stories?” 

Eddie’s lips stretched into a small smile as he leaned partly off his bed to find a cream paperback from his nightstand, “The Fellowship Of The Ring” written on the cover. 

He holds it towards you, “Wayne gave me this… I haven’t read it yet but he said it was good.” 

You nod your head, “okay.”

He wiggles his hips down into the blanket, and hands you the flashlight, clearing his throat he begins. 

“When Mr. Bilbo Baggins of Bag End announced that he would shortly be celebrating his eleventy-first birthday with a party of special magnificence, there was much talk and excitement in Hobbiton…..”

—

1989

“…wake up..”  

Bilbo was very rich and very peculiar, and had been the wonder of the Shire for sixty years, ever since his remarkable disappearance and unexpected return. 

“fuck, did you hear me?”

…The riches he had brought back from his travels had now become a local legend, and it was popularly believed, whatever the old folk might say…

The young boy’s reassuring voice morphs into a woman's panicked squeak. The warm arm that was buddied next to yours, the soft lumpy texture of your blankie, the Pert shampoo smell of the percale pillowcase drifted away like smoke from a fire. Traveling higher and higher into the sky until it blended with the atmosphere, weaving and connecting until it was nothing more than a euphoric elevated induced memory. 

You close your eyes to try to find your way back to Eddie. To hear him, see him, feel his voice booming in theatrics as he changed characters. The solace he brought you just by being him. 

A splash of something cold and wet hits your face causing you to gasp, sputtering from the passed out dream land you were in. 

“Oh my God! Shit, Clove! I almost called 9-1-1!” 

Veronica was standing before you with a glass in her hand, water dripping from the mouth of it, falling in unison with the ones from your chin, your hair. 

Her eyes were larger than the moon, staring down at you like she was looking at a ghost, a hand pressed to her chest in relief. 

“Cold,” you muttered, wrapping your fingers around your arms, teeth chattering. Looking out from the confined corner of the cooler, sheltered by cases of beer and an empty keg.  

“What are you even doing in here, thought you left already.” Veronica asked, lending a hand down to help you up. 

“Inventory,” you say motioning around you as if it was the most obvious thing in the world and she was being ridiculous for even asking. 

“Oh..” Veronica’s voice goes small, “you looked… dead.”

You chuckle to hide the shake in your voice, straightening your wet shirt. 

“Never heard of throwing water on the dead, but you’re into that weird voodoo shit so it makes sense.” 

Your joke falls flat. 

Her green emerald eyes let on that she's not stupid enough to think that you had just fallen asleep. Her eyes stare back at you and you roll yours, “swear I just got a little tired and sat down for only a minute, haven’t been sleeping much lately.” 

Veronica knew better than to challenge you. She was your friend, and like Jolene had done with you, you’d  taken Veronica in like a school pet, teaching her the do’s and dont’s of the industry. 

“Okay.” she says in defeat, and you lower your shoulders a bit to look relaxed.  “I thought you’d left already, Rick’s looking for you, he’s called twice.”

Shit.

—

Hawkins was quiet this late. And the drive to Rick’s house gave you just enough time to get your shit together. 

Eddie always came to you in your dreams but never that vividly before. It was almost as if it were real. Just two kids, finding solace in one another. 

God you’d give anything to go back to those simple days.

When the solution to being scared was just a few steps from your trailer found between the pages of a paperback book and the heart of a best friend who knew you better than you knew yourself. 

Books were a luxury, an easy way to escape reality when things were worse than they’d ever been. Outside of a car magazine in the bathroom and the black book that held numbers, dates and dollar amounts, your parents didn’t keep anything like that around, not even a cookbook. 

But the fantasies kept you company, kept you safe, and Eddie’s voice was like a lullaby, always keeping you grounded. 

It was simple when your demons weren’t fought alone. The armor Eddie wore then was scuffed and scarred by countless swords, its job of keeping you safe accomplished. 

But the armor was tossed aside and you had to put it on yourself—finding it heavy, digging at your shoulders, metal pinching your skin, bruising your body in places. The armor wasn’t made for you, it was made for him, the gaps between you bared yourself to the danger, and before long— the strength of the armor was challenged, broken down. 

Did he know? That you were defenseless? That the armor didn’t fit you? 

Rick’s house was dark when your headlights shone against the cedar plank siding. Steering wheel cranking to straighten your tires, rocks crushing against the concrete. 

Grabbing the nightly ledger and the tin lock box from the passenger seat, your door swings open with a grinding thud, and clanks back into place when you slam it shut. 

A single table lamp was glowing when you knocked with a tight grip on the front door. A cleared throat and the burning end of a cigar meet you on the porch, lounging in a wicker chaise. 

“I don’t like tardiness young lady.” leaning forward into the moonlight, Rick finally showed his face. 

The breath you were holding goes out in a shudder, but you plant one of your famous smiles on your lips and twist your body towards him, landing softly between his legs on the corner of the lounge chair. 

“I’m hardly younger than you are,” you tease, offering up the deposits like you’re bestowing him a gift. “b’sides, I’m not that late anyway.” 

“Tardiness and back talk?” He questions bitterly, “surely this won’t be a habit for you?” 

Grabbing the tin from you, his cologne burns your nose, a minty scent you’ve always hated. “You have enough little habits the way it is, niñita.” 

His thick fingers rattle a pill bottle out from his pocket, but keep it just out of your reach, as he counts the intake from the night. You waited silently as he thumbed through the large stack of money, looking over the ledger and ensuring that everything was all there and accounted for. 

The girls were allowed to keep their tips from the stage, but anything more than that.. other services that kept the laundromat in business with bedsheets, went to Rick. 

He leans back against the lounger when he’s satisfied,  setting the tin box down and carding fingers through his short brown hair. “Tommy stopped by tonight, had a lot to say about your little attitude problem.” 

fuck, Tommy has had it out for you since high school… but that’s a story for another day. 

“I guess I’m confused on who you think you are, Clove.” 

Cocking an eyebrow you shift your shoulders, “I know who I am.”

“You’re late, mouthing off, do you not remember the things I’ve done for you?” 

Of course you remembered, it wasn’t that long ago when you were made into his. Traded like a baseball card. One good for another. 

“Such a shy little thing when you came to me, but I taught you well bunny..” 

In all the time you had known him, Rick never raised his voice, and he didn’t now. His tone was almost formal, and he spoke with sophistication licked with malice that made your blood run cold. 

“…I-I know.”

His head cocks, and he leans forward, peering down at you. “You forget so easily how your life was before me…” he coos, running a finger along your jaw. “Would you like to go back to that?”

Not answering, Rick continues, “sharing a room with whatever loose pussy your daddy was fuckin’?” 

You shake your head, remembering countless times how your stuff would be ransacked with each new “talent” that had the misfortune of crossing paths with your old man. 

“Fending for yourself and your sister for weeks on end?” 

His fingers dig into the skin on your neck, pressing harder with each reminder, and you suck a breath through your teeth.

“Crying yourself to sleep hoping your whore mama would come back home…” his voice drops an octave and he whispers into your ear, the heat of his words itching your skin, “..or maybe you’re still waiting for that Munson loser to show up?” 

“Quit it,” the tears were welling in your eyes now.

“Aww, did I strike a nerve?” he holds your cheek, “that deal was the best thing to ever happen to you, but I'm afraid you’re starting to forget who you belong to.” 

“I’m not,” you blink, “I promise.” 

Rick’s eyes watch as the tear travels down your cheek.

“Maybe you have too much freedom, living in the apartment complex with the other girls?… Do you need to come back here? Have me treat you like you’re insubordinate and reckless?”

“N-no, plea—”

“Then why do I have to listen to that inbred spit complaints about you? Do you think I want people coming to my home?”

You shake your head, fingers working the hem of your skirt. He hooks a finger under your chin, making you look up at him.

“I thought my expectations were clear… or am I deceived?” 

Rick liked power, he got off on the idea of submissive relationships. Dominating weak and frail women was his main job, drug smuggling was a hobby. You’d been playing his game for years now, and you knew what he wanted to hear. 

Your hand skirts up his thigh and rests daintily, “I’m sorry, I understand my place…always have.”

Like any other dick driven man, Rick was easy to please. 

