Tumgik
#I WROTE THIS ON MY BREAK
wigglebox · 2 years
Text
Queer? In my John Winchester?
It’s more likely than you think! 
Sorry — but not really. 
So, it’s 2022, there’s a Supernatural show on, and I am sitting at my desk wondering how to actually start talking about a queer reading for a character that many don’t like the idea of being queer.
No I’m not talking about Dean Winchester — I’m talking about John. 
I remember waaaay back when in Ye Olden Times of June 2021 when the show’s script commitment was leaked, myself and a few others on Tumblr tossed around the idea of “Omg what if they make John queer, he’s in a relationship with another guy, and then heaven forces them apart because he has to be with Mary.”
And that wasn’t out of a desire to just have a slash ship. Those happen regardless, all the time, with little to no warning and little to no reason sometimes. Shipping happens. Shipping doesn’t have to be canon, doesn’t really have to make sense, and is a personal thing between you and your AO3 account. 
From my perspective, I had been wondering if they’d do it simply because the meta symbolism comparison — whatever — would be so great for Destiel and that ship’s journey. 
And, I still stand by that, and if anything, even more so now that I’ve had more time to think about it and see the characters on my screen. 
While watching 1x04 of The Winchesters, Masters of War, even mid-episode, Twitter and Tumblr and likely your Discord servers were all ablaze with “What was that look that John just gave Carlos in that uniform? Millie? What?” and especially after this tweet:
Tumblr media
Just gonna do one of these while I’m at it: 
Tumblr media
Anyway —
But for me, that wasn’t the only moment my brain starting firing when it came to the possibility of John and Carlos. 
First of all, since we know where John and Mary are eventually going to end up, this show can’t hurt me. I’m already expecting to be hurt. It’s not queerbaiting, it’s not anything like that. Also, especially now, very much not queerbaiting. Coding is not baiting. But regardless, I had gone into this show fully expecting to just start shipping everyone for everyone just because why not?
But after 1x04 I legitimately will be paying more attention to John/Carlos. 
For me, the most interesting thing about Destiel was that it kinda was born organically. Cas wasn’t meant to be a character that stuck around but the chemistry was too good to get rid of him, and the story just made sense with him there tbh. It was over the years and years that these two were on screen together in which it went from “Yay, a slash ship that’s not with his brother!” to “Oh my God are they going to make this canon? It makes the most sense!” 
The thing with Destiel is that since it was organic, it was born outside of the narrative. Cas was the first one to “make it up as we go,” he exists outside the narrative. 
The whole thing when it comes to Chuck Won theory for me is that Cas is a threat to Chuck because he exists outside of the narrative and kept trying to get Dean to go along with him — subconciously of course lol. [Side note, this is why I don’t believe Cas is in heaven, because if indeed Chuck won, Cas wouldn’t be there. Cas is ‘real’, he’s ‘truth’]. 
Destiel is a pairing, a love story, outside of the actual story while directly influencing the narrative that Chuck is trying to dole out to us. 
It was a brat, the suits/Chuck couldn’t control it, and once it started rolling down the hill, no one could stop it. 
Destiel was the character pairing that broke the narrative. 
Now, when it comes to The Winchesters, we have a bit of a thing going on here don’t we? We have four characers: Two young women, two young men. This is actually prime fodder for a shipping free for all. 
Carlos already expressed his once crush on Mary, Latika [to me at least] is kind of crushing on John, and John and Mary, we know, wind up together regardless. 
However — John and Mary are the narrative. That’s The Plan TM. That’s heaven’s outcome, that’s Chuck’s outcome, that’s the thing that needs to happen for the story to play out how they want it to. John and Mary don’t have a choice in this. 
But, they both still need a relationship outside of the narrative for contrast. 
The thing with Supernatural is that we never had Sam or Dean have ‘narrative compliant’ relationships. There was no need to have them hook up with someone to make children who are destined to bring about the apocalypse or whatever. That was all on them. That was supposed to end with Sam and Dean. 
But The Winchesters has a narrative couple, even if they don’t know it yet. For me, John and Mary still seem like just friends, they all do really, and while sometimes they’ll have talks in the van or heartfelt speeches to each other already with piano music softly playing overhead — it still doesn’t feel like romance. If anything, in 1x03 with John’s words about Mary and having to save her, it felt more like we’re inching more towards brother co-dependency than not. 
Since we have a narrative couple, and we already know what that is, we need a non-narrative couple. We need John and Mary to seek relationships with others, and probably get a little farther with it than just one date. We need something outside of the narrative that’s threatening to also take John and Mary along as well. John and Mary need their Cas, because they certainnly aren’t Dean and Cas to each other. 
“But Jen, why not just have John with Latika?” 
Because I said so! No, just kidding, because Carlos makes more sense to me in this case. 
It’s been clear to a lot of us watching that Carlos really captures the attitude and spirit of early seasons Dean. A little over confident, likely compensating for something. Withholding emotional stuff, maybe a little cavelier in his love life, and hell we even got a “why does paper even beat a rock” reference in 1x04. 
But in 1x04, it feels like Carlos was also set up with Cas parallels. 
Carlos was in the Navy, he was in the service, just like John. Dean and Cas were also ordered basically to “fight” by their fathers, and were essentially soldiers of their own corners of the narrative. 
But, Carlos isn’t a soldier. He’s a medic. He’s a healer. First thing I thought of was “Oh, Cas healed people and Dean all the time.” That’s one of the things I associate with Cas a lot is just healing, both physical wounds and emotional ones. 
I find it interestingly fasincating that Carlos was put in contrast to John like this. Dean and Cas to me were on the same level whereas Carlos felt like almost the polar opposite to John. He didn’t illegally sign up for the war while underaged, he wasn’t really looking for a fight, and he did none of the fighting but instead helped those who were wounded in the fighting. Whereas John entered the war underaged, was a Marine, and likely saw so many atrocities unfold before him including the death of his friend Murphy. 
The Destiel parallels didn’t end there for me. 
It seems like we’re test driving John with the different characters. He’s with Mary, alone. Then he’s with Latika, alone. And now he’s with Carlos for most of the episode, alone. So it feels like it’s almost like I’m watching The Bachelor lol. You have the winner who was engineered by producers to be the pick at the end of the competition [Mary], the one who actually was in it to find love with the Bachelor [Latika] and the one that the Bachelor actually fell in love with [Carlos]. 
[I’ve never seen this show lmao I’m actually modeling this off of Flavor Of Love but shh don’t tell anyone]
Obviously, my saying John is in love with Carlos is literally just me saying that. Literally no proof of that right now. I’m just saying if we’re going to throw some tropes in there, that’s where I’d slot him in. 
So getting back to Destiel parallels — I found the jungle space that John and Carlos wound up in so interesting. It really reminded me of Purgaytory. Yes I’m spelling it that way. 
When Carlos stepped on the mine and said John’s name like that, like Murphy did but also just like that, idk. Struck something in me. But I also found it interesting that he was in there at all. All the other people that this god killed were on their own. But now it’s both Carlos and John, and the god is using Carlos to try and like, convince John to do what it wants John to do. 
Obviously, we know that despite his claims otherwise, John did wind up doing what the god wanted him to do and did in fact kinda give into his inner demons, which we saw play out the entire episode as John struggled hard. 
For me, John needs someone who’s going to tempt him away from the narrative, away from going down this bad path of running instead of confronting his inner demons, and away from the narrative pairing that will eventually be with Mary. He needs someone who will help steer him away from all of this, because the narrative has to have something to rip away from him. And progress would be that thing that the narrative strips away. 
And to me, yes I wouldn’t mind it being Latika either but I’m aligning her more with Mary at the moment. So for me, it’d be Carlos. Another ‘brother in arms’ [see what I did there], someone who does understand the trauma of seeing what he saw, and experienced more or less what he experienced. Someone who is that beacon of hope and light [even though I’m sure Carlos has his own issues obviously] that would make John want to confront his issues intead of run from them. 
So, when I see fun Destiel parallels to John and Carlos I like them, but I’m also thinking about the meta narrative implications of this. A queer ship, for outside of the narrative, that will wind up getting the axe in order to serve the narrative. Because isn’t that what happened with Destiel, and Dean’s right to reciprocate being taken away from him [literally. the final monsters ripped people’s tongues out and he never said Cas’ name after that phone call in 15x19]. 
To mark a full tragedy and degradation of John Winchester, it’d be great to me anyway if they do the same with him. 
Now —
I know post-episode there were some loud dissenters and those who aren’t happy about this concept that John could be queer, especially if it’s more upfront about it than Dean ever truly got a chance to do. 
And for that, I understand, however I’m choosing to view this as a good thing because if they can slap on as many callbacks to Destiel as they can with these two, but knowing that with these two it’s going to fail while with Destiel more or less succeeded*, I’m choosing to call a win a win. I also don’t believe symbolism, meta, and story for The Winchesters should be sacrificed because of decisions made for a separate show that began in 2005 and tried its hardest to deliver undeniably queer Dean in its 15 year long run. 
*Dean never go to say I Love You back, however I’m a continuation believer, and I also think the metaphorical silence was pretty loud.
A lot of folks choose to see adult John as homophobic, a headcanon/fanon trait that I can 100% understand where folks come from. However it’s not canon that he is, and it’s never been implied in the show either. Therefore, I feel like that point of debate is one I don’t really take all that seriously, because it’s someone’s personal reading of a character, and not tangible canon. 
A queer John Winchester would I think give us the chance to add more fuel to the Destiel fire, while also giving us the chance to grieve a love story that could have been, and grieve a person that John could have been instead of the one that he became. Queer people aren’t always good, kind, reasonable, and understanding. Sometimes they can, indeed, grow into being terrible people. 
The Winchesters is ultimately a tragedy. No one is going to win at the end of the day. It’s like watching a run away train and being unable to stop the characters from making the choices that we know will lead them not to safety but to mortal danger. 
But if they can give us peeks into what could have been, that’ll make it so much more tragic in a way that really resonates with us. 
135 notes · View notes
inkedroplets · 2 years
Note
From the fanfiction trope mash-up: 80 (Green-Eyed Epiphany) + 10 (Airport/Travel AU)
It was just easier for me to write a ficlet, hope you like it!
"Kelly thinks they might patch things up while they're away."
Kara had been so invested in people-watching; her attention drawn to a couple who were engaged in a very tearful goodbye that wouldn't have looked out of place in a romcom, she thought she might have misheard Alex at first.
"Patch things up? I think things between Lena and Andrea have been fine for a while," she said and gestured toward the airport security gates that she had watched the both of them walk through just minutes ago. "Lena wouldn't have offered to go with her otherwise," she reasoned. Andrea had called a meeting earlier in the week at CatCo to let everyone know she would be taking some personal time to attend a funeral back where she had attended boarding school. Kara had found out later that evening when she had stopped by L-Corp to bring Lena dinner that Lena was planning to accompany her to the funeral.
"Not what I meant at all," Alex muttered. She glanced sideways at Kara, looking like she very much regretted even broaching the subject but when Kara furrowed her brow she plowed onward. "Kelly just meant that there's a precedent for people to rekindle things when one of them is grie—"
"R-rekindle?" Kara spluttered, looking at Alex very carefully to make sure she wasn't trying (and failing) to tell a very bad joke. "They never dated, Alex. You can't rekindle something that was never there to begin with. There's nothing to..." she trailed off, trying and failing to find the word she was looking for. "Kindle..." she murmured, knowing that wasn't right.