“Good,” his lips close around yours and your stomach rolls, the sickly sweet cigar he was smoking lingered and surrounded you in a clutch you couldn’t get away from. 

“Stay tonight,” a command not a question, “my flight leaves in the morning.” 

Looking in the window you notice his house is still dark, “what about Karen?” 

Rick places his hand on your lower back, guiding you towards the front door, “she's with her husband tonight, graduation party.” 

The pills rattle in his robe pocket, and the sound of them sets your teeth on edge, aching for the high. Rick’s hand engulfs the knob and he swings the door handle open, holding up a baggie filled with white powder, “what do you think little rabbit?” 

—

The highway was anything but quiet behind the rickety bricks of the motel walls. Semi engines braked loudly adjusting to the sudden speed limit change, teenagers squealing their tires out of town to impress their girlfriends. 

It was a mistake going to Forest Hills, what did he expect would come from it? You haunted him wherever he went, but being back home was a deeper kind of pain he hadn’t felt in years. 

A cricket played a lonely song in the corner of the outdated room, teasing him by being just out of reach, hidden away.

Watermarked ceiling tiles and a countless number of sheep later, the clock still hadn’t seemed to move. His eyelids showed him your face, the horror of realization when you recognized who he was. 

Pillow pressed into his eyes he couldn’t see anything else, and maybe he didn’t want to. 

He laid there motionless, bare chested in the chilled room, air conditioner broken on the coolest setting. Regret looming around him. 

Back then it was life or death. He didn’t have a choice, he wondered if you ever figured that out. He couldn’t tell you that then… probably not even now. 

He was a coward then. 

Sitting up he tossed the pillow across the room, folding his knees up to rest his forearms against them. Sleep wouldn’t come, not when your eyes were playing in his head whether he was awake or asleep. 

Your face. 

Something else was written between your brow when you saw him tonight, just a small flicker, a ripple to your eyes, but it was there— plain as day. 

Fear. 

—-

Rick had passed out next to you, his naked body slung over yours in some lame attempt of cuddling. You didn’t know how many lines you had done, or the number of shots you took, before stumbling in here. 

Didn’t remember the lick of his tongue in your mouth, the feel of his hands on your curves, your was body numb from the drugs and to him. All you remember is right now, waking in a puddle of tears, the taste of blood on your lips, your nose full of it. 

Peeling Rick’s limp form from you, you make for the bathroom connected to his master bedroom. Your reflection was horrific. blood dripped from your nostrils and coated your teeth, eyeliner dragged down your face like a halloween mask gone wrong. Your body, stark naked except for a purpling hickey on your collar bone, and white residue between your cleavage. 

You look away in disgust, hatred for the eyes that stared back from the mirror.  

It wasn’t uncommon for you to wake up like this. Having spent the better half of every night for the last seven years the same way. Reaching for his hand, watching him slip through your fingers. Voice hoarse from crying, yelling, screaming his name. 

Reaching for the plush hand towel Karen kept, you plop it into the sink and turn the faucet to hot, wetting it completely. 

“So I'm a stranger now huh?” 

Eddie’s words from early stuck with you long after you had left. Eddie fucking Munson. Seven years…No high or amount of time could ever make you forget his face. 

The pain was always there. You were only able to paint over it with each new high you could conjure. But no matter the number of brush strokes, no matter the opaqueness of the paint color, Eddie always showed through. Like a ghost in the background of a photo. 

The sink was nearly overflowing before you pulled the towel covering the drain, wringing the scalding water from it as you sat on the toilet lid and draped it over your face. The heated temperature having your skin raw and burning, a welcomed kind of pain.

Seven years and here he was, waltzing back into town like he hadn’t left you in shambles. Although him being back brought forth memories you wished would stop, seeing him alive and in the flesh settled a sore in your soul. 

It also dug up anger. And under the wet towel you saw red. 

Answers. That’s what you needed from him. You were just a kid then, you couldn’t understand, and maybe you still didn’t want to know why. But you craved to know, your mind gnawing at your skull to make sense of why he would decide to leave. 

You had adapted to your surroundings, learned how to survive. He couldn’t. He was weak and spineless, that’s what everyone had said, and after a while you believed it too.

Stronger than Eddie Munson had ever been, you kept going. Living this god forsaken life because you didn’t have a choice. 

You had your own place, a cute little two bedroom apartment. One you decorated to your liking. You had a job that paid your bills. You had someone that loved…someone that took care of you in ways you didn’t know were possible. 

You were different, and so was he. What did he have? Nothing. No one.

The towel dripped water onto your bare thighs, and you concentrated on that little tick rhythm until it picked up, sending water down in almost a wave. 

Maybe that’s how he wanted his life to be, maybe that was why he left in the first place. Maybe you were standing in his way the whole time like a roadblock.

You didn’t realize the heave of your chest, how your breathing was uneven and shallow, choking off. 

Then you heard it. The gut wrenching sobs coming from yourself. 

It didn’t work anymore. Quite frankly you wondered if it ever had. 

Pretending Eddie was an asshole and that you were better without him was the only way for you to deal with him leaving in ‘82. 

The lies you continued to tell yourself about Eddie were falling flat. Your brain could be fooled, but the space he lived in your chest couldn’t be coerced that easily. He was inescapable, nightmares or not, you yearned for the hours when he would visit you. 

In your dreams he was real. Still in Hawkins. 

Your sobs turned hysteric. Lungs burning with no reprieve as you felt the same loss and emptiness that burrowed in your chest seven years ago. 

Why? How could he leave without you? 

The towel fell with a slap to the floor. Your body slinked alongside it like a doll falling from a child’s fist. Hugging your naked body, you wept on the cold tile for an unknown amount of time. It wasn’t until dawn broke through the window and Rick’s alarm clock went off that your cheeks were finally dry. 

taglist: @mmunson86 @sidthedollface2 @winchester-angel @mrsjellymunson @joannamuns9n @tlclick73 @mewchiili @spacedoutdaydreamer @emxxblog @maybeisthemoon @str4ngergirlw0rld @chrrymunson @insertcoolnameherethanks @kellsck @prestinalove @mandyjo8719 @onegirlmanytales @mopeymopeymouse @veravee-blog @taintedcigs @eddies-acousticguitar @oeuryale @kthomps914 @bangaveragewhitewine @lil-quinnie @corrodedcoffincumslut @definitionwanderlust @madaboutjoe @littledemondani @eiightysixbaby @usedtobecooler

[tenebraevesper]

Shadow the Hedgehog (Sonic Prime, Character Analysis - Final Conclusion)

''It's been a long, rough road and I'm finally here. I move an inch forward, feels like a year. Everything I feel seems so unreal. Is it true? Is it true? I take one step forward and two steps back. Got a hundred thousand pounds sitting on my back. Up, down, all around, don't know quite what to do to get through. Well, I'm on my way...''

(Never Turn Back, Shadow the Hedgehog (2005))

Welcome to the Final Conclusion of my Shadow the Hedgehog's character analysis! It has been a long, rough road for me, but now I'm here to give you my final thoughts on Shadow the Hedgehog as a character in Sonic Prime.

So, shall we dive in for one last time?

I started this character analysis with the statement that ''Prime!Shadow is peak Shadow'', making it my mission to re-watch every episode of Sonic Prime to back up my argument, and I believe that I have succeeded.

When I had learned that Sonic Prime would have Shadow in it, I made sure to keep a close eye on him, as we know all too well just how tight SEGA's mandates around Shadow's character are, having seen him at his worst in the Sonic IDW comics. I had been hoping that Sonic Prime would let Shadow have more room as a character, let him breathe a little. He doesn't have to be just the grim Vegeta-type Stock Shonen Rival to Sonic, but he can also be a hero on his own.

So I waited and I hoped, and, oh boy, did Sonic Prime deliver!

With the placement of Sonic Prime in the mainline canon being deliberately vague (aside from obviously being set after Sonic Advance 3) we only had the knowledge of Shadow's backstory to figure out how his character might be utilized in the show, and let me assure you, I did not expect that Shadow as a character would actually go back to his roots.

As TV Tropes puts it, Shadow is the composite character of ''the intelligent, perceptive, and pragmatic (with good intentions) of Sonic 06'' self ''with the wrathful but good intentioned disposistion of Sonic Battle'' self.

In short, he is exactly the Shadow people wanted to see for so long, ever since Sonic the Hedgehog (2006), which is considered to be the peak of his character (not counting Sonic Adventure 2). He is the grim rival to Sonic, but has a kind heart and the will to protect the world regardless of how people see him. He is not above using violent methods to achieve his goals, but has primarily good intentions, and will clash and work together with Sonic depending on the situation.

That alone is very impressive, but what makes Prime!Shadow stand out even above his Sonic 06 self is the fact that he actually undergoes through subtle, but legitimate character development.

As I had stated in Shadow the Hedgehog (Sonic Prime, Character Analysis - Part 1), Shadow starts out as a loner who prefers to stop Sonic from causing the end of world by fighting him instead of talking to him. This is kind of understandable, since Sonic also sucks at communication and listening to other people, including his friends, which is how the whole Shatterverse event starts in the first place, and gets punched by Shadow for causing this whole mess.

In Shadow the Hedgehog (Sonic Prime, Character Analysis - Part 2), I had been pointing out how, after both Shadow got all the frustration he felt towards Sonic out of his system in the first half of Episode 09: Avoid the Void, he manages to convey to Sonic just how much damage he had caused by breaking the Paradox Prism, leading to the two to actually start communicating properly. Of course, it is not perfect, and Shadow certainly gets annoyed by Sonic over the course of the episode, but he is willing to talk rather than to fight.

However, it takes until the second half of the same episode, aka what I covered in Shadow the Hedgehog (Sonic Prime, Character Analysis - Part 3) for Shadow to finally realize that he needs Sonic if he wants to fix reality. But before that, we have a good old fashioned rival fight, where Shadow decides to save the world on his own, showing us that, even if the world is at stake, he won't miss a chance to enjoy his fight with Sonic. However, upon his failure to enter the Shatterspaces, he understands that he won't be able to do this without Sonic's help, as he's stuck in The Void. Of course, this is just the beginning of their attempts at proper teamwork and they still won't miss a chance to banter with each other.

Speaking of bantering, we slowly start get more and more of those, as covered in Shadow the Hedgehog (Sonic Prime, Character Analysis - Part 4), with Shadow snarking at Sonic while also trying to keep him on track. Not only that, but Shadow also plays a role in stalling the Chaos Council, showing that even if he cannot travel through the Shatterverse, he can still support Sonic in his own way.

When the Chaos Council arrives at Ghost Hill to take the Prism Shards, we finally see what it looks like when Shadow and Sonic team up and it's glorious. Even if their relationship hasn't started out well, you can see how they slowly become better and better as a team, protecting each other and coming up with plans to protect the Shards.

One thing that gets pointed out, however, is Shadow's distrust of other people. In Sonic Prime, Shadow has no friends, which is something Sonic teases him about when Shadow shows clear distrust of Nine. Shadow is right to be distrustful of Nine, pointing out to Sonic how he's not the same as Tails, especially due to how Sonic is projecting Tails onto Nine and treating him as if they were the same person.

However, Sonic is not wrong either in regards to his statement how Shadow needs to learn to trust people, and rest assured, it appears that Shadow actually takes this to heart, as he begins to trust Sonic.

This is seen in the first half of Episode 17: Grim Tidings, which I covered in Shadow the Hedgehog (Sonic Prime, Character Analysis - Part 5). Not only does Shadow not blame Sonic for losing the Shards to Nine, but he also keeps reaching out for Sonic, who is grieving the loss of Ghost Hill and his friends, protecting him from danger, reassuring him that they will get the Shards back and comforting him by complimenting him. It's incredibly sweet to see that side of him, a kinder, softer side which he appears to show only around Sonic.

This extends into the second half of the episode, covered in Shadow the Hedgehog (Sonic Prime, Character Analysis - Part 6), where Shadow keeps up with his mission to protect Sonic as they try to recover the Paradox Prism from Nine. Not only has their teamwork significantly improved, with both being incredibly in sync, but the moment Shadow realizes that Nine is after Sonic, he abandons the Paradox Prism and instead focuses on saving Sonic from Nine, eventually throwing him out of The Grim and basically sacrificing his own life for Sonic.

I absolutely loved seeing this protective side of Shadow, showing just how much he cares about Sonic and how much he has grown to appreciate him.

(Also, note how Shadow once again has beef with Tails, having fought him in Sonic X and Sonic Boom before).

What follows next is the battle against Nine, covered in Shadow the Hedgehog (Sonic Prime, Character Analysis - Part 7), which shows us Shadow and Sonic's contrasting personalities and ideals bouncing off of each other, while working perfectly together. They have now reached a new level of trust, respect and understanding, with Shadow showing complete loyalty towards Sonic, even if their initial methods of reaching their goals clash with each other.

Also, Sonic introduces Shadow as his boyfriend to his Shatterverse friends.

''Probably gonna regret that.'' ''I heart you too, Shadow.''

Oh, did you really think I wouldn't talk about the blatant Sonadow subtext in Sonic Prime? There is a reason why fans nicknamed the show Sonadow Prime.

These two dorks have so much chemistry in this show that it is hard not to ship them together, even if all instances of them working together as a couple were unintentional. Sonic Prime definitely shows the appeal of the Sonadow ship, and if you go by The Sonadow Special Bumblekast Interview with Ian Flynn, these two are probably one confession away from dating each other (even if the ship will never become canon, because SEGA says ''No'' to romance in their Sonic media - a wise decision).

Why am I saying this? Well, Ian says that, in order for Sonadow to be executed, there would have to be an understood vulnerability to Shadow, and he would have to open up to be more accessible at a personal level. He notes how it doesn't take much for it to happen, and that it just has to become established to build that bridge, especially with Sonic being so casual and accepting enough as he is, and he would allow Shadow to be who he is, which is kinda prickly and stand-offish. They would have the occasional moment where Shadow let's his guard down and is more empathetic and emotionally available, but otherwise, they would play it fairly cool and aloof.

Also, how would it be made official that they're together? Ian says how they're so cool and aloof in their own way that he cannot see either of them making some dramatic declaration or turn all mushy and lovey-dovey, as that's not who they are.

''[...] The adventure concludes, and they're standing side by side on the hillside looking at the sunset and the wreckage, and they share, y'know, a compliment, and instead of like, a fist bump or a 'See ya next time', and one of them runs off; maybe they throw arms around each other or something, just kinda stand there. [...] I see them just being very chill about it all.''

So, let me ask you something - in Sonic Prime, which character is starting to show his more vulnerable side, letting his guard down and and reaching out for Sonic, either to comfort him or to protect him?

Yeah, a simple screenshot speaks more than a thousand words.

Also, if you don't care about what Ian Flynn said, just take note of how affectionate Sonic is towards Shadow and Shadow in turn just let's him do whatever he wants. Sonic hugs him, and Shadow doesn't push him back. It's absolutely adorable and it gets even better when we get to the finale!

Episode 23: From the Top (covered in its full form in Shadow the Hedgehog (Sonic Prime, Character Analysis - Part 8)) concludes the battle against Nine, with the whole Shatterverse being reduced to nothing. Sonic decides to sacrifice his life to restore the Paradox Prism, and we see Shadow completely heartbroken when he sees that Sonic isn't moving, probably believing that he is dead. I don't think Shadow had ever shown an expression like this in any media.

Fortunately, Sonic is still alive, but barely holding on, leading up to a race against time, where Shadow carries a dying Sonic towards Green Hill.

''I never knew you were a hugger.'' ''Do you want me to save you or not?''

*shouting from the back* Just kiss already!

Hey, I mean, it isn't them throwing arms around each other, but we do have Sonic flirting with Shadow and Shadow responding before the sense of panic sets in when Sonic goes limp.

Fortunately, the day is saved, with Sonic and Shadow retaining their memories of what had happened and remembering what their learned from each other during their adventure (with the Shatterverse probably being wiped out because Sonic doesn't shatter the Paradox Prism).

''I am the Ultimate Lifeform. I go wherever I want.'' ''Wh-huh?'' ''CHAOS CONTROL!''