"Forget I said anything," Alex groaned. She fished her car keys out of her pocket and jangled them the same way one might when trying to entertain a newborn. "If you don't want to fly home," she warned and began walking back towards the entrance.
Kara followed along in Alex's wake for a few steps, deep in thought before she caught up easily, keeping pace even as Alex tried to speed up. "It's just—"
"My fault for even bringing it up."
"ridiculous," Kara finished. "I know they had a falling out but they never dated," Kara said, looking around as if there was someone standing close by that could verify what Kara believed to be true.
"Mmm," Alex hummed, seemingly uninterested in continuing the discussion. But when Kara flashed her a very smug, very triumphant smile, she seemed to change her mind. "Well, that's not what Nia told me..."
"What did Nia tell you?" Kara asked, coming to a halt and tugging on Alex's arm so that she was forced to as well, vaguely aware that she could feel her heart beating more keenly than usual.
"Kara..."
"Alex," Kara rapped back.
Rolling her eyes, Alex let out a theatrical sigh. "Nia asked Lena one day about her and Andrea. I don't know when," she added very quickly, somehow knowing that would be Kara's next question.
"And?"
"And they dated," Alex said and shrugged as if to say 'there, that wasn't so bad, was it?'.
"Lena never told me that they dated," Kara murmured and there was an unmistakable tinge of hurt in her voice that Alex immediately picked up on, the look of irritation on her face being replaced by a much kinder one.
"It was a long time ago, Kara. Ages ago. I'm sure that Lena never brought it up because to her it's ancient history."
"She told Nia," Kara shot back and realized how petty she must have sounded, feeling guilty.
"Well," Alex said, looking all the more regretful that she had led them down this path. "Nia is Nia and You're you," she said and prodded her gently on the shoulder.
"What do you mean by that?" Kara asked, looking back at Alex, puzzled.
"Oh no," Alex said and clasped Kara's other wrist gently and tugged. "I'm not having that conversation in a busy airport."
Back on the road and heading back to National City, Kara sat in the passenger seat in silence for nearly ten minutes before she found it impossible to keep quiet any longer.
"Andrea is not the right fit for Lena," she said, speaking out loud, more to herself than Alex, but that didn't stop her from glancing over at Alex who only appeared to focus even more on the road than she already was.
"Andrea called game night a stupid idea once," Kara said, looking straight at Alex, speaking in a voice just above a whisper, as if to spare Andrea the embarrassment of anyone else overhearing something so scandalous.
"The nerve," Alex replied in a dull monotone.
"Yeah," Kara agreed, nodding heartily. "So even if Lena dragged her along to game night, she'd be a pretty lousy partner..."
"And you'd need to find a new partner..."
"I..." Kara felt as if she had been punched with that revelation, too stunned to reply, falling silent again. But not for very long.
"And not to badmouth Andrea," Kara said carefully.
"Perish the thought," Alex said, not taking her eyes off the road.
"But Lena," she said and laughed as if that was an answer in and of itself.
"Lena what?"
"Lena is Lena," Kara said. "She can do a whole lot better than Andrea. Not that there's anything wrong with Andrea," she added very quickly.
"And that's your completely unbiased opinion?" Alex asked, drumming her fingers on the steering wheel.
"Anyone who knows Lena would think the same thing, Alex..." she said patiently, as if she were explaining something incredibly simple to her.
"Okay... So if someone as beautiful and as rich as Andrea is out, who does that leave exactly?" Alex took her eyes off the road for a moment to goggle at Kara. "Wonder Woman?"
"No! Not her either! I don't know," Kara said, now her turn to regret starting the conversation.
"I do," Alex muttered darkly but made no further attempt to engage her in conversation.
Even in first class, Andrea never found it easy to fall asleep. Even the smallest noises seemed too loud to her and the strange tapping that had started up had joined the low drone of conversation and clinking of silverware and glasses.
She re-adjusted her eye mask, knowing it would do nothing to mask the noise, but hoping it would anyway. If anything it only seemed to make the sound even louder.
Probably the engine, she thought darkly, just my luck, before realizing it was coming from the window...
She nudged the hard plastic curtain up a few inches and let out a gasp, her hand that had been resting Lena's arm tightening to a deathgrip.
"Gremlin on the wing?" Lena asked groggily, stirring in the seat beside her.
"No," Andrea said, reaching up to nudge the call button, very much wanting a drink. "Kryptonian," she said and opened the window to reveal Supergirl flying perpendicular with the plane. To Andrea, she almost appeared to be blushing.

166 notes · View notes
saltpepperbeard · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Edward Teach in the OFMD Season 2 Trailer [x]
9K notes · View notes
shawtuzi · 1 year
Text
let’s talk men who love to satisfy your oral fixation!!! after telling him your embarrassing secret that you almost always have to have something in your mouth he was moreee than obliged to meet your needs—whether it was buying numerous lollipops for you to suck on or shoving his semi hard dick in your mouth while he mindlessly scrolled on his phone. but your favorite? his fingers. they were so long and slender it was impossible for you not to get addicted!!! normally lollipops would satisfy you but on days where you were stressed and overstimulated what you really needed was his fingers shoved down your throat while he told you how pretty you were :((( and that’s exactly what he’d do!! he’d have you on his lap, chest to chest while his thumb gently traced your plump, glossed up lips. “‘nother rough day sweet thing?” he’d whisper slowly inserting his thumb into your awaiting mouth. he didn’t need an answer ever—he just knew by the pout on your face and the way you’d pick at your clothes that you needed some extra lovin’ from him that he was more than willing to give. after a few moments of you sucking his thumb he’d whisper a soft, “ready for more angel?” to which you’d nod your head quickly. in a flash you’d be cradled in his arms, his index and middle finger halfway inserted into your mouth meanwhile praises would be flying from his mouth left and right. “such a pretty girl….smart too. i’m the luckiest man in the world aren’t i?” ah how you loved to be called his pretty girl. usually you’d end up falling asleep due to him playing with your hair but, on days where you were feeling even needier than usual the same fingers that were in your mouth would be knuckles deep in your pussy while his mouth was pressed against yours and you’d be sucking on his tongue ofc bc ur insatiable.
— eren, JEAN, reiner, toji, GOJO, CHOSO, rindou, izana, HANMA, DRAKENNNN, rengoku, tengen, AIZAWA, and yk what i’m gonna put hange too bc they’d definitely pamper you to the fullest extent >:(
10K notes · View notes
risustravelogue · 4 months
Text
cw. fem!reader
Partly inspired by this post. Damn you Rin /aff
Tumblr media
Thinking about Wriothesley telling you to relax on your first night together, because you’re so tense at the thought of his thick cock entering you—no, it’s not gonna fit, it’s too big—even though he has prepared you so much.
You try to let go of the tension, relaxing your hip muscles and spreading your thighs apart for him (it takes everything for him to not go down on you again), and he grips your waist gently, slowly lifting your lower body up. He bends down to kiss you, his hot tip pressing against your entrance.
“I love you,” he whispers against your lips, and slightly pushes his hips forward. You moan, your breathing quickens at the sensation of his cock bullying its way inside you, slowly but surely spreading your walls apart.
“I can’t… please, I can’t—” you cry, tears rolling down your temple.
“You’re so wet… it’s okay, you can take me,” he shushes, kissing the tears away.
Your back arches as his hips finally snap against yours, your trembling moans and his satisfied groans filling the room.
“There you go… that’s my girl… so good for me,” he coos.
He makes love to you until you’re both spent, bodies tired but satisfied from indulgence—the first of endless nights spent together to come.
Tumblr media
© @risustravelogue 2024 • FEEDING THIS WORK TO GENERATIVE AIs IS STRICTLY PROHIBITED. • do not repost. • reblogs are precious. • feel free to send an ask to suggest, chat, etc. 💖
the gorgeous mdni banner template by @/cafekitsune 💙
2K notes · View notes
bixels · 18 days
Text
The idea that uni protesters are "elitist ivy-league rich kids larping as revolutionaries" on Twitter and Reddit and even here is so fucking funny to me if you actually know anything about the student bodies at these unis. Take it from someone who's going to one of the biggest private unis in the US, 80% of the peers I know are either from the suburbs or an apartment somewhere in America, children of immigrants, or here on a student visa. I've heard about one-percenter students, but I've never met one in person. Like, don't get me wrong, the institution as a whole is still very privileged and white. I've talked with friends and classmates about feeling weird or dissonant being here and coming from such a different background. But in my art program, I see BIPOC, disabled, queer, lower-income students and faculty trying to deconstruct and tear that down and make space every day. So to take a cursory glance at a crowd of student protesters in coalitions that are led by BIPOC & 1st/2nd-gen immigrant students and HQ'd in ethnic housings and student organizations and say, "ah. children of the elite." Get real.
#also idk how to tell you this but even if it were true. wealthy children potentially sacrificing their educational careers to protest is#a good thing actually. idk how to tell you that caring about people from other nations is good#personal#“this war has nothing to do with most students cuz nobody's getting drafted” idk how to explain to you that we should be angry#that our tuitions of 10s of thousands of dollars that we pay every year for an education is being used to fund a genocidal campaign#also the implication that if you go to a uni institution you are automatically privileged by participation no matter your bg#i didn't /want/ to go to this school. i was supposed to go to a school with an art/animation program. but i realized my immigrant#parents have been working their whole lives to get me here. and turning the opportunity down would be a disservice to their sacrifice#this is getting into convos of “what 2nd gen kids owe their parents” which is different for everyone but. yeah#i just get pissed off at seeing people misrepresenting student bodies as “wealthy” and “privileged” and “elite” when it's such a blatant li#i remember a year ago a friend told me they can't fly home to hong kong for winter break because the plane tickets are too expensive#so they have to find temporary housing around the area#last quarter for a film doc class my film partner made a doc on a small group of marxist grad students from india discussing praxis#during a rally a few months ago in response to police presence the coalition invited palestinian students to speak about their experiences#and lead songs and read poems they wrote. these are STUDENTS. are they elitist too?#this is not to disregard my own personal privilege either.#this whole narrative's just to rationalize a lack of empathy to me. seeing a 19yo student get shot by a rubber bullet and your first#reaction is “HAW! HAW! bet richy rich didn't see THAT coming when she put on her terrorist hood!”#newsflash. these big uni campuses are HAUNTED by the violence of past protests and revolutions and police brutality. we know.#why do you think these coalitions have been making reinforced barricades at record speed
816 notes · View notes
apdreadful · 23 days
Text
I’ve decided that from here forward I’m writing Tommy and Buck/Evan as long term canon. In the words of Buck himself “Who cares?!”
I get the feeling that Tommy is difficult to get really angry. Mostly based on his past. And his general roll with the punches attitude thus far. So I don’t foresee a lot of strife or fighting in his future with Buck. Except the first time Tommy experiences the after of that big marshmallow Evan Buckley doing something really dangerous and reckless..again.
And Tommy who never gets angry, who never shouts at Buck, who flew a helicopter into a goddamn hurricane in the middle of the ocean, really loses his shit this time because Buck cannot understand why Tommy is so upset that he dropped into a dangerous situation against orders AGAIN.
Tommy pinches the bridge of his nose to keep from shouting “Bobby told you not to go in. He told you not to risk it. That the floors were too unstable”
“There could have been someone left” Buck replies “Someone needed to check. It had to be me”
“Why? Because you’re fucking super human? The great Buck Buckley from the 118 who scoffs at danger, has survived a tsunami, getting trapped beneath a fire truck, throwing a blood clot, and was officially dead for three minutes after getting struck by FUCKING LIGHTNING!”
“How do you know about all of that?”