One thing I don't believe I had mentioned is how there is three times when Shadow declares his status as The Ultimate Lifeform. The first time is a response to Nine's comment about him and Sonic being twins, with Shadow pointing out his uniqueness. The second time he states it is when Nine is shocked to see him defeat Grim Alpha Sonic, with Sonic quipping how he's ''modest too'', showing off that he is adept to battling and will win the fight no matter the odds. And lastly, he states it once again before he teleports the Paradox Prism, noting how he can go wherever he wants, which I believe is him declaring his won freedom to not be tied to anything (like a certain promise) and doing things his way (not to mention the fact that he spent a good chunk of the show floating in The Void, unable to go anywhere).

Unfortunately, as I said before, the ending kinda feels like it's missing something, and while people might point out how it's either perfect the way it is or list a bunch of flaws or seek signs of an nonexistent sequel, the one thing I wanted to see is for Sonic and Shadow to have at least one more conversation.

''If knowing you has taught me anything, there is always another way.'' 'Wait, was that a compliment?''

I wanted them to meet up again and reflect on their adventure, as well as talk how much they have grown closer as a team, with Sonic even offering Shadow to join him and his friends at the beach for a couple of chili dogs. I'd have Shadow be reluctant for a moment, before accepting.

Maybe have Sonic ask Shadow what happened to the Paradox Prism and Shadow assure him that it's in a safe space. Perhaps they could also ponder on what happened to the Shatterverse, and whether it's gone or it still exists. As for Sonic's friends, they would probably wonder since when Sonic and Shadow are now close buddies, with Sonic about to tell them about their adventure in the Shatterverse before Dr. Eggman returns with another scheme and the adventure continues.

I really wanted some kind of finality to show their newly formed bond. After all, there is so much to talk about, like the fact that Sonic definitely had a traumatic flashback to Sonic Adventure 2.

Or have Shadow admit that he doesn't want to lose Sonic by just telling him not to get so reckless again when around another world-shattering stone.

*sighs dreamily*

Oh well, being a writer, I guess I might as well write this alternate ending by myself then. I might let these two have their moment, showing appreciation for each other in their own way.

Also, Shadow is a hugger. That's definitely canon now.

One last thing to mention before I finish this is - what did Shadow do with the Paradox Prism? Well, I have an idea for how this adventure might continue, albeit in a different universe:

Sonic Boom Shatterverse (Sonic Prime/Sonic Boom)

So, does anyone want to see how Boom!Shadow and Boom!Sonic handle their own universe shattering into pieces? Coz I do!

#Sonic the Hedgehog Analyzer (Masterlist)

[leviathans-watching]

Do you have any random headcanons about any of the Obey me characters that no one's asked the right question for you to share / don't fit with any headcanon post you've made?

misc hcs of the brothers

includes: the brothers

wc: .7k | rated g | m.list | pt. 2

a/n: omg?? this was so fun to write i'm def going to have to do one of these for the dateables at some point. thanks for requesting!! my inbox is open to that, req, or leave feedback, so come say hi!

please reblog :))

➳ lucifer wears makeup. after someone (mammon, most likely) not-so-kindly pointed out the bags and dark circles under his eyes, lucifer went to asmo for help and learned the basics of concealing, which eventually grew into a whole bag of products he applies most mornings, unbeknownst to everyone but asmo. he does a light coverage foundation, concealer, pencils in and shapes his eyebrows, some light contour on his nose and jawline, and some hardly-noticeable eyeliner. his whole goal is for it to look as natural as possible and he’s gotten really, really skilled over the years.

➳ mammon not only knows how to sew, but makes many of his own clothes himself. nothing on the market was eclectic or unique enough for him so he took matters into his own hands and not has a closet full of custom-made and designed pieces. he doesn’t tend to show off his talent (for once) preferring to let others think they’re obscure designer clothes or made by difficult-to-book designers. every once in a while he can be convinced to make his brothers something, but not unless they agree to an exorbitant price.

➳ levi is an adobe girly. not only does he use almost all of their services, but he’s really really good at them too. mammon and asmo will have him photoshop pictures for him, lucifer will go to him for help with document creation, and even belphie had him teach him the basics of premiere pro. the reason he has such high-powered computers and machinery isn’t for gaming, as most assume, but so they can handle adobe optimally without lagging or overloading. additionally, upon hearing adobe flash was being retired, levi scalped the mechanics of it and created a knockoff that functions just as well, something he shares liberally at rad.

➳ satan has a prodigal-like talent for instruments, able to pick them up and teach himself how to play decently in very little time. he also has perfect pitch, can sightread excellently, and composes music in his free time. his favorite instruments to play are the violin, the piano, and the harp. though his not in any music-based classes (as those are all too basic for him of course) he offers help to students in the classes that are struggling with theory, composition, or playing. he’s also the reason the music wing is rumored to be haunted, as he often plays at weird hours.

➳ asmo is the most independently wealthy of all of his brothers, thanks to all of his economic ventures. not only does he model and act, but he also has shares in many major companies in all three realms that show large profits even if they aren’t super successful when he first invests. he works with barbatos to manage his money and has several bank accounts, and though he lives lavishly, is careful not to show the extent of his wealth, leading people to believe it’s family money he’s spending. although this was done, in part, intuitively, he’s also taken several finance and business classes over the years to help him learn and improve.

➳ beel really really enjoys all of the booktok books, and even discusses them at length with solomon and thirteen, when the two can be civil enough to speak to one another. his favorite genres is dark fantasy and belphie makes fun of beel to no end when he catches him reading. beel keeps his kindle on him at all times, and for his personal favorites, buys a hard copy and annotates it with sticky notes–the whole nine yards. for his birthday, satan gives him a book cover so that he doesn’t keep walking around with those embarrassing overs on display. beel doesn’t use it.

➳ belphie is notorious for stealing his brothers’ clothing. for some reason, he finds them more comfortable than his own and every few weeks the others force him to empty out his drawers and give them everything back. his personal favorites to steal are beel’s shirts and asmo’s sweats, but he’s not picky. he wears them to sleep, around the house, while running errands, and would wear them to rad were there not a uniform. at the beginning, it was out of laziness; him grabbing whatever was close. but over time he developed favorites, and, well, there was no going back from that.

leviathans-watching's work - please do not copy, repost, or claim as your own

[sinnful-darling]

yan! giant squid merfolk hcs

cws : shapeshifting because i said so, giant squid brothers (theres 3), the brothers use magic to join you on land (i use a different term but you’ll get it when you see it), giant squid courting behaviors are actually kinda violent, mating for life, mate guarding that leads to murder, camouflaging used to aid in stalking, delusional behavior, i thought it would be kinda cool if they ate their competition so i added that in there… mating mark bc it’s hot, aphrodisiac saliva bc that’s also hot ^^, implied nsfw but nothing descriptive.

— yan! giant squid brothers who were absolute legends in their territory. the three were known to be ruthless, never losing a tussle with any of the other aquatic societies if provoked.

— yan! giant squid brothers who never took a mate. they agreed that the lot of them would share a mate, and thus was unable to find one each of them liked. unhappy with the lack of aquatic mates, they turn to the land dwellers.

— yan! giant squid brothers who surfaced near the coastline, observing at a safe distance. they watched for six days and six nights before they found you.

— yan! giant squid brothers who find you walking along the shoreline with your shoes in your hands as you admire the glittering sea. they were absolutely fascinated with you.

— yan! giant squid brothers who quickly and efficiently use their vytarin to rid themselves of tentacles for the time being.

— yan! giant squid brothers who follow you around, using their composition to slink around the areas you walk about. they find that your human mannerisms are actually super cute <33

— yan! giant squid brothers who eventually approach you after observing how humans interact for a bit. something about them seems a bit off to you…

— yan! giant squid brothers who are absolutely enamored with you. their body language says as much — smiles that seem a bit too wide, eyes that look a bit too dark… everything about them seems a bit creepy.

— yan! giant squid brothers who read your uncomfortable kindness and polite manner of speaking as a go ahead to take you as a mate.

— yan! giant squid brothers who slink around you whenever you take your leave. there’s not a single moment that goes by where they don’t have eyes on you in some form. whether one of them is awake and the others asleep, information is always relayed in an exuberant manner.

— yan! giant squid brothers who take it extremely seriously when they catch you talking to another man. they perceive an action such as this as a threat. this is another potential mate!! they have to get rid of him before they lose you!!