“That isn’t what matters”
“I think it is” Buck takes a step toward Tommy “Have you been stalking me babe?”
Noticing the mischievous smile Tommy shakes his head “Oh no no no. You are not going to adorable your way out of this”
Bucks shoulders sag and he sighs “I’m ok Tommy. Not even a scratch”
“I can see that” Tommy lets out a deep exhale “I understand the risks of the job. I’m not like your exes who would get all distraught over you removing a cat from a tree. But for fucks sake, you are worse than the EOD guys when I was in Afghanistan with the walking - or in your case running or jumping- right into the worst case scenario with no thought of your own safety” Rubbing his forehead he continues “Evan. You’ve got a savior complex and it’s noble and selfless..”
Buck cuts him off “It’s not a savior complex. I’m not stupid. I understand that sometimes no matter what you do you can’t save them. But sometimes maybe you can, and in those cases, I just make the most sense”
Tommy crosses his arms to keep from strangling him or kissing him stupid again to shut him up “How is that? How does you possibly dying make any sense?”
“They all have people that need them. They all have someone they belong to and..” he trails off with a small shrug
And Tommy hears the words he doesn’t say. He is…expendable. And just like that all of the anger drains out of Tommy to be replaced by a something else. “Evan” he says softly.
“I know” Buck interjects “I know that people love me and they would be sad, especially Maddie. And I don’t want to die. But I don’t want someone who has someone they need, and that needs them, to die either. I couldn’t live with that”
Tommy closes his eyes. This man..How can he be so adorable and selfless, yet so completely stubborn and a pain in the ass about his own safety?
Once he calms his thoughts and finds the words he wants to say, he opens his eyes to see Evan looking at him calmly. Like he expects Tommy to see the sense in what he said.
“Evan. I know we haven’t really put a label on this. On us. But that’s because I don’t want to pressure you. I’m the first man you’ve been with and you’re still figuring out who you are, and I understand that. But let me clarify something for you. I need you to come back to me. Ok?”
Buck blinks “Huh”
“I need you to come back to me” he repeats “Like Bobby needs Athena, and Karen needs Hen, and yes like Maddie needs Chimney.
“And Jee-un. Jee-yun needs her dad”
“Yes, and in that same vein, Christopher needs Eddie” he agrees, trying not to give in to his exasperation. “I need you. I am that person who needs you to come home Evan”
Evan stops whatever he was about to say. Startled awareness creeping into his eyes..Tommy sees a mix of emotions flit across his face. Surprise, joy, fear, everything just races across that expressive face and then Evan sinks onto the barstool at his kitchen island. His hands coming up to cover his face.
Tommy’s stomach clench’s. He pushed too hard, too soon “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I do care and want you to come home but..”
Buck looks up at him “Don’t you dare take that back”
“I’m not taking it back. I just don’t want to push you”
Something else crosses Evans face at that..but he tugged at his bottom lip with his teeth. “You aren’t pushing. You aren’t pressuring me. I am in this just as much as you. I just don’t know how to say what I want to say without it sounding lame and emo as shit”
“Did you just hear me? You can say anything to me Evan. Whatever it is”
Buck rolls his bottom lip between his teeth again. “I’ve never questioned why I do this…I mean it’s the whole reason I was born. To save my brother. To save Daniel. That’s what I do, that’s who I am. It’s why I became a firefighter. To be the one who saves people. The 118 is my family. And I would do anything to protect them from harm”
“I’m not asking you to stop. I would never ask that. I just want to remind you that you matter to a lot of people, and you also have someone who is waiting for you”
Bucks voice is thick “I know that. I get that. But…Nobody has ever. I have never belonged to anyone, like that”
In a sense of deja vu Tommy closes the short distance to Buck. Tipping his face up, he kisses him. Not soft and gentle like their first kiss in this kitchen. But bold and deep. Branding Evan with his mouth. Pulling back he says fiercely “You belong to me like that. For as long as you want..you belong to me and I belong to you, like that”
“I will ALWAYS need you to come back to me Evan”
ao3 like per request
653 notes · View notes
satorusluver · 7 months
Text
Prince!Gojo x maid!reader
Minors DNI
I know I mentioned Prince Gojo x arranged fiancé reader but now I am also thinking about Prince Gojo x maid reader.
Tags/warnings: unprotected sex, creampie
Tumblr media
Prince Satoru Gojo, who first saw you years ago when you joined his mother's household when you were both teenagers and had an instant attraction to you. You're not even a lady-in-waiting who serves the queen, they're at least noblewomen. You're a servant to a lady-in-waiting, far far below the Crown Prince in ranking, but do you think that's gonna stop Satoru? Hell no. Not when you're the most beautiful woman he's ever laid eyes on.
It took him years to actually speak more than a few sentences to you though, not because you're so below him, but because you're so ethereal, so beautiful and pure that he didn''t want to corrupt you with the sinful thoughts he has of you. But once the spark between the two of you became apparent, nothing could stop it from blazing, his better judgement and the social hierarchy be damned.
You think he's thinking about any of that when he's balls deep in your soft, velvety cunt? When he's feeling your legs wrapped around his waist and your hot breath panting in his ear, and hearing you whimper his name, his real name, and not "my prince" or "your highness" or "Crown Prince Satoru"? Because here, in this room away from prying eyes, he's just Satoru -your Satoru.
And no, you didn't expect friendly conversations and harmless flirtations and maybe a few stolen kisses to so quickly evolve into Satoru bunching up the skirt of your dress around your hips and rutting into you against the wall of an empty room during the few short minutes before he has high tea and you have to return to washing the windows. His pace is hard and fast due to the lack of time, and it makes your eyes water and your toes curl each time his thick cockhead rams against your sweet spot and causes you to see stars and dig your teeth into your lower lip to keep from crying out loud enough for someone outside the room to hear.
And yes, you know it's a terrible idea. That you should have saved your maidenhood for your future husband. That you're risking everything, your honor and your future, when you feel those ropes of royal seed spurting against your cervix and into your womb and very possibly putting a bastard in your belly.
But how could you have possibly said no to the handsome Crown Prince and those captivating blue eyes that look at you like you're something wonderful, something precious, something more than a servant who scrubs floors and empties chamber pots? When he's kissing the side of your face so sweetly and gasping out a declaration of love as he's fucking that royal seed back into you?
You can't bring yourself to regret it, even when you're soon back to washing down the windows outside of the room where Satoru is now dining with his family, sipping tea from cups expensive enough to keep you fed for an entire year. Not even when you feel that familiar trickle of his seed spilling out of you and pooling in your undergarments, and see those same blue eyes now momentarily flicker over to you with an utterly blank expression that betrays no recognition whatsoever.
2K notes · View notes
theveryworstthing · 10 months
Text
life has been lifein’ haven’t been posting for a while but hopefully i’ll have stuff to post soon. 
without getting into the full rollercoaster of misery, health problems abound in my loved ones and every year for the last 3 years we’ve lost at least one family member. my gramma Rosezina died on July 1st after 83 years of being A Problem. her funeral was on the 8th during a day so hot that we couldn’t be at the graveside for more than a few minutes, fitting weather for a woman nicknamed Hot for her good looks and spicy temper. i loved her very much, i love her very much, and the emotional strain of everything that came after the Big Stroke fucked me up a little bit.
here’s one of my favorite stories about her, stop me if you’ve heard this one:
my gramma was schizophrenic, a fact i didn’t figure out until i was told by a family member at some time during my preteen or early teen years because the way schizophrenia was depicted on tv or movies was so different from what she was. she was an amazing quilter, gardener, cook, baker (i’ll never have a caramel cake that rivals hers), and general gold star deep country grandmother who was always sweet to me, her first born granddaughter, even when she stopped remembering who i was exactly in her later years. 
also, she never liked being told what to do.
also, also, she hung out with the devil for a while.
she said he’d just show up sometimes, the most beautiful, angelic, enchanting man you ever did see. he’d come to her when she was feeling overwhelmed, upset, or lonely, and offered words of comfort and a gentle listening ear. she had a hard life, and that comfort was very valuable to her even if it was coming from the devil, so over time he became her friend and she trusted him right up until the day he told her to kill her kids and free herself from all the problems constantly weighing her down. 
need i remind you, she did. not. like. being told what to do. (especially when the thing she’s being told to do is murdering her own children)
so of course, she told all her kids to walk up the road to my great gramma’s house, and when they were gone Hot dragged the couch the devil was sitting on outside into the front yard and set it on fire with him sitting on it. 
from what i was told he seemed very irritated but didn’t get up as she stared him down and watched him burn. 
afterwards some other family members put the fire out and she returned to her chores like nothing happened. as far as i know the devil never talked to her again.
and that’s why i grew up knowing that the, ‘the devil made me do it’ defense is some bullshit. if the devil is real he can’t make you do shit. he flounces off if told no (and set on fire) once. 
weak bitch. 
2K notes · View notes
Text
Bad News First, Eddie
Part One 🦇 Part Two🦇Part Three🦇FInal Part
"Bad news first, Eddie," Steve sighs as he leans back on his heels, cleaner in one hand and a rag in the other. "They vandalized your headstone again. Good news, I beat Wayne out here so he won't be seeing it."
It's been over a year since they'd had to leave Eddie behind. He'd been cleared of the murders. That had been the easy part, since the Upside Down had exploded out into the Rightside Up. When Vecna started killing people it had been pretty easy for people to realize Eddie was just another victim.
Or so Steve had thought.
Eleven saved them all, the people of Hawkins knew the truth, yet Steve still found graffiti on Eddie's grave.
Eddie's grave is empty, because Eddie's body hadn't been recovered. Too much had happened, no time to mount an expedition to retrieve it, and the gates were closed. Another regret Steve lives with.
Like not taking Eddie's face between his hands and looking him dead in the eye when he told them not to be heroes.
Late at night, Steve sometimes imagines he did just that. Looked him dead in the eyes and said, "there is no shame in running, in living to see another day. Don't be a hero because I need you to be okay tomorrow."
Robin says it's not good for his mental health, these what-if scenarios, but so what?
Steve isn't sure what started it but coming out here to talk to Eddie seems to help him clear his thoughts. He always starts with the bad news, Eddie's voice in the back of his mind. Bad news first, always.
The first time Wayne had caught him out here, Wayne thought he was vandalizing. Had scared Steve half to death being yanked back violently by his upper arm. It didn't take Wayne long for his eyes to process that Steve wasn't holding paint.
"You know my boy?" Wayne always spoke in the present tense about Eddie.
"Not as well as I would have liked, sir," Steve swallowed thickly. It was the start of a friendship, of sorts. Wayne seemed happy to have someone to tell stories about Eddie to, and Steve was happy to learn about Eddie.
Months pass and Steve goes every week.
"Bad news. The new guitarist is mediocre at best. Good news. Corroded Coffin lives on and they finally got a new guitarist."
"Bad news. Robin will not shut up about Vickie. Good news. Robin got that date she wanted."
"Bad news. Wayne had an accident at the plant. Good news, he's okay. I think... this might be weird to you, but I've convinced him to move in, at least until he's healed fully so he's not alone. He's staying in the downstairs guest room. Not that you know where that is. You've never even been to my house... bad news, you've never been to my house. Good news, I really wish you had."
So it goes. Wayne Munson moves in and never moves out. Steve's parents call once, to ask if he wants the house. Steve says yes.
Shortly after, Robin takes a room upstairs. Says she gonna take a year off school before college. The Party moves their dnd games to Steve's giant dining room table. His house is always full but part of Steve feels empty.
"B-bad news," Steve forces the words out around the lump in his throat, "I found out too late. Good news, I'm bisexual. Bad news, good news? I don't know man, the news is I could have loved you. I think I do, but that's the you Wayne and the kids tell me about, so who is to say really."
So it goes.
"Bad news. They're seniors this year, Eds. Seniors! Robin going away to college was bad enough. I don't know if I'll even know how to function when they do. 'Cause they're gonna, you know? They're smart. Too smart to stay in this town," Steve is crying, can feel the tears falling, but doesn't stop them. "I know I should go, too. Somewhere else. Anywhere else. But I can't leave. Wayne's here. You're here. And if I go, who will look after either of you?"
"Bad news. College acceptance letters have come in. They're not even graduated yet. This should be good news, but, heh, friends don't lie."
"Bad news, Eds. I can't remember your voice. I didn't think.... I feel like I remember it but I can't hear it. I want to hear it. I-i need-" Steve doesn't know what he needs, doesn't know how to end that sentence so he just sobs, fingers burying themselves into the dirt of an empty grave.
Wayne gets a phone call one day and says he's gotta go back to Tennessee. Eddie's father -that rocks Steve because while he knows Wayne was Eddie's uncle, he never connected that a father was somewhere out there- Eddie's father, Wayne's younger brother, needs him.
Steve drives Wayne to the airport in Indianapolis. Wayne promises he'll return but Steve won't hold him to that. This is family, and as much as Steve pretends, he isn't Wayne's nephew. Isn't Wayne's family.
As Wayne disappears onto his flight, Steve is left hollow. There's no one left in Hawkins that needs him.
"Bad news, Eds. I think I'm a danger to myself. I keep having these thoughts... like how easy it would be to drive my car into the quarry. Or just slip into the pool and take a deep breath. I don't know who I am, or how to be me, without someone needing me."
Wayne calls and tells him he's coming home. Bringing a guest if that's ok. Steve says okay because he needs to meet the man who taught Eddie how to hot wire a car but not play catch. Also, he hopes to hear Eddie in his voice when they speak.
"Bad news, Eds. I'm too much of a coward to meet your old man. Afraid of what he'll sound like. Because I want him to sound like you so fucking bad it hurts. So instead of being home, I'm hiding here."
And then, a miracle happens.
"Well, I've some bad news for you, too, Stevie. I got my voice from my mom."
5K notes · View notes
delta-piscium · 11 months
Text
Steddie | 1.7k words it is (swedish) midsummer so I wrote this based on my favorite old tradition because I can and will make anything steddie, so like glad midsommar (happy midsummer)
“What are you doing?” Steve asks as he follows Eddie to the hallway where he’s frantically putting on his shoes. 
“I almost forgot,” he mutters under his breath not acknowledging Steve at all.
“Forgot what?” 
“I can’t believe I almost forgot.” 
“Eddie,” Steve says a little louder, more adamant.
He does look up at Steve then and almost looks surprised to see him. As if he’d forgotten he was there, as if they haven’t been hanging out for hours. 
“Oh,” he says. “Uhm,” he squints at Steve who waits for him to continue, to explain. He doesn’t.
“Yes?” Steve implores because he would really like an explanation. Eddie had just abruptly stood up halfway through telling Steve about some folklore he’s using in his new campaign, just cut himself off mid-sentence and walked off. Steve doesn’t think it’s especially weird or demanding of him to have questions. 
“Did you have other plans that you just now remembered?” Steve frowns, starting to feel unsure when Eddie still isn’t saying anything. It’s just past eleven at night and Steve doesn’t know what plans those would be but he had showed up unannounced earlier in the evening so it’s not impossible that Eddie had plans that Steve interrupted. 
“No, no, no,” Eddie assures him finally breaking his silence, “it’s- okay it’s a little silly but I read this thing researching and I want to try it.” 
And well, okay then.
Steve raises his eyebrows and waves his hand gesturing for Eddie to go on. 
Eddie’s cheeks turn a light pink and he resolutely looks somewhere above Steve’s shoulder instead of at him. 
“Midsummer, which is today, is supposed to be this magical night and there are all these traditions and old myths about it.” 
Eddie glances at Steve and he smiles. Tries to show he’s listening and wants to know whatever thing Eddie read about. 
“And well, okay so there’s this one tradition where you pick seven different kinds of flowers before you go to bed and then put them under your pillow and you’re supposed to dream about who you’re gonna spend your life with.” 
Steve blinks, wasn’t expecting that and doesn’t know what to say about it, so, he blinks again. 
“Maybe it’s dumb, but with all we’ve seen magic and folklore don’t seem so far-fetched and,” he shrugs, “I wanna try. And like, it’s close to midnight and I don’t know if that’s a rule but I don’t wanna risk messing it up.”
“It- huh,” Steve frowns slightly and looks at his shoes then back at Eddie. “Yeah alright, let’s do it. Can’t hurt right?” 
His voice is light, like it’s not a big deal and just a fun thing Eddie read about because that’s what it is, isn’t it? But something about it settles deep in Steve’s gut. Makes it feel important in a way he’s not sure he could explain if he tried. Maybe it’s just the fact that Eddie is getting so worked up about the possibility of dreaming about the person he’s gonna spend his life with when Steve maybe a little bit wishes it would be him, but like, only a little. 
Eddie looks at him with wide eyes like he didn’t expect Steve to want to join, like maybe he expected Steve to make fun of him for wanting to do it. But then something seems to switch in him and a slow smile spreads over his face and he gives Steve an exaggerated once over. 
“Looking to find your true love huh, Harrington?” 
“I thought you said it was the person you spend your life with, not the same as true love necessarily.” Steve quips back because technicalities are easier to argue over than answering that question, especially when Eddie is the one asking.
Eddie shrugs. “Different sources say different things, sometimes it’s true love sometimes it’s who you marry.” 
“Well, then I guess we’re both looking to find our true loves?” Steve hedges, drags Eddie down with him if they’re gonna go there. 
A soft look passes Eddie’s face before a responds, voice quieter. “Guess we are, yeah.” 
They pick their flowers in silence, something about the magic being broken if you speak. Walking around the edge of the woods behind Eddie’s trailer a couple of feet apart, every once in a while coming together or crossing paths. 
After, Steve stands in between Eddie’s trailer and his own car. Holding on to his bouquet of seven flowers unsure what to do. He could go home, he should go home, but he doesn’t want to. He did have some beers hours ago and if he was allowed to speak he’d use that as an excuse to not drive and ask Eddie to crash on his couch. Right now he can’t though so he sighs inwardly and turns to his car. 
He makes it about two steps before a hand reaches out and grips him around his free wrist stopping him. When he turns around Eddie is giving him a look that very clearly says ‘stop being stupid’ and jerks his head towards the trailer silently telling Steve to go with him. He doesn’t let go though and uses his grip on Steve to drag him along like he can’t be sure Steve will actually listen and follow. As if Steve would ever not follow Eddie. 
They quickly get ready for bed. And again when Steve walks toward the couch Eddie grabs him and shakes his head. He waves his arms around a bit like that’s supposed to explain anything but Steve isn’t too bothered about an explanation anyways and easily follows Eddie to his bedroom. 
They’ve shared a bed before but always when they’ve been drunk or high so this feels different. Steve is a little glad they can’t speak or he’s sure he’d blurt out something way too revealing about it all. 
He avoids looking at Eddie as he tucks his flowers in under his pillow, knows Eddie is doing the same next to him. Is aware of it only being an old myth from a region halfway across the world but there’s a weight to it. Something real and tangible. 
He expects it to take a while for him to fall asleep like it always does. For him to twist and turn and lay awake until the early morning. For once though, that doesn’t happen. With the weight of Eddie next to him and to the sounds of his soft breathing and small movements, Steve falls asleep.
And he dreams. He dreams of big brown eyes and bright laughter. Of wild hair and warm arms embracing him. He dreams of growing old next to someone and how every wrinkle on their face tells a story of their shared love. 
He wants to stay in the dream forever, desperately tries to hold onto it even as he floats into consciousness. He turns and groans, gets a mess of someone’s hair in his mouth and nose and that’s enough to startle him into full wakefulness. 
Eddie grumbles next to him, clearly also just waking up. Steve looks at him, with his wild hair and his big brown eyes that are slowly blinking open and of course. Of course, it was Eddie he dreamed about.
Their eyes meet and Eddie freezes. Eyes widening as he looks back at Steve. 
“Oh,” he says. 
And yeah, oh.
“Eddie?” Steve asks, unsure of how to bring it up, to ask about it. If he even should? 
He puts on a teasing smile, even though he feels like goo inside, but making it lighthearted is all he can think of because what if he’s taking this whole thing way too seriously? Jumping to conclusions? 
“Dream of anyone?” 
Eddie nods and looks away, “I did.” He says it simply, voice careful. 
And maybe it isn’t just Steve.
“Who?” He asks, dropping the teasing tone. 
Eddie swallows and looks back at Steve. “The person I wanted to dream of,” he says and it’s not really an answer but he’s looking at Steve so intently he thinks it still might be. 
He thinks about Eddie’s quiet but delighted surprise at Steve wanting to join him yesterday. About Eddie dragging him first into his trailer and then into his bed. How they’re so close on Steve’s side of the bed and Eddie must have drifted towards him in his sleep.
He bites his lip to stop his smile from spreading too wide, there’s still a chance he’s misinterpreting things, “yeah?” 
“Yeah.” 
“And who would that be?” Steve asks, leaning in even closer until he feels Eddie’s small puffs of breath across his face. 
“You,” Eddie whispers but Steve hears it clearly. 
He takes a moment to bask in it, to let it wash over him before he responds.
“That’s good,” Steve tells him eventually and Eddie’s eyes are so wide and open, and so pretty, “because I dreamt of you.” 
He knows it’s cheesy so he doesn’t give Eddie time to respond, just leans in and closes the remaining gap between them. Slots their lips together. Eddie gasps into the kiss, grabs Steve by the hair, and pulls him in. Makes all these cute noises that make Steve want and want and want. 
He shifts, goes to put his leg in between Eddie’s to move on top of him and get a better angle. But he only gets halfway before Eddie grabs his hips and twists them around. Pushes Steve flat on his back and straddles him. 
He grins down at Steve. 
“You think the Scandinavian magic worked or was it just dream psychology and wishful thinking?” 
“Does it matter?” Steve asks, way too earnestly. But like, they’ve just spent this whole time doing some true love magic so he thinks it’s fine, “got what I wanted.” 
“It’s forever though,” Eddie points out, bending down to bite at Steve’s jaw, “if we believe the old Norse people.” 
Steve hears the question there, thinks this might be Eddie’s way of asking what this means to Steve. His way of telling Steve this isn’t just a hookup for him.
“God yeah,” Steve exhales, “I fucking hope so.” 
He feels Eddie smile into his neck and grabs his hair, uses it to pull him back and steer him into another kiss. 
2K notes · View notes
eyrieofsynapses · 5 months
Text
why Aurora's art is genius
It's break for me, and I've been meaning to sit down and read the Aurora webcomic (https://comicaurora.com/, @comicaurora on Tumblr) for quite a bit. So I did that over the last few days.
And… y'know. I can't actually say "I should've read this earlier," because otherwise I would've been up at 2:30-3am when I had responsibilities in the morning and I couldn't have properly enjoyed it, but. Holy shit guys THIS COMIC.