— yan! giant squid brothers who send one off to deal with their competition while the others watch you. their competition is swiftly dealt with and devoured by the lot of them, the three finding that eating from a human mouth is, in a way, somewhat amusing.

— yan! giant squid brothers who conveniently pop up at the best of times, something flashing in their eyes when you smile awkwardly at the three.

— yan! giant squid brothers who enter your home one night and inform you that they’ve taken you as their mate… and that they mate for life.

— yan! giant squid brothers who each sink their incisors somewhere in your body— one mark on your thigh, one on your waist, and the other on the curve of your throat.

— yan! giant squid brothers who are pleased when your body flushes and a light sheen of sweat begins glistening on your skin. they note that their saliva has an affect on humans that they weren’t aware of…

— yan! giant squid brothers who complete the mating ritual that night, hoping they’ll see your tummy well with their brood ^^

— yan! giant squid brothers who continue to protect you despite the mating ritual being complete, doing their best to figure out a way to bring you home with them safely.

— yan! giant squid brothers who take turns returning to their aquatic homeland to build a home large enough for the three of you. they ask for your opinion on each room and outline, valuing your opinion over their own.

— yan! giant squid brothers who find it absolutely adorable when your brows furrow with anger or confusion, the way your eyes soften, how pretty your eyes look when they glisten with tears… they truly couldn’t have chosen a more perfect mate<33

[esouliie]

- TEARS ON THE GRAND PIANO

– pairing: wanda maximoff x fem!reader (mini series)

– synopsis: moving on from the only person you’ve ever loved is proving to be hard… so hard that hiring an escort seems to be the only way forward.

– warnings: a lil angst and comfort to start us off, welcome to the prologue, hope you enjoy!

2ND AUGUST 2016

All is quiet in the compound.

In the middle of the night, you find yourself seated at your piano, bathed in the soft glow of a single lamp. Your fingers move wearily across the keys, trying to breathe life into the notes of a song that has been evolving in your mind since the day you met Wanda.

The melody is your escape, a sanctuary from the weight of the Sokovian Accords and the chaos that seems to envelop your world.

Exhaustion clings to you like a heavy cloak, but the song demands to be finished. Each note is a release, a fragment of emotion woven into the fabric of the music.

Ever since that ill-fated mission in Lagos, the Avengers' world has been turned upside down. The compound, once a haven of camaraderie, now echoes with the tension born of differing opinions on the Accords. It's torn your makeshift family apart, leaving you grappling with your own stance on the matter.

It is expected of you as a super-powered member and also as the reason for Lagos being a failure. The plan had gone awry, and in the chaos, you deviated from the carefully laid out strategy. Overwhelmed by the enemy, your powers were not enough. It was Wanda who came to your rescue, a selfless act that saved your life but led to a devastating consequence.

The explosion in the building, full of innocent people, sat solid on your conscience. And now the weight of responsibility hangs heavy on your shoulders as you try to find solace in the music you create. The piano, an old friend, is both a refuge and a confidant in these trying times.

You're so engrossed in your composition that you fail to notice the subtle creak of the door as Wanda steps into the room, her silhouette framed by the dim light.

She watches you for a moment, concern etched on her face.

“Why are you still awake?" she asks, her voice soft and filled with genuine worry.

You don't immediately respond, caught in the grip of your creative trance.

"Couldn't sleep," you admit, the weariness evident in your voice. "Needed to get this out."

Wanda's gaze softens, understanding the therapeutic power of your music. But her concern doesn't wane.

"And you? Why are you up?" You inquire, curious about the restlessness that brought her into your space.

A hint of sadness crosses her features as she confesses, "I had another nightmare.”

That hasn’t happened in a while, only on a rare occurrence since she started to heal from the events in Sokovia. Her war-torn homeland.

The pain of her brother's death used to haunt her dreams frequently, the agony vivid and raw in her memory. You remember when she first told you how it felt that day, the overwhelming emptiness as she felt her brother’s life slip away as if it were her own.

That was the first time she lost control of her powers.

A surge of empathy washes over you, and you instinctively reach out to touch her hand.

"I'm sorry.” You whisper, your own exhaustion momentarily forgotten.

She manages a small smile, her eyes lighting up.

“Well, I was thinking," she begins, her tone almost conspiratorial, "maybe you could come sleep in my room tonight. You know, like a sleepover?”

You can't resist the charming plea in her eyes, even though you know it’s all fake. Laced with fear of falling asleep just to end up back in another nightmare.

Usually, the sleepover ends with her clinging onto you tightly, whatever movie you both decided on long forgotten, as she sleeps peacefully. The nightmares suddenly gone as soon as you're around.

“Alright." You agree, setting aside your messy sheets. "Lead the way, m’lady."

The piano sits in silent anticipation as you follow Wanda out of the room, leaving the notes hanging in the air.

Later into the night, you both settle into her bed, the warmth of shared dreams replace the chill of nightmares. Wrapped in the comfort of each other's presence, you both drift into a peaceful sleep, leaving the half-finished melody to linger in the stillness of the night and challenges that await with the morning sun.

That was the last time you slept with Wanda.

[cali]

Your art is so pretty but only from a distance. And I don't mean that in a bad way.

The composition and characters are all pleasing at first but then I'll zoom in to look at the details and see all the little random lines and ugly scraggleteeth and asymmetric details and parts that shouldn't have been added and colors around colors that have no purpose.

i think u literally dont get what im going for then. i wish i could have u give me an example of a line you think shouldnt have been added or of a color that doesnt have a purpose.

but i feel like u couldnt show me a single one that i would agree with because my fundamental outlook on art is that it cant be wrong and saying a line "shouldnt have been added" TO ME feels like it roots back to an idea of there being a concrete theory of what good art is. like if i was trying to go for correct anatomy or stuff like "leading the eye" id understand and be receptive to critique but im purposefully not training myself in that and going for a joy of drawing freely and ornamentalizing wildly.

if i am misrepresenting u and this isnt u , well sorry u kinda shot urself in the foot with ur phrasing. when i hear "ugly scraggleteeth and asymmetric details" it makes me frown a little to hear u be unable to enjoy asymmetry ? what do u like ?

i like trash and chaos and disorder, here is a picture of oily as fuck rice leftovers that looked cool

[leonaquitaine]

Virtual Photography Guide: Composition

One of the in-game activities I enjoy the most is trying to replicate real-life photography techniques in gpose, and it’s surprising how much can be achieved. So today, let’s play around with composition!

Leading Lines

Leading lines can help guide the viewer's eye through an image. They’re visual elements that form lines, like buildings or roads, or even an area with high contrast, like the horizon line. So by aligning convergent lines to create these ‘focal zones’ you build a sense of depth and lead the viewer's gaze toward it.

Framing

You can use elements within the scene to enclose or surround your main subject. These elements could be natural, like branches or foliage, or architectural, like doorways or windows. This adds depth and context, and helps the viewers immerse themselves in the scene:

Symmetry

Symmetry creates a pleasing sense of order and balance in an image. You can do this by dividing your frame equally and positioning similar elements on either side:

Depth and Layering

Adding depth to your virtual photographs enhances the sense of immersion. By placing objects of interest in the foreground, middle ground, and background, you can create a layered effect that adds depth and dimension to your composition. DoF (Depth of Field) shaders are particularly well suited for cases like these:

Point of View

Experimenting with different and unusual camera angles and perspectives can yield surprisingly dynamic and engaging shots. For example, positioning the camera at a low angle and looking up at the character can create a very impactful composition:

On the other hand, top-down pictures can not only give the viewer a sensation of being ‘in the scene’ but also help put elements together that would otherwise be scattered around in a horizontal shot:

Negative Space

Negative space refers to the empty or minimalistic areas in your composition. It provides breathing room for your main subject and can evoke emotions, or create a sense of balance and calmness.

And let’s not forget the most important rule of all:

Break the rules

These principles serve more as guidelines than anything. Sometimes trying to force a composition into one of those categories can detract from an unusual yet powerful shot, so trust your eye and aesthetic sense.

I'll cover more composition techniques like the Rule of Thirds, Rule of Odds, Rule of Space, Golden Ratio, and others in part 2. Enjoy!

[bubblewrapsnek]

Phantomarine Reread: Chapter 1

For this chapter I don't have too much to elaborate on so it'll probably be mostly stuff I enjoy about it so uhh enjoy!