I intended to just do a generalized "hello this is all the things I love about this story," and I wrote a paragraph or two about art style. …and then another. And another. And I realized I needed to actually reference things so I would stop being too vague. I was reading the comic on my tablet or phone, because I wanted to stay curled up in my chair, but I type at a big monitor and so I saw more details… aaaaaand it turned into its own giant-ass post.
SO. Enjoy a few thousand words of me nerding out about this insanely cool art style and how fucking gorgeous this comic is? (There are screenshots, I promise it isn't just a wall of text.) In my defense, I just spent two semesters in graphic design classes focusing on the Adobe Suite, so… I get to be a nerd about pretty things…???
All positive feedback btw! No downers here. <3
---
I cannot emphasize enough how much I love the beautiful, simple stylistic method of drawing characters and figures. It is absolutely stunning and effortless and utterly graceful—it is so hard to capture the sheer beauty and fluidity of the human form in such a fashion. Even a simple outline of a character feels dynamic! It's gorgeous!
Though I do have a love-hate relationship with this, because my artistic side looks at that lovely simplicity, goes "I CAN DO THAT!" and then I sit down and go to the paper and realize that no, in fact, I cannot do that yet, because that simplicity is born of a hell of a lot of practice and understanding of bodies and actually is really hard to do. It's a very developed style that only looks simple because the artist knows what they're doing. The human body is hard to pull off, and this comic does so beautifully and makes it look effortless.
Also: line weight line weight line weight. It's especially important in simplified shapes and figures like this, and hoo boy is it used excellently. It's especially apparent the newer the pages get—I love watching that improvement over time—but with simpler figures and lines, you get nice light lines to emphasize both smaller details, like in the draping of clothing and the curls of hair—which, hello, yes—and thicker lines to emphasize bigger and more important details and silhouettes. It's the sort of thing that's essential to most illustrations, but I wanted to make a note of it because it's so vital to this art style.
THE USE OF LAYER BLENDING MODES OH MY GODS. (...uhhh, apologies to the people who don't know what that means, it's a digital art program thing? This article explains it for beginners.)
Bear with me, I just finished my second Photoshop course, I spent months and months working on projects with this shit so I see the genius use of Screen and/or its siblings (of which there are many—if I say "Screen" here, assume I mean the entire umbrella of Screen blending modes and possibly Overlay) and go nuts, but seriously it's so clever and also fucking gorgeous:
Firstly: the use of screened-on sound effect words over an action? A "CRACK" written over a branch and then put on Screen in glowy green so that it's subtle enough that it doesn't disrupt the visual flow, but still sticks out enough to make itself heard? Little "scritches" that are transparent where they're laid on without outlines to emphasize the sound without disrupting the underlying image? FUCK YES. I haven't seen this done literally anywhere else—granted, I haven't read a massive amount of comics, but I've read enough—and it is so clever and I adore it. Examples:
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Secondly: The beautiful lighting effects. The curling leaves, all the magic, the various glowing eyes, the fog, the way it's all so vividly colored but doesn't burn your eyeballs out—a balance that's way harder to achieve than you'd think—and the soft glows around them, eeeee it's so pretty so pretty SO PRETTY. Not sure if some of these are Outer/Inner Glow/Shadow layer effects or if it's entirely hand-drawn, but major kudos either way; I can see the beautiful use of blending modes and I SALUTE YOUR GENIUS.
I keep looking at some of this stuff and go "is that a layer effect or is it done by hand?" Because you can make some similar things with the Satin layer effect in Photoshop (I don't know if other programs have this? I'm gonna have to find out since I won't have access to PS for much longer ;-;) that resembles some of the swirly inner bits on some of the lit effects, but I'm not sure if it is that or not. Or you could mask over textures? There's... many ways to do it.
If done by hand: oh my gods the patience, how. If done with layer effects: really clever work that knows how to stop said effects from looking wonky, because ugh those things get temperamental. If done with a layer of texture that's been masked over: very, very good masking work. No matter the method, pretty shimmers and swirly bits inside the bigger pretty swirls!
Next: The way color contrast is used! I will never be over the glowy green-on-black Primordial Life vibes when Alinua gets dropped into that… unconscious space?? with Life, for example, and the sharp contrast of vines and crack and branches and leaves against pitch black is just visually stunning. The way the roots sink into the ground and the three-dimensional sensation of it is particularly badass here:
Tumblr media
Friggin. How does this imply depth like that. HOW. IT'S SO FREAKING COOL.
A huge point here is also color language and use! Everybody has their own particular shade, generally matching their eyes, magic, and personality, and I adore how this is used to make it clear who's talking or who's doing an action. That was especially apparent to me with Dainix and Falst in the caves—their colors are both fairly warm, but quite distinct, and I love how this clarifies who's doing what in panels with a lot of action from both of them. There is a particular bit that stuck out to me, so I dug up the panels (see this page and the following one https://comicaurora.com/aurora/1-20-30/):
Tumblr media
(Gods it looks even prettier now that I put it against a plain background. Also, appreciation to Falst for managing a bridal-carry midair, damn.)
The way that their colors MERGE here! And the immense attention to detail in doing so—Dainix is higher up than Falst is in the first panel, so Dainix's orange fades into Falst's orange at the base. The next panel has gold up top and orange on bottom; we can't really tell in that panel where each of them are, but that's carried over to the next panel—
Tumblr media
—where we now see that Falst's position is raised above Dainix's due to the way he's carrying him. (Points for continuity!) And, of course, we see the little "huffs" flowing from orange to yellow over their heads (where Dainix's head is higher than Falst's) to merge the sound of their breathing, which is absurdly clever because it emphasizes to the viewer how we hear two sets of huffing overlaying each other, not one. Absolutely brilliant.
(A few other notes of appreciation to that panel: beautiful glows around them, the sparks, the jagged silhouette of the spider legs, the lovely colors that have no right to make the area around a spider corpse that pretty, the excellent texturing on the cave walls plus perspective, the way Falst's movements imply Dainix's hefty weight, the natural posing of the characters, their on-point expressions that convey exactly how fuckin terrifying everything is right now, the slight glows to their eyes, and also they're just handsome boys <3)
Next up: Rain!!!! So well done! It's subtle enough that it never ever disrupts the impact of the focal point, but evident enough you can tell! And more importantly: THE MIST OFF THE CHARACTERS. Rain does this irl, it has that little vapor that comes off you and makes that little misty effect that plays with lighting, it's so cool-looking and here it's used to such pretty effect!
One of the panel captions says something about it blurring out all the injuries on the characters but like THAT AIN'T TOO BIG OF A PROBLEM when it gets across the environmental vibes, and also that'd be how it would look in real life too so like… outside viewer's angle is the same as the characters', mostly? my point is: that's the environment!!! that's the vibes, that's the feel! It gets it across and it does so in the most pretty way possible!
And another thing re: rain, the use of it to establish perspective, particularly in panels like this—
Tumblr media
—where we can tell we're looking down at Tynan due to the perspective on the rain and where it's pointing. Excellent. (Also, kudos for looking down and emphasizing how Tynan's losing his advantage—lovely use of visual storytelling.)
Additionally, the misting here:
Tumblr media
We see it most heavily in the leftmost panel, where it's quite foggy as you would expect in a rainstorm, especially in an environment with a lot of heat, but it's also lightly powdered on in the following two panels and tends to follow light sources, which makes complete sense given how light bounces off particles in the air.
A major point of strength in these too is a thorough understanding of lighting, like rim lighting, the various hues and shades, and an intricate understanding of how light bounces off surfaces even when they're in shadow (we'll see a faint glow in spots where characters are half in shadow, but that's how it would work in real life, because of how light bounces around).
Bringing some of these points together: the fluidity of the lines in magic, and the way simple glowing lines are used to emphasize motion and the magic itself, is deeply clever. I'm basically pulling at random from panels and there's definitely even better examples, but here's one (see this page https://comicaurora.com/aurora/1-16-33/):
Tumblr media
First panel, listed in numbers because these build on each other:
The tension of the lines in Tess's magic here. This works on a couple levels: first, the way she's holding her fists, as if she's pulling a rope taut.
The way there's one primary line, emphasizing the rope feeling, accompanied by smaller ones.
The additional lines starbursting around her hands, to indicate the energy crackling in her hands and how she's doing a good bit more than just holding it. (That combined with the fists suggests some tension to the magic, too.) Also the variations in brightness, a feature you'll find in actual lightning. :D Additional kudos for how the lightning sparks and breaks off the metal of the sword.
A handful of miscellaneous notes on the second panel:
The reflection of the flames in Erin's typically dark blue eyes (which bears a remarkable resemblance to Dainix, incidentally—almost a thematic sort of parallel given Erin's using the same magic Dainix specializes in?)
The flowing of fabric in the wind and associated variation in the lineart
The way Erin's tattoos interact with the fire he's pulling to his hand
The way the rain overlays some of the fainter areas of fire (attention! to! detail! hell yeah!)
I could go on. I won't because this is a lot of writing already.
Third panel gets paragraphs, not bullets:
Erin's giant-ass "FWOOM" of fire there, and the way the outline of the word is puffy-edged and gradated to feel almost three-dimensional, plus once again using Screen or a variation on it so that the stars show up in the background. All this against that stunning plume of fire, which ripples and sparks so gorgeously, and the ending "om" of the onomatopoeia is emphasized incredibly brightly against that, adding to the punch of it and making the plume feel even brighter.
Also, once again, rain helping establish perspective, especially in how it's very angular in the left side of the panel and then slowly becomes more like a point to the right to indicate it's falling directly down on the viewer. Add in the bright, beautiful glow effects, fainter but no less important black lines beneath them to emphasize the sky and smoke and the like, and the stunningly beautiful lighting and gradated glows surrounding Erin plus the lightning jagging up at him from below, and you get one hell of an impactful panel right there. (And there is definitely more in there I could break down, this is just a lot already.)
And in general: The colors in this? Incredible. The blues and purples and oranges and golds compliment so well, and it's all so rich.
Like, seriously, just throughout the whole comic, the use of gradients, blending modes, color balance and hues, all the things, all the things, it makes for the most beautiful effects and glows and such a rich environment. There's a very distinct style to this comic in its simplified backgrounds (which I recognize are done partly because it's way easier and also backgrounds are so time-consuming dear gods but lemme say this) and vivid, smoothly drawn characters; the simplicity lets them come to the front and gives room for those beautiful, richly saturated focal points, letting the stylized designs of the magic and characters shine. The use of distinct silhouettes is insanely good. Honestly, complex backgrounds might run the risk of making everything too visually busy in this case. It's just, augh, so GORGEOUS.
Another bit, take a look at this page (https://comicaurora.com/aurora/1-15-28/):
Tumblr media
It's not quite as evident here as it is in the next page, but this one does some other fun things so I'm grabbing it. Points:
Once again, using different colors to represent different character actions. The "WHAM" of Kendal hitting the ground is caused by Dainix's force, so it's orange (and kudos for doubling the word over to add a shake effect). But we see blue layered underneath, which could be an environmental choice, but might also be because it's Kendal, whose color is blue.
And speaking off, take a look at the right-most panel on top, where Kendal grabs the spear: his motion is, again, illustrated in bright blue, versus the atmospheric screened-on orange lines that point toward him around the whole panel (I'm sure these have a name, I think they might be more of a manga thing though and the only experience I have in manga is reading a bit of Fullmetal Alchemist). Those lines emphasize the weight of the spear being shoved at him, and their color tells us Dainix is responsible for it.