Let's begin:

The cover of the chapter is just very fun and good, I love how in a full page what acts as frame is the composition itself, using the rock as both a titlecard, flat space made to have Phae stand out in the centre thanks to less detail around her, and has a couple skeletons climbing on it too making it interacted with the enviorment too, it's just very good, plus lots of cute critters

Bonus, pretty lady with pretty dress

One sword lady just happy to be there, good for her!

Cheth working like a lamp, getting turned off as soon as Phae chickens out is a very good bit xD

Something I also enjoy a lot from this chapter is just how present those godly veins are

You can clearly see them flowing into everything Cheth uses, they work at being somewhat subtle to me, at a first read I just assumed they were for flare, it's a god in the sea hopping bodies, of course he has an aura, but going back they are very consistantly threads coursing through what he touches and moves, around him at all time, and it makes the reveal that those aren't something he causes, but those are HIM very fun to go back to

Also Cheth being so unserious even when angry, giving eyelashes to a t-rex HE CHOSE TO THROUGH A HISSY FIT WITH, THIS GOD CHOSE THE DINOSAUR FAMOUS FOR HAVING TENEE TINY ARMS TO PERK THEM UP AND SHOW ANNOYANCE, love that for them

Something else I want to point out is how Phae is never still, every panel she is moving, posing with dumb bravado sometimes downplaying it a bit, it keeps her expressive and alive even when the obvious main show is Cheth's flamboyance and shapeshifting circus play, and that in itself is also a very fun thing, in a revolving door of actors, the play doesn't loose itself, Cheth's emotions are readable, a character is expressed constantly and flows nicely into a variety of states, and for both of them, keeping this bravado will pay off later in the chapter VERY well

Great visual, the veins themselves working as the smoke, showing he is loosing patience, he is fuming while being underwater

Another bonus point: Extremely rare instance where I find M!Cheth looking hot in a sense of coolness instead of the usual lovely dork clown (he is hot in both ways but this is a different taste)

Plus

The facless crowd of red eyes not playing, smiling or fooling around anymore, they are finally dead set on her, she created a play for them and he provides the pressure of an audience, more than the panel before, with her literally being portrayed in front of the t-rex's mouth, this feels like the maw of the beast surrounding her, sizing her and ready to devour her, ready to have her be part of the facless crowd of observers, very spooky

And this feeling of the maw of the beast pays off, 'cause shit gets real very fast, Cheth doesn't take it lightly and goes for the throat with a question that not only he thinks she would never know, but that hurts so so much, (and also shows what is in his mind when dealing with royalty, not the attacks towards him directly, not the damage to him, but the countless children who have been deprived of a family due to all this). This works as a tone shift, the first, altho minor, payoff from the swagger set up early in the chapter, and this question hits you in the face hard and fast

Cheth's frame while asking this is almost as big as the burden of that knowledge, a question so heavy the panel under it is quite literally being smothered, Phae's face accomapanying the reader who didn't expect the shift

And this leads to another piece of characterization that will come back later, Cheth cares for children, this isn't just a question done to hurt her but it's something he cares for, and why do I say this? well it's something I read not only in what will be said later on in other chapters, but in Cheth's reaction when Phae actually can provide an answer

He is confused, but also looks genuinely worried about her, he is dumbfounded AND concerned for the woman who showed to care about something he thought she would have only superficial empathy towards, for the girl who just admitted to being herself a lost child in grief (little headcanon, the cat showing up is there to be ready to help in case it got too far)

Something else I want to make note of that I find very compelling:

The background, Phae answers and the background goes BLANK, until now it consistantly framed her in either blue or red, either in Cheth's play or taking a step back from it, but now, this is something that wasn't part of his tease, this wasn't something he thought would happen, Phae's care and grief quite literally breaks Cheth's overwhelming, presence here, it feels as if not only is he shocked, but he is giving her a brief moment to breath, letting her have some space for just a moment, I love it

And this also leads to a moment I find very interesting, and I would like to give my reading to

The way I read it as of the time of writing this, is that Cheth has a deep fondness towards humanity, the anathema comic shows a devotion to his love for the people he fares in the afterlife, for the children of man who have all but forsaken him, and here he is ANGRY, but why would he be angry that the king actually cared for said people? I can think of one reason: at this point he has been waiting for a sign for 5000 years, made to sit back and watch for ages the humanity he loves sending their man foolishly to die in a war against him in which he isn't even participating, and I think he might have internalized how the people he loves have accepted a doctrine against him so deeply that they deem the sacrifice of their lives and the suffering of their children as worth less than fighting him. But what does he learn now? that the king, the guide of this war, feels guilt over this, that the mean leading all those people to die had to find a way to cope with how terrible that weight is, that they haven't forgotten how precious the lives of his people are, AND YET HE KEEPS SENDING THEM TO DIE, EXACTLY LIKE THEY DID FOR THE PAST 5000 YEARS. This is beyond foolish, this is pure denial of knowing that what you are doing is terrible, and thinking you can offset it by being kind instead of working on the problem at the root of it, I too would be angry if the man leading those fathers and mothers to abandon their children tried to save his conscience by doing charity instead of preventing those deaths to begin with.

God this came out rant-y, and probably not perfectly worded

Moving on

Remember when I spoke about how the constant expressiveness and bravado of the characters is a great setup, well here we get to the first very big payoff in my opinion

Once again, Cheth's overwhelming red get's completely broken, stark white coral framing the object of something that deeply hits him and breaks his flow, he stops to a screeching halt for the first time, speechless and astounded. without all that overwhelming presence before, all that bravado, this loss of control would hit so much less and it doesn't stop here, no this is the first punch of a two hit combo, the proverbial quiet before the storm

And this also leads to another reversal in their constant duel present in this chapter, up to now all of this has been a back an forth, a dance where Phae responds in kind to Cheth's provocations, and here, she doesn't reflect an attack, but just like Cheth seeing her at a low before had him react with a look of pity, she responds here with the same concerned expression

Sadly, Cheth isn't in a place where vulnerabilty is something that can be helped with pity or comfort, not now

Now all he is, is a raging storm of emotions

And how does he get back control of the scene? he lashes out, he once again becomes overwhelming, the entire scene becomes a vortex of red and anguished faces, Phae's bright yellow gets tinted in a red glow, something deep within him has been touched

And MY GOD is the subsequent page a mic drop, the red slowly drifts to the bottom, her emotions are settling down, there is a moment of reflection and quiet, of many things she probably couldn't hope to think about for such a long time finally piecing together, and with those elements coming into place, here comes a new face that we will come to know along the way, not only is this a new face in the chapter, this is an expression of Cheth's state of mind in my opinion, as we will later learn that the sign he was waiting for, all he is doing and setting up, it was all in the name of a promise made to this face. at least, this is my read atm, we'll have to see how the story unfolds to see how well it fits

Have you ever seen a lady so beautiful you forgot you are dealing with Satan and decided to flirt? Phae sure has

And here we arrive at the reason I said Phae's tired reaction to the death of children was the "minor" payoff to the bravado shown

Cause damn here we get to the main show of her fall

But also, shock factor aside, I want to point out how this is the first truly mean spirited move Cheth has made thus far, the question of children came from a place of care, this is purely mean, nothing can come from being this petty and evil in action, it's almost parody of the demonic figure he gets painted as, almost...

Yeah you all probably know what I'm getting at, this is the first action she takes after learning of the bonefish, of the sign, and we later learn that she actively decided to play up the evil aspect Phae knows her as, painting herself as a disgusting villain because that was the role she thought would work, after all, would kindness and explaining have worked? she is basically programmed to hate them...

And with this Cheth has completely put the curtain back on, the second act of the play has started and they are both the director and the actors, the scene once more tinges itself in overwhelming red as they start their show

After this point the chapter is quite straightforward to me, tho it doesn't shy away from some very neat shots that end up being some of my favourites of the entire chapter

Like this one, it creates a very good feel of having Phae on the backfoot, the textbox itself works in presenting her driven in a corner, against a wall, even amidst a boundless ocean she has no escape, and Cheth taking center stage to the panel also works in establishing them once more in control

Meanwhile, I honestly can't even explain why I like this laugh so much, it's just so visceral, so played to an extreme, the sea itself is laughing, Cheth looks like he could fall over on their back from how the laugh is bending them, you the reader aren't safe from the thunderous laughter as the panel itself breaks down, becoming seafoam, you are seeing them explode over the question of Shoshanna's return and once again, Cheth is playing up a villain, we see later down the line how the argument of Shoshanna breaks them and tears them down, and here I think they are masking it, they play up their bravado to an higher degree than ever before, a villain so incredibly sure of themselves that they can stop and laugh so much they aren't even seeing you anymore, they are completely exposed, not a single shade has their eyes open to keep watch on you

What grief could ever deserve such a boisterous mask?

AND HE KEEPS GOING, HE KEEPS UPPING THE FACADE

He both becomes and rides a wave about to wash Phae away, he both is master of a distaster and the disaster itself, all this part feels like is him deciding to play the villain and putting on his best theatrics to deliver it, they become mean, deameaning, ruthless, the teases don't feel as fun anymore, Phae isn't in a place to make it a back and forth anymore

The chapter starts as an ebb and flow between our main characters, but by the end there is no more pushback, Cheth has become a flood and Phae has lost the ground she was so confidently standing on before

And she manages to get a hold for a last desperate second, she has been pushed so far back in a corner that she lashes out violently, but in the end, even this is futile, in the end...

The tidal wave has crushed her, and she can do nothing but break.

[chaos0pikachu]

Cinematography?? In MY BL??? Not as likely as you think.

TLDR: it's a joke!!! but also legit sometimes I see "cinematography in bl" and it's just some basic pictures with mid-tone lighting and blue t-shirts. Let's talk film terms like: aperture, panning, tilting, and movement in film so we can see what goes into cinematography (with sources!). Also if I name a show you like as "boring cinematography" don't send me hate mail I'll laugh

(examples used: Our Skyy2 vs kinnporsche, 2gether vs semantic error, 1000 Stars vs The Sign)

If I name a show you like in this post as "bad cinematography" be chill about it, like, I ain't saying you can't like it, I'm just talking about techniques here not personal likability or overall show quality. I like badly filmed shit too say hello to my collection of Friday the 13th Blue Rays we're just here to talk techniques and like, educational stuff okay?

So the straight (heh) textbook definition of "cinematography" is: the art of making motion pictures. Which, frankly, tells you nothing. Like it's not wrong~~ but it's not informative either. Cinematography covers a lot of what we, the audience, visually see on screen:

"Cinematography is the art of photography and visual storytelling in a motion picture or television show. Cinematography comprises all on-screen visual elements, including lighting, framing, composition, camera motion, camera angles, film selection, lens choices, depth of field, zoom, focus, color, exposure, and filtration." (source)

So let's talk movement in film.

So when I talk about movement, what do I mean? I mean the way the camera, the characters, and the environment moves within a frame.

This video on Akira Kurosawa's usage of movement in a scene is brilliant:

Something as simple as having rain or fire in the background of a shot can enhance the emotions of a scene vastly. it gives the scene depth - literal depth, not narrative depth - that would otherwise be missing.

The way the camera moves and transitions leading the viewers eye back and forth makes what you're watching more engaging. You aren't consuming these scenes, you are engaging with them. They are apart of the story itself, giving the environment life and texture so the characters within them matter more.

And, look, I get busting out Thee Akira Kurosawa might be unfair, but if we're gonna talk cinematography we can't not talk the importance of movement on film.

To understand good cinematography you have to understand what makes it good and as such what makes bad or mediocre cinematography.

In connection with movement we gotta talk about camera techniques like panning and tilting:

"Camera movements are a fundamental part of video production. They can be a powerful storytelling device, heightening tension, evoking emotions, and bringing the viewer into the action. Without saying a word, camera movements can transform a scene’s entire narrative, and direct audiences’ attention where you want it." (source)

So we have movement of environment, of characters, and we also have movement of the camera itself.

Ok so like, where does the BL come in Pikachu??

I'm getting to that, I'm going to start with a more general example: Our Skyy 2 (Bad Buddy meets 1000 Stars edition) vs Kinnporsche.

Starting at 5:17 we have Pran stranded or whatever, and this shot is like, it's fine. It's boring as hell, but fine. Why is it boring as hell? Well it's flat, it lacks movement, it lacks depth.

When the driver drove off the camera could have panned to follow his movement and then panned back to Pran at a different angle to showcase his isolation. Honestly since the scene starts with a mid close up of Pran, I would have had the camera behind Pran as the driver drove away, and had the camera pan around Pran 360 so we get shots of his environment, and him, while also emphasizing holy shit he's like, fucking stuck in the wilderness. 

In general, there's a big lack of movement in the scene. The camera remains almost entirely static, there's no attempt at zooming in or out, following Pran's movement, or showcasing his environment in any meaningful way. Even when Pran begins walking towards the camera the angle of the framing is still centered, rather than tilted downward or upwards to give us more dimension (non-BL comparison, the Book of Eli starring Denzel Washington does the "walking towards the camera" shots really well).

We get a cut of a medium close up of Pran, with a deeper focus so his environment is blurred out.

I understand the thought process of this shot, we want the audience to focus on Pran, but if the point of the scene is to emphasize he's alone, confused, maybe even a bit anxious at his new circumstances it could've been done better. Take a wider shot from this angle, open up the lens to allow for that background environment to come through and show him isolated. Maybe do a pan above him or tilt the camera up going from his feet up as he nervously ruffles his hair. There's options here.

This just adds more walking to the scene, which we already had. It doesn't enhance or emphasize anything about Pran's emotions as a character.

Anyway the camera continues to follow him and then we get another cut. And it's from the same angle as before, only this time we see a truck coming. The camera remains static, it completely stops moving, and we just wait for the truck to drive into the frame.

This whole sequence of events ends at 5:57 and while not a long sequence I find it frustrating because it's boring. The only way the audience knows that Pran is anxious is via Nanon’s acting, there’s nothing in the filmmaking that enhances or contributes to that feeling.

He’s alone, until he’s not, and that’s all the scene tells us. It leaves the scene lacking any tension as well, because we’re not getting a sense of isolation - how large is this space? How alone is Pran right now? What is the entirety of the environment? 

Contrast this with a similar scene in kinnporsche ep06 where Kinn and Porsche are alone in the mountains. I don't have a video of this specific scene so I have to link the trailer, starting at 1:48 to 1:52, but see how we start mid-close up of Kinn and Porsche, then pan out from above them? This is a better showcasing of just how vast the environment around Kinn and Porsche are.

They're still center frame throughout all of this, the depth of the scene is in mid-focus so nothing is blurred out and you can see the sharpness of the environment.

It also places the audience in the same space as Kinn, who is looking up at the sky while the audience looks down at him. It makes the audience a more active participant in the shot, emphasizes the state of the characters, gives the audience a sense of space & environment, and relies a sense of emotion.

The additional fast zoom out also adds to the scene by adding movement and making it more dynamic.

(my man pran looking like this 🧍)

Both these scenes are pretty short, but they're relaying similar information and one is way more dynamic and effective than the other. Both Pran and Kinn/Porsche are alone in the wildness, but in the latter there's a lack of space, a lack of movement, and a lack dimension. This is mainly a framing issue, so let's talk more about camera movement (panning, & tilting).

Here's a scene from 2gether vs a scene from Semantic Error.

(saw someone say 2gether had a high production value and chepie where??)

This entire scene with Sarawat and Tine is flatly shot. There is nothing in their background so no outward movement is happening, the lighting is even as are the colors, everything is at the same depth, and there's little to no motion in the camera.

The scene with Sarawat pushing Tine into frame. Why doesn't the camera follow Tine's motion of movement so the scene has more momentum? It just stops and the char falls out of frame before walking back into it. Then we get a series of cuts back and forth of close ups on Sarawat and Tine's faces. Back and forth, back and forth.

The editing leaves a ton to be deserved because if the back and forth did a quick pan back and forth with each beat we could build up tension, give the scene some texture, heighten the intensity of the argument. If we're going for something softer we could place them in on better set, or make the characters move themselves - have Sarawat walk away from the argument up those stairs, have the camera follow his movement as Tine chases him continuing the argument - or play with the lighting a bit, pan the camera down or tilt it something!