One of my all-time favorite effects in this comic is the way cracks manifest across Dainix's body to represent when he starts to lose control; it is utterly gorgeous and wonderfully thematic. These are more evident in the page before and after this one, but you get a decent idea here. I love the way they glow softly, the way the fire juuuust flickers through at the start and then becomes more evident over time, and the cracks feel so realistic, like his skin is made of pottery. Additional points for how fire begins to creep into his hair.
A small detail that's generally consistent across the comic, but which I want to make note of here because you can see it pretty well: Kendal's eyes glow about the same as the jewel in his sword, mirroring his connection to said sword and calling back to how the jewel became Vash's eye temporarily and thus was once Kendal's eye. You can always see this connection (though there might be some spots where this also changes in a symbolic manner; I went through it quickly on the first time around, so I'll pay more attention when I inevitably reread this), where Kendal's always got that little shine of blue in his eyes the same as the jewel. It's a beautiful visual parallel that encourages the reader to subconsciously link them together, especially since the lines used to illustrate character movements typically mirror their eye color. It's an extension of Kendal.
Did I mention how ABSOLUTELY BEAUTIFUL the colors in this are?
Also, the mythological/legend-type scenes are illustrated in familiar style often used for that type of story, a simple and heavily symbolic two-dimensional cave-painting-like look. They are absolutely beautiful on many levels, employing simple, lovely gradients, slightly rougher and thicker lineart that is nonetheless smoothly beautiful, and working with clear silhouettes (a major strength of this art style, but also a strength in the comic overall). But in particular, I wanted to call attention to a particular thing (see this page https://comicaurora.com/aurora/1-12-4/):
Tumblr media
The flowing symbolic lineart surrounding each character. This is actually quite consistent across characters—see also Life's typical lines and how they curl:
Tumblr media
What's particularly interesting here is how these symbols are often similar, but not the same. Vash's lines are always smooth, clean curls, often playing off each other and echoing one another like ripples in a pond. You'd think they'd look too similar to Life's—but they don't. Life's curl like vines, and they remain connected; where one curve might echo another but exist entirely detached from each other in Vash's, Life's lines still remain wound together, because vines are continuous and don't float around. :P
Tahraim's are less continuous, often breaking up with significantly smaller bits and pieces floating around like—of course—sparks, and come to sharper points. These are also constants: we see the vines repeated over and over in Alinua's dreams of Life, and the echoing ripples of Vash are consistent wherever we encounter him. Kendal's dream of the ghost citizens of the city of Vash in the last few chapters is filled with these rippling, echoing patterns, to beautiful effect (https://comicaurora.com/aurora/1-20-14/):
Tumblr media
They ripple and spiral, often in long, sinuous curves, with smooth elegance. It reminds me a great deal of images of space and sine waves and the like. This establishes a definite feel to these different characters and their magic. And the thing is, that's not something that had to be done—the colors are good at emphasizing who's who. But it was done, and it adds a whole other dimension to the story. Whenever you're in a deity's domain, you know whose it is no matter the color.
Regarding that shape language, I wanted to make another note, too—Vash is sometimes described as chaotic and doing what he likes, which is interesting to me, because smooth, elegant curves and the color blue aren't generally associated with chaos. So while Vash might behave like that on the surface, I'm guessing he's got a lot more going on underneath; he's probably much more intentional in his actions than you'd think at a glance, and he is certainly quite caring with his city. The other thing is that this suits Kendal perfectly. He's a paragon character; he is kind, virtuous, and self-sacrificing, and often we see him aiming to calm others and keep them safe. Blue is such a good color for him. There is… probably more to this, but I'm not deep enough in yet to say.
And here's the thing: I'm only scratching the surface. There is so much more here I'm not covering (color palettes! outfits! character design! environment! the deities! so much more!) and a lot more I can't cover, because I don't have the experience; this is me as a hobbyist artist who happened to take a couple design classes because I wanted to. The art style to this comic is so clever and creative and beautiful, though, I just had to go off about it. <3
...brownie points for getting all the way down here? Have a cookie.
746 notes · View notes
Text
How You Turn My World; Chapter 3
As the reality of your situation sets in, you try your best to survive in the Underground... and find a way out. Little do you know though, someone else is trying to find you.
Character; Lilia Vanrouge
Content; Gender-neutral reader, more shenanigans, getting more into the meat and bones of this fic
Content Warnings; Swearing
Word Count; 3.2 K
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 |
Do not put my work into AI - I will push you into the Bog of Eternal Stench
Tumblr media
Your night for the most part was uneventful. The horrid screaming had thankfully went in the opposite direction, away from your tree-top abode. Although throughout the night, little crowds of glowing eyes had amassed at the bottom of the tree, but they made no attempts to reach you. Even though they couldn’t reach you, you couldn’t help but feel unnerved, since all you could see was their eyeshine, and hear them chittering to each other.
Great, they’re probably pointing and laughing at the new fool in town. ‘Oh, look, Jim, a new plaything! Don’t they look stupid hanging in a tree like that? Fufufu.’ But you kept quiet, and just watched them, as much as they did you, making sure they didn’t try any funny business.
They didn’t stay for long though, either leaving due to their curiosity being quenched, or from how boring you were trying to be; silent, and watching, not moving. If worse came to worse, you would have started chucking rowan berries at them; if fae don’t like the tree, they probably wouldn’t like the berries either.
Eventually, the dark night dissolved into the dim glow of dawn, and once you could actually make out your surroundings and it wasn’t just one large mass of darkness, you started making your way down the tree. You were a bit proud of yourself, seeing that you had 1) survived the night, and 2) not fallen out of the tr—
Snap! … you celebrated too soon, since the branch you were using as a foothold gave way, and you tumbled your way to the ground. At least the fall wasn’t too high up, but it still stung like a bitch, and you’d definitely have a bruise; both to your body and your ego.
At least there was no one around to see you eat dirt.
Sighing, you rubbed your eyes, and smacked your cheeks; fighting off sleepiness. Focus; you need to get home. Read the damn book Mr. Sparkles gave you… damn prick is probably gonna call in a favour later…
With a still sore butt, you found a mossy rock that looked somewhat comfortable and sat down, opening up your ‘How Not to Die in Fairyland; For Dummies!’ book (not really the name of it, but it was damn close).
“Chapter nine; how to leave the Underground,” you muttered, flipping to the page. Weird, it’s only one page? 
“While leaving the Underground is possible, it is a task that not many have accomplished. 
Of the possible ways include;
Finding a portal; typically an enchanted faerie ring, or royal portal.
Finding a fae and tricking them into owing you a favour
One should leave the Underground before their thirteenth day. Should you stay beyond thirteen days you will not be able to leave the Underground, and will be a permanent resident.”
You shut the book, taking in a deep breath. What has it been, ten hours? It was hard to tell, the blurring of time. But at least you had a rough time of twelve days to find a portal — or have a fae owe you a favour — and get the hell back home. If worse came to worse, you were not above some benign trickery so you could see your idiots again.
Lilia had arrived home safe and sound, slept in his warm bed, and had some of his … delightful home cooking before he was due back at the castle. And while he was eating the somehow overcooked yet still raw eggs, he couldn’t help but wonder how the little Beastie was doing; how you were doing.
He didn’t technically owe you any favours, since he had given you that handy dandy book — if anything, you owed him, since you did say ‘thanks’ and everything — but curiosity is a fickle thing, and you seemed interesting. Humans typically reacted more when they ended up here, and made no proper moves to ensure that they made it back. But you, the little Beastie? Lilia saw a fire in your eyes, of both ire and determination. You wouldn’t give up easily, and while it was entertaining, he also knew that trouble could, and most likely would, follow wherever you go.
Last time a human like you ended up in the Underground… it didn’t end well (said human nearly burnt the Queen’s labyrinth down to the ground). Hopefully though, you didn’t prove to be as foolish, or as obsessed with fire as the last human. Who knows, maybe you would even escape! If you didn’t though, the court could use a new fool, and you seemed amusing enough to please their majesties whilst not incenting their ire.
“Hmm, wonder if their majesties have felt the intrusion,” Lilia hummed to himself, cleaning up his dishes. He could easily just magic it away, but the trip to the mortal realm had taken a lot out of him, so he was stuck doing some good old fashioned manual labour, not that he really minded. Doing the dishes was better than being digested by some mangy, overweight, cat.
A crack of lightning sounded outside, disrupting the otherwise beautiful and peaceful day. “That answers that question!” Lilia sounded too cheerful for what many fae considered to be a bad omen, as lightning rarely meant a good thing when it concerned the royal family.
A raven came to rest on the windowsill, eyes glowing green; a messenger.
Lilia tapped its beak, letting the message play.
“General Vanrouge, I require you to apprehend the trespasser on our land, lest they taint the soil,” the raven recited Queen Maleficia’s message. “Shall you deem it necessary to use drastic measures, so be it… To call this number back, place a coin into the raven’s mouth. To save this call—”
Lilia groaned, but coughed up a bronze coin so that the Queen didn’t send more ravens to his house on his day off. “Our guest shall be dealt with swiftly, I assure you of that.” Lilia ended his call, the raven blinked, coughed out the coin, and flew off in a ruckus of cawing.
He sighed, and cracked his back. “Hopefully our guest can understand… and not hit me with a broom this time.” With a snap of his fingers, Lilia poofed into his trademark green sparkles, and he was a bat again. Instead of being lost in the mortal realm though, he was off to find you, who was most likely lost in the Underground… hopefully you didn’t get eaten or fell into the bog again, since he doubted the Queen would want a dead(?) or putrid smelling guest.
“Beastie, Beastie, Beastie, wherever could you be?”
“Where the hell am I,” you wheezed. You had been walking for a good bit, since hey, the bog really smelled bad, plus you didn’t want to stick around long enough where the creature that was screaming last night decided to come back and make an appetizer out of you. So, you were walking. Where to? You had no idea, all you knew was that you needed to find a portal somehow, of the mushroom variety, or royally produced.
Currently, you were fighting gravity and making your way up a steep hill, but you knew you would be able to see over the dense forest canopy once you reached the top, and maybe, just maybe, you would be able to make sense of your bearings. Would you know where you were once you reached the top? Pfttt, no, but at least you would know what exactly was around. A sulfuric rotten egg-smelling swamp was one thing, but you wouldn’t be all too surprised if you found out there was a man-eating daisy patch or some other nonsense here.
Finally, you made it to the top of the hill, and you caught your breath before looking out towards the horizon. To the north, the sea of trees continued for what seemed forever. East, the trees made their way into a grassy plateau where there seemed to be a village of some sort in the distance; quaint. South, uh, the swamp, definitely not going back that direction, you’ve had enough of that swamp. And west, a castle, surrounded by a maze.
“An enchanted faerie ring or royal portal,” you muttered, weighing your options.
You had about twelve days left to get out of this place. You could spend those twelve days trying to find a so-called ‘faerie ring’ in the forest since those things were mushroom circles, but the chances of finding an enchanted one seemed to be slim to none. On the other hand, castles usually equaled royalty, which would equal portal. Knowing royals though, they were probably batshit insane. Also, if they felt like you were lying or trying to dupe them? Hey, they could apparently turn you into a slug or some other easily squishable being if they wanted to. And you really didn’t want to be turned into a slug… now at the moment at least.
“Forest,” you looked at the forest, “or castle?” You could also go east, but the grassland didn’t exactly scream portal potential or had any rowan trees (or any trees for that matter). “That is the question. Look for weird mushrooms and maybe get eaten by some critter, or potentially piss off some royal and end up as said critter. Hmmm.”
You groaned, and flopped down to the ground; both options weren’t all that appealing, or even guaranteed that you would find a portal. Rolling over to your stomach, you opened up the book again, seeing if it had anything that could help you make up your mind on the options in front of you.
Scanning over the table of contents, there was nothing about where to find a portal in the woods. There was, however, a handy dandy chapter on fae etiquette, including government specifications… 
You looked up towards the castle again, eyeing the maze. And started coughing out into laughter at your situation. “Pfttt, didn’t I wish that the Goblin King would whisk me away from my life,” you wheezed. “And here I am! In the fucking Underground with a labyrinth?!” Your laughing subsided into a tired sigh, and you set your eyes back towards the castle. “The irony is astounding really.”
At least you didn’t have to worry about some baby being turned into a goblin… right? 
No, no, you only wished for yourself to be taken away, no one else. But would that mean you would end up as a goblin? Fae? Or as some weird pet or servant to a fae? Hopefully not… and at least you had the somewhat credible book that Mr. Sparkles gave you. 
Shit, I owe him a favour though… CURSE YOU SARCASM!!!! 
Well, maybe Mr. Sparkles will cut you some slack, since ya know, you did save him from Grim… but you also did hit him with a broom… and insulted him… I am so fucked, aren’t I?
You eventually got to the entrance of the maze (the labyrinth?), and sat down on a bench outside of it, huffing and puffing. “Does everything want to–” you stopped that sentence, knowing your luck, if you said it out loud, it was bound to happen. “Never mind that…”
“Never mind what?” A voice said to your right.
You shot up and whipped your head around, coming face to face with a door(?) with a face. “I-”
“You never mind!” A second voice said, and on your left was another door, sending its counterpart a dirty look. “You know better than to meddle in such affairs!”
The right door, which was a weathered red, rolled its eyes at its neighbour. “Bah! Curiosity killed the cat-”
“But satisfaction brought it back. I know!” The left door, a brilliant blue, huffed. “Ignore them, they do this to everyone.” They sneered (if doors could sneer) to their neighbour. “Don’t you have anything better to do than trick people?”
Did I just get in between these two during something?
The red door got offended, turning even redder by some means. “Like you should be one to talk! ‘Oh my dear traveller, one of us two doors is a liar and does nothing but lie! Do not let my neighbour fool you!’ It’s the same every single time with you!”
It’s giving bitter divorced couple who for some reason still live with each other—
“I would do no such thing!”
“LIAR!”
“NO YOU ARE THE LIAR!”
You groaned, their bickering was starting to give you an all too familiar migraine. “Will both of you shut up?!”
Both of the doors tch-ed at your remark but stopped their nonsensical arguing, and you rubbed at your temple, easing away the building tension. But they turned their attention to you, looking at you with a mix of curiosity and something else… doors couldn’t be fae… right? The book didn’t say anything about talking doors… could they be portals? It couldn’t be that easy, nothing was ever that easy.
“Did anyone ever teach you any manners, mortal?” The red door huffed, turning its nose up at you. 
The blue door looked at you with a similar expression, “Yes yes, awfully rude you know! Lucky it's just us though, and not the mistress. Oh ho ho! She would turn you into a newt for that!”
I wasn’t too wrong about them turning me into a slug I guess… would a newt be an upgrade in this case? Since they have bones— 
“And you’re a door,” you deadpanned, “you both haven’t been polite either, ya know?” You had better things to do than kissass to two sentient doors, so no, you weren’t going to be polite. “So the sooner you tell me which way to go, the sooner I’m out of your… splinters?”
The doors grumbled but didn’t raise any objections.
“As you may have overheard, one of us is a liar,” they both said at once. “One of us will lead into the labyrinth, whereas the other will lead you back to where you started your journey.” They both chuckled, looking at you with amusement. “It is up to you to decide which is which.”
You looked between the two doors, weighing your options. “And what if I just walk into the labyrinth? What happens then?”
The blue door hummed, “Well, it would eat you!” … why did it sound all too cheerful about that?!
“So I don’t really have any other option then, do I?”
“Nope!~” They both gave you cheerful smiles, and you were half tempted to go off into the woods and find that magic portal by your lonesome. At least then you wouldn’t have to deal with a pair of divorced doors, and a human-eating labyrinth that belonged to some mistress that would turn you into a newt if she felt like you were being snippy with her.
You sighed. Of both the doors, the blue one seemed more sympathetic, whereas the red door was more harsh… “Okay, red, open sesame!”
The red door looked shocked that you picked it over its counterpart, but it opened nonetheless. The blue door grumbled that you had chosen its neighbour over it, but stayed quiet.
When the door opened, all you could see was black. 
“Do you actually lead anywhere?” You threw a rock in, but no sound came out. 
The red door was silent though; apparently, when it was open, it couldn’t talk. And while you didn’t miss the bickering, you really wanted answers, and the blue door wasn’t saying anything either. 
Sighing, you walked forward, hoping that you had chosen the right door. Once both of your feet were over the threshold, light started to filter in. Did I choose right?! But before you got too ahead of yourself, you felt the ground give way under you, and you were falling; falling towards an all too familiar sulfuric-smelling bog. 
“SHI-”
You were back in the bog of eternal stench, and spitting the rotten egg-tasting water out of your mouth again. And this time, Mr. Sparkles wasn’t here to make you magically smell better either. Nope, you were stuck smelling horrible until you could find a change of clothes.
Crawling out of the water, you grumbled and hissed curses towards that red door. Of course, you would end up here again! Why not! Laugh it up, Underground! Laugh it up!
“I hate it here,” you seethed, wringing out as much water as you could from your clothes. 
Shit, the book! But the book was still dry… Fuck you, book. Fuck. You. Of course, the book would stay free of wet and stench, whereas you were now shivering, since the water was frigid, plus you were angry and embarrassed that you had been deceived.
It was no use though just sticking around here lamenting and fuming. So you hoisted yourself up and marched back to the labyrinth; and even though the trip was a good three hours, your anger and pettiness drove you forward.
“YOU-” you hissed, pointing a finger at the red door.
The red door looked at you, looked to its blue neighbour, and then back at you before it started laughing. “I see someone took a little dip-”
You got up in its face, “Fuck you, asshole.” You turned around and marched up to the blue door. “Open up,” you cracked your knuckles, not breaking eye contact. And either your intimidation worked, or your smell was so offensive that the door just wanted you gone; weaponizing the stench works wonders against prissy doors.
“Th-” You remembered your first blunder; do not thank the fae. “You are too kind.” And you stepped through the blue door, which was as dark as the red one, but once the door closed, you didn’t find yourself back in the damned bog. You were now in the labyrinth, and perhaps a step closer to finding a way home.
Lilia found himself in the bog, looking around for the Beastie (you). But they were nowhere to be found, save for a wet spot on the grass and some torn-up moss.
“Ah,” he suppressed a laugh, “they fell in again, I see. Poor Beastie.” At least they’ll be easier to find.
He summoned a glass orb, a looking glass of sorts, and looked inside of it. “Show me the human,” he whispered, sprinkling it with some green magic. “And show me their location.”
The glass orb multiplied into three. The first orb showed a close-up of your face, an annoyed yet determined look on your face. The second orb showed that you were surrounded by hedges. And the third and final orb showed that the hedges were actually the Queen of the Underground’s personal labyrinth.
“… at least they can’t really run off anywhere.” But this wasn’t a great turn of events. Many people, both human and fae alike, had tried their best to navigate the labyrinth. But it was a fickle thing; you had thirteen hours to reach the castle, and if you didn’t within those thirteen hours? You would be stuck within it, as one of the beings that tried to stop trespassers from reaching the castle.
Lilia pinched the bridge of his nose, “Beastie, what have you gotten yourself into?” And he turned into a bat, flying off to try and find you. While the Queen did want you apprehended, Lilia would rather it be with his own hands, and not be held liable for any further actions or decisions you made.
...
...
...
...
Tags; @afunkyfreshblog, @cheezy-moon, @eynnwwyjth, @ithseem, @lucid-stories, @ryker-writes, @twistwonderlanddevotee, @xxoomiii
~~~~~~~
Author's Note; After a little break from writing this fic, I'm back! I hoped you enjoyed this chapter, even if it was only for the pay-phone/raven and the divorced bickering doors!
If you liked this, do check out my masterlist for more content!
678 notes · View notes
komorim · 1 year
Note
itoshi sae that takes pictures of his meals routinely after you expressed your worry of him not eating enough. his manager is beyond relieved after he sees that the footballer is now gaining some weight.
itoshi sae who doesn’t mind being affectionate with you in public- who cares if there is a teenage boy gawking at you two while taking a picture for his twitter account that would surely be on headlines tomorrow? not sae.
itoshi sae that gets a bit cranky when you don’t reply to his messages within an hour. itoshi sae that even more cranky when you call off your nightly calls one day (it ended up with all of his teammates getting insults left and right for every minuscule mistake- his manager calls you that afternoon and begs you to not do that again).
itoshi sae who takes screenshots of your messages and saves the pictures you send him. his favourites are the ones during calls: where it is perfectly candid and his screenshots notifies you.
“what? it’s not like you’re naked or taking a shit.”
itoshi sae who proudly flaunts his relationship with you while wearing your matching couple necklace during matches. he kisses it to dedicate a score to you, and his teammates can’t help but wonder who you are (and what you have done to itoshi sae).
itoshi sae who isn’t embarrassed of his obvious softness towards you. in fact, he once almost completely murdered the opponent’s goalkeeper for throwing the ball straight at his chest, breaking the necklace.
“you glorified octopus, can’t aim for your life of you huh? even a country bumpkin has the common sense to avoid an opponent’s midfielder you-“
you were informed of the commotion by his manager the day after that (he keeps in contact with you very often, knowing that you do a better job keeping sae in check than him).
you tell sae to just not wear the necklace during matches. to which sae quips back, clearly offended:
“are you on his side? he broke our necklace?? you know, like an idiot???”
itoshi sae who still frowns at the little rust at the end of the necklace, where his manager got a professional to fix for him- vowing to score a goal at the goalkeeper’s face next time. (he now brings up the university’s goalkeeping ability every moment he gets during interviews).
-🐨 (im back againnnn ^^)
i most definitely did not expect more from you, but i can’t exactly say i’m complaining (i love you for this). i hope this means you saw my post and hopefully you also liked my hcs! now…undramatic drumroll…some more from me as well!
‣ itoshi sae hcs ⋮ part one !!