When Tine kisses Sarawat why doesn't the camera move with him in a more notable way? Why did we have a cut to a close up? And then we're back in a mid close up and more cuts and this editor is killing me!

This scene is 4mins long and the only engaging bit of filmmaking here is when the camera follows Tine when he steps closer to Sarawat putting the latter in the frame at 3:15, the entire scene is 4 minutes long.

I want to compare this scene to this scene in Semantic Error which is also all dialogue and also obviously filmed on a shoestring budget.

So right away the camera work here is smart, it starts off in an establishing shot, evenly lit, of Sang Woo and Jae Young both in the frame. Then we get a mid close up of JY looking down, then a tight close up of JY looking up.

The change in camera angle emphasizes his surprise at seeing SW here as he looks up at SW. The lighting has also changed, it's much brighter now. The camera also begins to move, where it was static before it begins to tilt and shift.

We get a cut to SW, the first one of this scene. JY is seeing SW in a new light for the first time, and as such so is the audience. By starting the scene off in an outward shot with both chars in the frame, they are placed on the same level and the audience doesn't see their expressions up close. So when we're hit with JY's close up of surprise and then SW's close up of his wet hair it holds way more impact. It enhances the feelings of JY's character for the audience.

The lighting behind SW has also changed, it's much brighter, and warmer compared to the cooler tones of light behind JY. The camera also slows, and continues to to tilt and shift. JY's world has literally been shifted on his axis.

We get another cut, this time medium on SW and notice, the camera stops moving for that moment and the light around him dims. It's not as saturated. We're moved out of JY's pov here and back into "regular" framing.

SW tries to make JY leave, we get a close up cut of the cut on JY's arm - hey editing used to display important and new information! - then the camera cuts to SW getting medicine and here's a small but important thing, when he tosses at JY the camera follows his movement. And instead of cutting away, when JY gets up thinking SW is hurt, the camera follows JY's movement back towards SW.

It would have been easy to make a cut there back and forth - like in the 2gether scene did over and over - but following the movement of the characters makes the scene way more interesting visually to watch.

Changing the angles of the camera from a lower angle (where JY is looking up) to a downward angle (where SW is looking down) makes the scene more interesting visually as well and enhances the storybeat of JY looking up at SW in a new light memorized. This contributes to the story as well, as it's JY who catches feelings for SW first so their are literally, on uneven ground until they're not later in the story. The camera is panning, tilting, moving with the characters even given the limited space. The lighting adds to the effectiveness, as do the minimal cuts.

On a technical level, the scene in Semantic Error is just better filmed. In my own opinion, the scene is far more engaging b/c the filmmaking is better, where in 2gether the reliance is almost completely on the actors to sell the scene with little help. And I'm not saying nothing about Bright and Win cause their stans wildin'.

Next, I wanna talk about aperture.

I saw a post that used this word and I didn't understand the context in which they were using it because aperture isn't a style of filmmaking its a camera setting or lens adjustment - it's the rate at which the camera opens and closes letting in light and focus.

"Aperture is the opening of the lens through which light passes. When you hit the shutter release button to take the picture, the camera aperture opens to the predetermined width, letting a specific amount of light through. A large aperture lets more light in, and vice versa. Aperture is calibrated in f/stops, written in numbers like 1.4, 2, 2.8, 4, 5.6, 8, 11 and 16. The larger the number, the narrower the aperture." (source) <- really recommend this article if you want to learn about aperture in film.

A great non-BL example of aperture used for style is One Piece Live Action where cinematographers Nicole Hirsch Whitaker, and Michael Wood love using deep focus aperture in a lot of scenes.

But let's compare The Sign vs 1000 Stars.

So when the scene starts, we're in mid-focus/aperture, everything is of similar sharpness and depth. Nothing is especially blurred out we're getting the full spectrum of Phaya and Tharn's environment.

When the camera switches to close ups of Phaya and Tharn however, we get a deep focus aperture. That's why everything behind them is so blurred out. In a close up of Phaya, even Tharn's face is blurred. The director wants the audience to focus specifically on these characters individually, so we can understand the weight of their dialogue. But when the camera wants us to see the characters as a unit, it cuts, pulls back out of that deep focus and everything is back in mid-focus again.

Here's another thing, it's subtle but it's important.

This scene also combines what we already discussed about movement. At :08 of the scene, in that first mid-shot the camera is actually zooming in closer on Phaya and Tharn. Not dramatically, subtly, but it is there. This is important, because at 3:23 we get another mid-shot of them, pulled out of that deep focus, and the camera begins to zoom out.

The camera also follows the movement of Phaya grabbing Tharn's hands, then pans back up to Phaya's face once again before panning higher into the frame and panning back to their faces and zooming in.

When we move back out of that deep focus, into a mid-shot the camera continues to zoom out on the two characters as they kiss.

I saw someone say that this scene wasn't "filmed like BL kisses" and, eh? Like it isn't filmed in that static style of filmmaking which has dominated BL filmmaking probably due to budgetary reasons. But

The Sign follows a similar filmmaking style as Kinnporsche and Domundi shows do. But also just like, basic filmmaking techniques you'd see in shows of the non-CW/soap variety.

The thing fans are seeing here is film technique (probably partially due to a larger budget). Movement, lens adjustment, panning and titling, lighting and color are all playing a role in this specific scene.

Cinematography baby.

(sidenote the VFX of The Sign is dope as fuck too)

Okay so let's talk Our Skyy 1000 Stars

So this opening scene follows a similar structure to the scene in The Sign: mid focus shot of the two chars, into separate deep focus close ups. It's also a dialogue heavy scene like the one with Phaya and Tharn.

So why does their scene work better on a technical level than this one in Our Skyy 2?

The scene in The Sign combines techniques of aperture, movement, lighting, color and framing to give everything more impact.

In this scene with Phupha and Tian we get a similar editing style as the scene in 2gether: lots of back and forth cuts, very tight close ups, static camera movement. Where as the camera zooms in and out during mid-shots, the camera doesn't move in Our Skyy 2. It remains motionless even though a zoom in as the two characters lay in bed would add a lot to the scene itself.

In the close ups the camera continues to remain static, only changing angles when there's a cut. At 1:22 Phupha moves his arm to wrap around Tian, the camera could have taken a closer shot at his arm, and then followed his movement as he wraps it around Tian. Like how the camera followed Phaya's movement when he holds Tharn's hand.

Instead it's just a flat shot, we see his arm wrap around in a mid-focus above shot. The camera does move to follow Tian a couple times - at 1:50 for example. But overall, the scene is stiff - who sleeps like this frfr - in framing, in movement, in depth.

I want to say that I don't think this scene is bad - like I do the 2gether scene or the earlier scene with Pran - I think it's just, okay~~

And no, for none of these examples did I pick "the worst" shots or whatever. I'm not out to get any specific show, but tried to find comparable scenes and compare and contrast the filmmaking techniques used in both and how effectively they were used.

I want to leave off with this.

There's a lot that goes into cinematography, yes this singular shot of Furiosa is amazing, but what makes the scene amazing?

Pay attention to how the camera moves (panning and tilting), when the camera moves (zooms in and out), the movement of the scene (the hair and sand moving), the lighting (Furiosa from behind is in darkness, her side profile more lit), the depth of the scene itself changing (as she walks away from the group the focus/aperture gets deeper on her, then when she walks out of the frame it grows larger to focus on the characters left behind).

All these little things make up what is "cinematography". The more you learn about the techniques used the more you can notice about film and what makes a scene powerful.

As BL gets more budget we're seeing shows expand their filmmaking catalogue more and more. Which is exciting! If fandom is gonna talk cinematography I think it's helpful to have the vocab to do so, and it's cool to watch a scene and be like "oh I see what they're doing here and why and how".

I mentioned other things that go into cinematography like framing, lighting, color, and there's also editing (which is separate). Idk if I'll make a post about those things cause I'm lazy and this shit takes forever to research and write but who knows~~

Check out other posts in the series:

Film Making? In My BL? - The Sign ep01 Edition | Aspect Ratio in Love for Love's Sake | Cinematography in My BL - Our Skyy2 vs kinnporsche, 2gether vs semantic error, 1000 Stars vs The Sign | How The Sign Uses CGI | Is BL Being Overly Influenced by Modern Western Romance Tropes?

[like these posts? drop me a couple pennies on ko-fi]