Tumblr media
cw // none this time as well
itoshi sae who, because he doesn’t care about the media, ends up in a lot of trouble with his manager regarding how he acts. his manager has a headache he whenever he thinks about how to clean up sae’s messes, and he no doubt is somewhat too intimidated by the football player to confront him about it. so instead, resorts to seeking you out for help.
when you talk to sae about the matter, he isn’t exactly happy about it as he genuinely doesn’t see why people should care about his character when they’re supposed to be focusing on his playing abilities. however, he begrudgingly promises you to act better in public the next time. only because it was you that asked (he can’t find it in himself to say no to you, albeit he regrets agreeing to some dumb shit you ask of him sometimes).
itoshi sae who never gives his interviewers an easy time, almost always failing to cooperate with the questions asked. however, when one host on a talk show asks about you, a small smile tugs on his lips instinctually and he can’t help the shine in his eyes as he talks about you, the love of his life.
itoshi sae who puts you as his top priority, being able to drop almost everything in order to come to your aid. sae is the type to always support you no matter what. the exact definition of “even if the whole world turns against you, i’ll always be by your side.”
itoshi sae who is definitely an actions over words kind of boyfriend who’ll never really give you sweet nothings. he’s probably the type to call you a dumbass for not wearing more on a cold day as he drapes his jacket over your shoulders with a concerned expression (tsundere but doesn’t know it).
itoshi sae whose facial expression is always the same, barely ever changing. however, he doesn’t know it, but the tips of his ears always turn a bit pink and gives him and his feelings away whenever you compliment him. he loves how you’re always so proud of him, especially as your opinion is one that’s greatly important to him.
itoshi sae who saves all the paparazzi photos of the two of you together. even if they get annoying sometimes, following him everywhere, he has to admit that they take really high quality photos of you both.
itoshi sae is the probably type to either pick you up and spin you around or hug you tightly by the waist as he gives you a kiss after a big game. he’s not always this fond of being affectionate in public, but after a tense game, he’s a bit high off the adrenaline and acts before thinking. not that he cares if others see how much he loves you though.
itoshi sae isn’t the type to really get butterflies near you or when the both of you are together. though he does feel warm and loved with you. the emptiness in him that leaving home at a young age caused was filled by you. the lonely feeling that was gained after he and rin broke up was replaced by happiness that was gained from being with you. you gave him a sense of belonging that he hadn’t felt in a while.
itoshi sae is the type to have a slow burn kind of love life. he is the type to develop feelings for you over time. when he finally couldn’t help but admit that he has fallen for you, he determines that you’re the one (but before that he was most likely in denial for the longest time; like come on, just admit that you’re in love, it won’t kill you). he wasn’t going to love another; you already took up so much of his heart that he couldn’t love anyone else even if he tried. not in this life, not in the next, and not in forever.
Tumblr media
do not copy or repost my works. likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated.
3K notes · View notes
ja3yun · 3 months
Note
Can i make a request?
Y/n saw this post and rant about bf!jake about this, only to be pounded by him as peace offering (breeding kink, talks about marriage, overstimulation) 🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🙏🏻
https://twitter.com/asterjwon/status/1762378305490338241?t=yDIAkzHkDVx87C4_6BjXJg&s=19
hi! I don't normally take requests but this one was too good. the video has plagued me since i saw it 😩 when will it be me? hope this what you're looking for!
warnings: smut (mdni), breeding kink, overstimulation, cream pie, tummy bulge, mentions of jealousy and pregnancy, not proofread, anything else lmk!
w.c: 1.2k
-----
“I can’t believe you,” you scoff, folding your arms to mimic the disgruntledness within your body.
Jake stares at you bewildered, “Seriously? Because I put a ring on a fan's finger?” you’re usually so understanding about these things. Typically, you never bother being jealous, he’s always been flirty with others, his fanservice on another level compared to others.
So why is this one bothering you so much?
“You don’t get it, Jake. Just forget it,” your voice is wavering but you hide it behind a deep breath.”
He walks towards you, cupping your cheek with his hand, “Are you really gonna act like this?” his words are harsh but he’s only trying to coax an explination from you, “It’s my job, Y/N.”
“I know it’s part of your job, Jake, I’m not stupid,” you bite back, pushing him away slightly.
Jake stands there, not used to this cold side of you, it makes him think if this has just beem bottling up inside you since you both started dating.
Sighing, he rubs his hands over his face in frustration, “I know you”re not stupid, but fuck Y/N, I can’t read your mind,” his voice raises slightly but he’s trying to keep his composure.
“You’re so quick to accept marraige proposals, get fake married at fansigns, and speak all day like about your future wife on lives but as soon as I want to talk about us and our future, you cower away!” you let it all out, the tension in your shoulders lifting slightly from all the pent up anger.
You’ve been holding it in for months but placing a ring on another woman’s finger, fan or not, has tipped you over the edge. Jake has avoided any talk regarding marriage or kids, opting to make a quick lighthearted joke or changing the subject, however, there is only so many ‘we can start practising’ and ‘did you see that book you like is beng made into a movie’ you can take.
After you’ve ranted about your troubles, you hear the unthinkable - he laughs. Not like a hearty laugh but a snicker which somehow is even worse.
“Are you seriously laughing about this right now?” you glare at him, hoping you just heard wrong, yet there he is, smiling his head off.
He glides towards you, placing his hands on your hips, “Baby, no, I’m not laughing,” he said through chuckles which obviously doesn’t help his case, “You’re just so cute when you’re jealous.”
Brushing your hair away from your neck, he begins to scatter kisses all over the base, working his way up. His lips linger, tongue flicking on your skin ever so slightly just to tease you.
Losing focus, you stutter, “I-I’m not jealous.”
“But you are, baby,” his grip tightens a little on your hips as he presses himself against you, eliciting a moan from you, “You know you have nothing to be jealous of.”
He trails his fingers from your waist to the bottom of your tummy, playing with the waistband of your trousers. His sudden provocative touch making you crumble, forgetting what you’re even angry about.
“You’re the only one I’m going to spend the rest of my life with,” he whispers into your ear, the tips of his fingers crawling into your trousers and placing themselves teasingly at your entrance, “And you’re certainly the only one I’m fucking and filling up with my cum,” two of his fingers enter you suddenly, you grip onto his shoulders.
His thumb attaches itself to your clit, rubbing it roughly as his fingrr curl into you. Jake’s lips are ghosting over yours as he smirks, feeling your ragged breath, “You like that idea hmm? For me to make you mine and marry you? Fuck my kids into you?” his spare hand sneaks under your t-shirt and rubs over your stomach tenderly, “What if I fill you up until you’re so full there’s no choice but to get pregnant?”
You’ve never been more turned on in your life, the mix of his words with the way his fingers are moving inside your pussy so deliciously has you purring.
But before you can get too comfortable, he pushes you onto the bed and yanks your bottoms down, leaving you exposed to his gaze.
Once he discards you and him of all your clothes, he crawls onto you, his hand resuming his previous activities, except this time with more vigour. His cock throbs as it sits on your inner thigh, only making you ache more for him.
Jake focuses on rubbing your sensitive nub, feeling how close you are already, “Who did you think I meant when I spoke about my future wife?” he smooches along the mounts of your breasts, taking your nipples in his mouth as he passes them.
Your head is cloudy, too lost in the feeling of his lips on you and his fingers working you open, your clit throbbing on his thumb. The mewls that are falling from your mouth hit him straight to his cock, making it jump slightly.
“Cmon, Y/N, who did you think I was talking about?” he asks again, picking up the speed of his digits.
“M-me,” you breathe out after mustering up the words that are tangled in your pleasure.
“So why the jealousy, hmm?” his voice is too calm, a stark opposite to your writhing body and busy mind. He can feel your walls clamping down and your slick dripping down his hand, indicating how close you are, “You’re so silly, baby,” he mocks you slightly but only because he can’t imagine why you would take his fanservice to heart like that.
You feel the familiar heat rising in your stomach as you tense, feeling your climax wash over you, “Fuck, Jake!,” you cry out his name while you dig your fingers into his shoulders.
The sensation of you coming undone only serves to fuel his desires even more, his dick longing to be the one you’re squeezing around. Swiftly, he removes his hand from your heat, leaving you empty but not for long.
Quickly, he lines up at your entrance and pushes inside you, your hole still contracting and tight from your orgasm. He isn’t giving you a moment to breathe, to recover from your climax.
Jake’s thrusts drive into you at great speed, the way your walls are hugging him tightly is driving him to pound into you deeper.
“You feel so fucking incredible,” he huskily whispers, his thumb back on the attack of your bud.
Your pussy is being overstimulated, each thrust of his hips and rub from his thumb has you thrashing around under him, a mix of pain and pleasure, “Jake, s’too much,” you groan as your hands weakly try to hold his hips still.
But he is too far gone, lost inside you, “You want me to stop?” he asks cheekily, a smirk splayed over his face, “Isn’t this what you want? For me to fill you up?”
Your clit is burning, your hole is being stretched beyond belief and you really don’t want him to stop, not your mind anyway, yet your body is trying to fight him, the overstimulation all a bit too much.
It feels so fucking good though.
Jake is getting close, you can tell when his hips faulter slightly and his jaw tenses. You want him to cum soon, if not to give your pussy a break, to give you what you desperately crave.
Reaching down, you clasp your hand around his wrist and remove his thumb from your nub - relief instantly washing over you - and place it on your stomach, his cock bulging with each buck of his hips.
He looks down and feels it, the tip of his cock poking out just under your belly button, “Fuck, Y/N. You’re gonna look so cute carrying our kid,” he says whistfully, voice full of love and adoration.
Kissing your lips hungrily, you feel another orgasm flushing through your body, that coil snapping once again as you clench his length, legs wrapping around him to hold him still as you ride it out.
Jake spurts ropes of his seed deep into you, making good of his promise to fill you up. The pulse of his dick adds even more gratification to you, the feeling of it jumping inside you makes you shake.
The room is filled with echoes of your shared pants and profanities, Jake's body falling on top of you once he’s rode out his high.
Looking up at you, his head laid on your chest, he smiles, “You’re unreal.”
Wiping the sweat from his forehead, you nod in agreement, “You too, baby,” you lean down to kiss his forehead lovingly.
“You know, I can’t wait to marry you,” he begins to speak, tracing shapes into your side, “I just want it to be at a time in our lives where I can actually be there for you. Once we’re settled and I’m not touring twenty-four seven. I want you to have a husband that’s always there when you need him, to help raise our family.”
His confession throws you off a little but your heart soars at the realisation that he has thought about your future together just as much as you have.
“And I promise, I won’t place rings on anyone’s fingers unless it’s yours,” he beams up at you, meaning every single word.
-----
326 notes · View notes
mikichko · 26 days
Text
little bit personal but i’ve gone through lots of weight fluctuations in my life and no matter what size i am, summer is always hard for me.
which is why i cannot stop thinking about being ghost’s partner through summer.
we already know that he’s a man of few words, prefers to observe more than anything. so he really doesn’t miss the meticulous way that you plan out your outfits.
shorts have to be a certain length, shirts have to be at least long enough to hit your hips and sleeves long that are up to mid bicep. hell, he’s even seem you choose to wear pants all summer instead of even attempting shorts. too anxious over how you’ll be perceived to let yourself enjoy a nice warm breeze on your legs.
he asks you once if you’re warm, approaching the conversation the best way he knows how, only to have you laugh and tell him that the pants just hold you better. don’t need to give people a reason to comment on your appearance. he nods and you seem happy that he’s happy with your response.
but he’s not. listen, simon’s not really one to jump to defend someone’s ego from being bruised. god knows the team rags on johnny too often for him to pretend otherwise. but this? nah, this is different.
he’s all too familiar with the way bodies react and absorb the shock and trauma of war. has seen soldiers of all shapes, sizes, identities tank hits like no one’s business. there’s absolutely nothing he despises more than for the untrained, ill informed cretins offering opinions on someone else’s body. specially if it’s ever directed at you.
he’ll never say this though. at least not outloud. though, his actions do speak for themselves.
small pats on your hips as he passes by you. wrapping his arm around your lower belly instead of your waist, you try to swat at him but he just pulls you back into him. insisting that he lays on you when you’re stretched on the couch, dropping kisses on your clothed belly while his hands draw patterns on your plush thighs. if he’s feeling cheeky he’ll sink his teeth into them just to get a little squeal out of you.
even in public he doesn’t ease up. pulls you into his lap in front of your friends, knows you love it despite your protests. lounging out on a patch of grass along the walking trail, he pulls you closer to him and has one of your legs draped over his. massaging the fat there as you chatter about nonsense.
idk simon riley just really loves you and loves the body that keeps you alive and feeds your personality.
314 notes · View notes